#Alastor is nothing if not a petty bitch

[eggcats]

Angel was a little wary at first when he learned about Alastor and Husk, concerned it's a similar situation to him and Valentino. Husk assures him it was not, Alastor had asked, not demanded, and didn't force anything at any time. He also strongly implies he might have topped, but doesn't mention the fact that it was DEFINITELY Alastor's first time (he has SOME standards).

Alastor shows up at the bar around this point in the conversation and scares the SHIT out of both Husk and Angel. However, Alastor lets it go because, in all honesty, he doesn't really care all that much if Angel knows. Angel isn't in any position of power over him, and there isn't much he can do with the information.

Plus. The rest of this story is kind of funny and he's been dying to tell someone who will fully appreciate it.

Once Vox started bothering him about joining the Vees, and INSISTING that Alastor just needed to let Vox fuck him to make him see his point of view - Alastor was ready to kill him and end their entire relationship. Except, he knew that wouldn't devastate him to the point he wanted it to. He wanted to absolutely destroy him for even IMPLYING such things, and he knew that almost no matter what he did Vox would STILL think that if he just fucked Alastor he'd agree to whatever he wants.

So. Alastor decides. Okay, bet. Fuck me. Prove to me that this sex thing is worth it. Change my mind. Convince me to join you. (Alastor might have led Vox to believe that he hadn't had sex yet, despite having already removed his virginity with Husk. Alastor wanted to make this HURT.)

So they do. He lets Vox have sex with him. And Alastor is like "That's it? That was terrible, I cannot in any way understand wanting to ever do that again."

But then. THEN. To really drive it home. Alastor contacts Vox the next day and tells him he wanted a second data point before he decided sex was boring and terrible and overrated and that he decided to have sex with Husk instead, to compare.

And then Alastor tells Vox that it's actually him whose bad at sex and that Husk rocked his world. He was Not taking the chances of Vox implying that his own inexperience is the reason he was bad at it, Alastor wanted Vox to know the issue was solely HIM and no one else.

Husk: "Wait....wait a second...we?? We'd already done it before you and Vox-?"

Alastor, casually sipping his whiskey: "Indeed. But he is unaware of that little detail."

Husk: "Fuck, is THAT why he glares at me whenever he sees me? He's just hung up on THAT?"

Angel is dying of laughter. This is the pettiest shit he has EVER heard, and he loves it. Suddenly, Vox's constant obsession makes so much more sense to him. Angel cannot believe Alastor has the capacity to be so hilariously cruel, and loves it (and is also intensely glad he never said yes to HIM, because Angel does not know how HE'D recover from this same situation.)

Husk tells Alastor he appreciates the confidence boost of telling Vox he's better in bed, and Alastor looks this poor cat man directly in the eyes and goes, "Oh, but you are, my friend. That was not an untruth." (Husk had no idea what he's supposed to do with THAT.)

(Alastor is convinced he's the reason Vox started a sexual relationship with Valentino, because he needed someone who would hype him in bed no matter what, to recover his ego. He's not entirely wrong. )

Alastor and Husk have had sex before, because Alastor didn't like not knowing something that could be (potentially) used against him, and Husk is the only person he trusted in such a vulnerable position.

It was awkward but it was fine. They don't talk about it.

(It somehow came up once to Angel when Husk was a bit too drunk to remember why telling someone this info was a Bad Idea. Angel asked how sex with Smiles was like. All Husk will say on the matter is "he bites," and provides absolutely no more information.)

Alastor and Vox have ALSO had sex before, but that was just so, after Vox finished, Alastor could tell him he was bad at it and emotionally destroy him.

(Alastor wouldn't have considered going so far if Vox didn't suddenly attempt to push him and his boundaries so far and try to force him into a subservient role at his company. So he decided "fuck it, this is the best way to get him" and does this to him immediately before he disappears for 7 years.)

[blu3birdprince]

What if Alastor isn't anti-new tech but just anti-VoxTek? Like as far as we know, VoxTek is the only tech game right now. What if someone started a rival tech company and suddenly Alastor is posting food pics on sinstgram.

[ticklytums]

A Different Duel

Lucifer and Alastor can turn anything into a competition.

Anything.

(Lucifer and Alastor friendship/radioapple if you squint. Niffty and Alastor father and daughter relationship. This ended up way longer than I meant oops)

The halls were adorned in even more tacky circus decor than before. Frankly, Alastor was surprised there weren’t as many ducks as he feared there’d be. Maybe Charlie had downgraded the King’s obsession to just a few.

He hadn’t really been out to see the new, lavish and fully renovated Hazbin Hotel yet, having just crept out of the depths of his tower after several weeks of healing. He’d made himself scarce and barricaded anyone from entering.

Life had gone on it seemed. It was early morning and most of the hotel were out. Lucifer had commanded a grocery trip to stock the kitchen, and it seemed only he and Niffty were in the lobby. Alastor was quite blindsided to find the tiny maid at eye level as he stood by the railing.

He peered down and his grin stretched into a snarl when he saw Lucifer hoisting her up as he flew with all six wings.

“High enough, Thumbelina?” he asked the little lady, doing a figure eight in the air with her as the little cyclops squealed in delight. Alastor’s claws clenched into the railing.

“Higher, Luci! I want to go higher, I still need to reach the ceiling!” Niffty giggled and feathered the king’s face with her duster, prompting a string of giggling.

“Allow me then, little miss!” Alastor’s voice came out with a bit more of a bite than he intended, as his tendrils were quick to snatch the squealing tick from the angel’s arms. He hoisted Niffty up higher than Lucifer had, and grinned all fangs as the man scowled at him.

“Petty little bitch. You saw that I was holding her up to the chandelier. I was managing it just fine.”

“Ohhh maybe!” Alastor agreed. His tendrils absently rolled along and weaved through the air, bouncing a squeaking and laughing Niffty. “But can your wings do this?”

“No,” Lucifer deadpanned, and he snatched Niffty right back. “I can do this though!” He kept himself airborne with a few wings (although it certainly threw off his weight), and one of his wings fluttered at the girl’s belly.

Furious and jealous static crackled from Alastor at the tick’s laughter, and he yanked the girl right back again. “Oh please! You really wish to get the little doll to laugh?” His tendrils wriggled along her sides and squeezed at her knees. “You’re going for all the wrong spots!”

Tendrils still tickling a laughing Niffty, he swung the girl possessively up onto his shoulder. “I’ll thank you to stay away from the little lady, Your Highness! You already have one of your own.” He started towards the stairs. Stay the fuck away from mine. 

“What’s wrong? Afraid I can make her laugh easier than you can?” Lucifer shot back smugly, only pleased by the enraged static that crackled from the stag.

“Oh please!” Alastor scoffed and his staff reached out to fish the little bug up by her poodle skirt. “It is remarkably easy to make Niffty laugh! I prefer a more difficult game myself. What’s this trivial nonsense matter to you anyway?”

“Oh nothing much. Personally I just want to see how many things I can best you at.” Lucifer disappeared in a flash of gold and was suddenly inches away from Alastor’s face. “Because we certainly know killing angels is one of them!”

Alastor’s snarling grin tightened even more as he tried to pass the King. “I’m not interested in any of your frivolities . Some of us actually have work to do today!”

“Wow, I’m surprised at you, Alfonso. I wouldn’t think you’d be someone to turn down a competition. Scared you’ll lose?”

“In what? A game of tickling Niffty? Niffty is hardly even a challenge to make laugh.”

“Mm yes I see,” the King drawled as he leaned upon the crimson fruit of his own staff. “Who do you propose to be the best test subject then?”

“Well for hypothetical sake, Husker of course!” It was far too delightful of a thought to summon his old friend out from whatever frivolous and likely alcohol fueled fun he was having.

“Husk is with Angel. He’d be pretty mad if you interrupted him.”

Ah, so add fornication as part of the fun then. “All the more reason to summon him here so he can settle this little duel! The look on his face, it would be simply priceless!”

Tickling the feline had always been a fond pastime. The tom cat yowls and cackles were always surprisingly boisterous coming from the old drunk.

“You really need to summon a buffer?” Lucifer drawled, seconds before Alastor’s claws were poised to snap. “What, too scared you yourself would lose?” His snake fanged grin smirked at the deer.

Alastor stepped back and his claws and even antlers curled in displeasure as the King shifted into his serpentine form and had the audacity to curl up his microphone staff. He attempted to shake the microphone, but the bastard was immovable….and Alastor wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

“Maybe I’m just not partial to these games with you, of all people.” Alastor snipped back. “Niffty is an exception. I hardly want you touching me.”

“Ah, I get it kid.” Lucifer hovered above him now, and his six wings flapped innocently, disarmingly close to the deer. “You know you’d lose to me, and you don’t want that. It’s fine! It’s cool! I respect your stance.”

Niffty could see that Lucifer was playing right into Alastor’s pride, and Alastor was eating it up. His grin was turned up into a sneer. “I didn’t say I was frightened. Perhaps I’m just not ticklish.”

“Yes you are,” Niffty piped up from the mass of tendrils.

“Hush, dearest! So you really want to do this then?” He leaned on his staff, burning inwardly with embarrassment that he’d fallen victim to his vices. “Fine.”

A tickle fight with the devil. There were worst ways to spend a Wednesday morning.  “Alright. What are the ground rules?”

“Magic can be used, but not to hurt each other,” Lucifer informed. “Frankly I have no issues hurting you, but ehhh, doesn't feel like it fits in the spirit of this game. We’re just playing after all!” His angelic wing extended, shy of touching the deer.

Alastor spun his staff for effect. This would be a nice moment of respite, he supposed. A change of pace from the business he needed to attend to later. Really anything he could do to torment the duck obsessed prick was a plus in his book.

“Then….” A distorted cackle echoed through the deer’s infernal speakers, as a mass of tendrils exploded from his back. His filtered voice brimmed with glee. “Let’s play, my friend!”

The tendrils struck forward like an arrow, and almost caught Lucifer’s ankle, but the former angel was quick to spiral out of the way. He dispersed into a cloud of glitter and sparkles, and Alastor swerved just in time to avoid the arms that almost snatched him.

“Oh relying less on your powers, are you?” the deer snipped, as a band of tendrils caught the devil’s wrist. 

“I prefer a more hands on approach!” Lucifer taunted, and his fingers wiggled along the tips of Alastor’s ears before he managed to slam him to the ground. “Using just my magic feels so impersonal!”

“Well good, because I don’t want you touching me!” Alastor growled as his staff knocked Lucifer off balance in the air. “I’d think the devil would be eager to show off. You certainly were in that sad little magic show the day you cursed our doorstep with your presence!”

Lucifer’s canary yellow eyes sharpened as he smirked viciously. “Oh believe me, kid! I can show you what the devil can do!” His eyes flared crimson and fire leaped from his lips.

Alastor wasn’t sure what he was preparing for, but it certainly wasn’t for the black branches that shot out of the floorboards and tried to wind across his limbs. They were twisted and carried the faint scent of apples. 

He found himself entrapped, but before Lucifer could strike him down, he sent a cascade of green to incinerate the branches. “A cute little trick, but that’s merely all it is.”

He was far more bark than bite today. The bastard had chosen the worst possible moment for this juvenile battle. He was still healing from his injury. His wound had almost recovered, but he…hadn’t exerted such a level of power since his fight with Adam. Lucifer had him woefully overpowered and Alastor was fully aware of it. Fuck.

If he could count on the archangel to be far more ticklish than he was powerful, just maybe he’d have a shot. “You weren’t watching your back though!”

A portal had opened up by the devil, and he didn’t turn around in time to avoid the black tendril that finally succeeded in snatching his wing. “Ah! Ack! Oh nice try, Bambi! Maybe you aren’t so hopeless after all.”

“How original,” Alastor drawled as a few more tendrils snaked towards the little canary flapping in his trap. “I’ve been called every iteration of a deer ever created, my good man! You’re going to have to try to be more creative.”

Lucifer squealed as several tendrils weaved into the air, dangerously close to him. He kicked his feet and flapped his arms, as if to deter them. It only seemed to invite his doom however, and the devil squealed as he felt the  tendrils slither across his belly.

“Wahahait, that’s nahahat fahahair!” Lucifer, the ‘self proclaimed’ Dad of the hotel was deathly ticklish, and it was a weakness both his family, old and new, exploited to its fullest.

“Oh I see, because you’re losing it isn’t fair? I’ve followed all the rules!” He wiggled his fingers in the air, and the tendrils responded in kind, wriggling up under the devil’s arms. The boyish goofy laughter was instant.

“AHAHALASTOR!” Lucifer squealed as he tried to shove his arms down, but it only served to trap the wiggling appendages, as the smirking deer found a rhythm that drove the king up the wall. 

Oh how he couldn’t wait to put a more desperate smile on that pompous little fawn’s face!

“You know, I have a hypothesis that I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping me test!” Alastor gave a predatory smirk and loomed closer to the cackling devil, propelled upwards by his tendrils. “Wings seem to be quite the terrible spot on Husker. I’m wondering if that’s possibly universal?”

He grinned at the terror in the pocket sized king’s expression, a dark chuckle leaving as Lucifer struggled to snap his wings against him.

“DOHOHON’T EVEN THIHIHINK IT!”

Too late. Those thoughts had processed. Six tendrils suddenly dove forward into the pit of each wing, and Alastor could barely believe the explosive reaction it garnered. 

Lucifer screamed with laughter, falling into a fit of babbling pleas and snorts as his feet peddled at the air uselessly. He kicked and he squirmed but Alastor was ruthless in his attack.

“Bingo,” the deer smirked viciously. A taunting laugh track echoed from his infernal speakers, and the mocking just put the poor King further into hysterics. “I think I’ve won this little game, wouldn’t you say so? Your Highness? Oh sorry, can you say so? Can you even HEAR ME?” he called over the screams.

“I don’t think I feel quite ready to let my catch go yet. There’s still many spots left to try out! Ah, wouldn't you say so Niffty?”

Suddenly Alastor was aware of the fact that the spot his quasi adopted daughter had been sitting in, was…empty. Peculiar. Had she really grown so bored already? 

If he was a bit more on his game, maybe he would have sensed the girl before he felt her devious little body scale up the back of him. 

“I say I want to try this spot!” Her tiny claws latched to his belly, and the little maid sealed his fate. Feedback screeched from the deer’s microphone as laughter nearly burst out. While he saved face, he didn’t save his concentration.

His head jerked up long enough to see the dispersing, golden glitter in the wiggling tendrils. Alastor’s eyes widened as he whirled around—just in time for that glitter to appear inches away from him, Lucifer now in the form of a beautiful white sparrow.

“Ohhhh, betrayed by your own ‘little lady’, damn that’s gotta suck for you!” the bird tweeted, and situated himself in Alastor’s hair to peck at his ears. A yelp tore from Alastor’s throat but his claws reached out to snatch the sparrow.

“I’m rescinding the cafe trip she and I were going to spend together as punishment!” Alastor growled, narrowing his eyes at her. He didn’t have too long to mull on her betrayal however, finding himself too busy trying to get a Lucifer shaped snake off of his neck!

“Gotta say buddy, ever since meeting you I’ve been reveling in the idea of wiping that shit eating grin off your face!” Lucifer danced out of Alastor’s claws once more, and merrily scampered over his side as a tiny gerbil.

Alastor snarled and he tried to hone in on where the devil might phase to next, but every attempt of snatching the asshole only ended in him getting a handful of glitter. It was getting disorienting trying to keep up with his teleporting, and his tendrils kept on snatching at the empty air.

“Hold—still!”

“Buuut if I can’t wipe the grin off your face, then I’ll settle for making it as desperately wide as possible!” Lucifer, now a small cricket hopping in and out of his pockets, suddenly reverted to his angelic form.

All six wings of angelic form, and tackled Alastor to the couch. Before the deer could snarl anything, Lucifer shoved his claws under Alastor’s arms. “See how you like it, douchebag.”

Between the feathery wings holding him in an embrace that tickled on its own, and the attack to one of his weak spots, Alastor didn’t stand a chance. 

Microphone feedback screeched between a pop of static, and finally loud laughter. “GEHEHET OHOHOHOFF ME YOU MISEHEHEREABLE LIHITTLE-“

“Ouuuu better be nice to the guy who decides how long he’s going to keep you like this!” Lucifer laughed, just enjoying the banter. It was so fucking satisfying knocking this prick down a peg or two! “Gotta say, that microphone thing is cute! That part of the whole radio demon thing?”

Alastor cursed through crackling static as he wrestled with Lucifer’s hands, unable to keep the squeal from emitting when the devil got his belly. He tried to shove his face to the side, so at least he didn’t need to see his tormentor’s face, but that just pushed his face further into the wings!

“The hands on approach is just so much more rewarding than only using my magic,” Lucifer drawled, smirking as every wiggle of his fingers pulled more feedback through the cackling. “Hands off is just so impersonal, you know?”

“I’m about to BITE your hands off!” Alastor snarled, before he was sent back into bright laughter as Lucifer dug punishingly under his arms, getting into his trench coat and minimizing his protection.

“Ah ah, you cryptid little reindeer, that’s just breaking our rules we set!” Lucifer gasped dramatically, tasering his fingers into the deer’s bony ribs. 

His colossal sized wings folded over the deer, and the effect was overwhelming on its own. Alastor sucked in a breath as the slightest movement made the feathers twitch, but staying still wasn’t possible. 

“Isn’t this fun? I do this with Charlie all the time!” By the looks of it, it was having the same desired effect. The radio demon was a mess of giggles entangled in a bed of feathers. “Just enjoy the relaxation!”

Alastor wasn’t sure what was worse, the feathers that had reduced him to popping static and wiggling, or the fact that the wings were hugging him. He tried to summon his tendrils, but he couldn’t conjure even an inkling of focus…and his magic was exhausted. He was utterly helpless to suffer this humiliating, feathery defeat!

“Do you give up yet?” the devil had the gall to taunt. “Because I could stay like this aaalll day! Gotta say, you’re not so bad when you’re squealing like a little fawn! Just give it up, kid! You know you can’t beat me and it’ll only get worse from here…”

“You’re hugging me, h-how can it get…much worse?”

“Ou, something like this!” the King grinned. Those devious six wings suddenly flapped, brushing over his midsection like a curtain. Feathers poked in through the buttons of his shirt and Alastor just about bent into the king.

“GEHEHEHET OHOHOFF!” 

“What’s the matter? I’d think I could expect a much bigger fight from someone like you!” Lucifer appeared as a snake, woven around one of his antlers. His snake tongue hissed as it poked at the deer’s ears, bringing another bright snort. 

At least able to push himself up from the couch’s arm, Alastor made another grab for the King, but he just reappeared on his belly as a duckling, nuzzling it. The deer nearly doubled over. “STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!” 

“Why kid? Do you yield?” Lucifer taunted, his sharp toothed grin widening playfully. It was a disconcerting sight to see from a little duckling. He reverted to his normal form. “You don’t seem to be putting up much of a f-“

That’s when Alastor finally reared up and captured the king’s wrists in his grip. With a sharp jerk, he’d sent them both tumbling off the couch. “Perhaps I will utilize the hands on approach! Anything to take you down!”

His claws dove to Lucifer’s belly, and he was delighted by the squealing results. Lucifer’s wings flapped out in instinct, but Alastor avoided their snatching attempts. He changed the target area to his sides, and back up under his arms, skittering from one spot to the next and quickly alternating. He was simply merciless in his pursuit, because he would win this war.

Lucifer screeched to the high heavens, before he began cackling uncontrollably and beating his feet against the couch cushions. “AHAHAHAHA SHIHIHIT!” He wrestled with the deer’s grappling hands as both suddenly found themselves locked in some sort of power play.

“My my your highness, so sensitive, aren’t we?” Alastor teased as his claws dug into any inch of skin he could manage to find. Ribs, under his arms, and in the pits of his wings. He never deliberated on one area for too long, refusing to give the King a chance to get used to one sensation before another began.

“SHUHUHUT UP, YOU PRIHIHIHICK!”

This was…fun! He despised the very fact that anything to do with the apple pisslord was fun, but he couldn’t deny how intoxicating it was to have the devil at his mercy, even in such a childish game. Such a personal attack with his claws felt strange, he barely ever used anything but his tendrils. Oh, but it did make the King’s defeat so much more satisfying…

“Ugh!” A sudden spasm of agony rocketed across his ribcage, and briefly blinded the King from his vision. He saw just enough to catch the loathsome concern in Lucifer’s eyes as he toppled off the cushions.

“Alastor!” His own speed at which he was at the deer’s side surprised even himself. Lucifer crouched beside the panting creature and he extended a reluctant hand. 

Alastor remained in his near fetal position as he tried to gather his bearings. He was suddenly aware of the eyes on him. Lucifer. Niffty. Both gazed at him with concern and pity, as if he was someone that was weak. He abhorred the hand that Lucifer was extending to him, and he emitted a low warning growl.

Lucifer’s hand slowly withdrew, and his shoulders slackened as he saw the few minutes of progress they’d made completely unravel. Alastor was retreating back into his shell.

The deer staggered to his feet and his radio filter and cheshire grin once more disguised everything Lucifer saw under the surface. “Well that was a fun little game! Shall we call it a draw this time, your highness? It seems like we both evenly matched each other’s hysterics!”

“Tch, yeah. We’ll have to have a rematch!” He watched Alaator’s ears twitch forward, unsure if that was a good sign or not. “You…okay? You need me to take a look at ya?”

“I’m fine!” Static grated the air, cutting off the King’s concerned inquiry. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Wait!”

Lucifer appeared before him in a glittery burst and Alastor’s teeth bared in impatience. Still, the King was undeterred. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to let the minimal progress they’d made…fall apart. “Hey, have you eaten yet? We were going to make pancakes, little Thumbelina and I.”

Begrudgingly he had to admit he was hungry. A rumbling in his stomach betrayed his denial. He glared at the King, but it was the smiling cyclops at Lucifer’s side that as always…melted his reserve.

“…Oh fine!” His elbow dug mockingly into the King’s top hat like an armrest. “I suppose I am feeling quite peckish! I must admit that I am more partial to crepes. They’re far superior.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and shoved a finger up under the deer’s arm, delighting in the squeaking snort as he shoved him away. “Hells bells, do you really have to make everything into some competition? Ya dick.”

“I don’t have to but it’s undeniably satisfying…” He ducked a surprisingly more playful and merry cane swing from the devil, dancing from his grip. “I must admit, that battle was a bit riveting. I suppose they don’t all have to end in bloodshed.”

“Yeah it was fun, but if you ever wanna pull something like that on Charlie, you need some tips.”

“Charlie?” Alastor’s grin nearly split his lips. “Tell me more…”

[arahusk]

Teamwork Makes the Dream Work

Characters/Pairing: Alastor/Husk, Niffty, Vox, Valentino, Velvette

Word count: 5378

Ao3 link: [here]

-

The spats between Overlords in Pentagram city could be called the very definition of petty. 

It’s one of those things from his prime that Husk can say he didn’t really miss at all. Just one unintended slight, or a little extension of one’s territory into another, a sale of a faulty product or even just a small rejection, could start a whole gang war. Other sinners, or even other hellborn, would get caught in the middle of it. Such spats left things in ruins, or destroyed afterlives, making it a nightmare to rebuild again.

The V Tower is effectively wrecked, but the Vees themselves are still standing, still high and mighty, as they loom above the wreckage over Husk, an overeager Niffty, and his bitch of a boss.

Whatever set either of these fuckers off this time, Husk had no damn clue, but the ache in his shoulder told him that he’d be paying the price for it either way.

“You really thought it would be like last time?!” Vox shouts from above a pile of disfigured television sets, red spittle dripping down his screen. His face is cracked, but not enough to mess with the hypnosis that was moving demons from underneath the rubble, weapons of all kinds in their hands. “You’re stuck in the past while I’ve been innovating! Because that’s what technology does, you red piece of shit!”

“You know, you’re yelling right in my ear,” Velvette grouses, just a few strands of her dyed hair out of place.

Smartphone in hand, she barely glances at it when she swipes a thumb down. It seems to send a signal, one that opens up a hidden door and more sinner monstrosities in broken high heels and tattered dresses turn up with murder in their eyes, drugged out of their minds.

Valentino isn’t doing much except looking mighty pissed at his coat being ripped at the back. He cocks the trigger of a bedazzled gun, grinning fiercely. “He’s just having fun, Vel, honey. Though he fucking owes me a whole new wardrobe after this.”

Husk in particular hates that guy. For a lot of things, but right now for the bullet he left in his damn shoulder.

“What next, Sir!? Can I try to get that bad boy again?” Niffty is, of course, living this up, and at least her rabid speech makes Valentino look a bit unsure.

Husk waits for the next order. There would be no point in refusing, and he and Niffty would just have to continue this stupid war until enough of them keel over.

Except, even with the onslaught already coming for them, still climbing over ruined wires and broken letter V’s, Alastor still doesn’t say anything. Husk risks a glance, finding the Radio Demon standing still, hands over his mic, looking straight ahead at nothing.

His coat’s even more frayed than usual, and the fight had left his hair a bit messy, but he’s the least worse off. Even Niffty had a scratch over her cheek, and blood running down her fingers…from accidentally stabbing herself with her own needles.

The demons are still heading their way towards them, and it makes Husk a bit nervous. “Er, boss? We doing something?” No way he just summoned them here just to have one stupid last stand.

At that, Alastor picks up his head slightly. He looks over at Husk on his right side, then at Niffty on his left, who is still bursting with energy at the seams. After a moment, he looks forward again. “Right. Looks like we’ll need a bit of an intermission!”

With that, he makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, keeping his other hand on his cane. The shadows that spring out from the ground range from tiny, impish beings to gigantic ogres, all with stitches connecting their limbs and smiles carved into their doll-like faces. Another gesture with his fingers, and they propel forward with the help of dark tendrils, clashing against the demons so that it becomes just another chaotic brawl. 

And more tendrils shoot up, closer to Alastor’s feet, so that they converge on each other, surrounding the three until they are all encased in a slightly transparent dark shield.

“Oh, this old trick again?! You’re so boring!” Vox clenches his fists, directing his hypnotic gaze at them. “Get out here and fight! You cowardly fuckass–!”

Another gesture, and the shield becomes solid black. Soon there’s no more sound from outside, and the only light that exists comes from the strange red glow of Alastor’s cane.

“Finally, I can think for a bit,” Alastor mutters.

Husk looks around in confusion, while Niffty ooo’s and aaa’s at her boss’s powers. She pokes at the shield with her bleeding fingers. “Hehe, it’s sproingy!”

“So are we just twiddling our thumbs until the Vees tear this shield down?” Husk asks a bit more bitterly than he intends. The wound on him is really stinging now. “If we’re not fighting, then at least get us the fuck outta here.”

“We are not doing that,” Alastor says, cracking his neck sharply to glare at Husk. “I haven’t won.”

Husk blinks. Then, slowly, he grits his teeth. “Oh fuck off.”

“I can win for you, Sir! Just let me at’em!” Niffty raises up her hand, waving erratically. “I almost got that bug boy too!”

“Niffty, dear, you’re swell. But I still need to think—”

“What, we’re just gonna stand around while you mull it over? I’m fucking tired and I just wanna go back home and drink.”

“You can drink yourself to death anytime, Husker. Now let me just—”

“Ohhh, sure. You’re right, I’d rather die from getting mauled to death by some brainwashed cultists outside!”

“Maul! Maul! I wanna do some mauling! Can you let me, Sir? Please?!”

“If I wasn’t bound to you, I’d be hauling ass and letting you deal with this shit yourself!”

Suddenly, pressure.

The chains appear out of the air, latching onto both Husk and Niffty’s necks. Husk stiffens, while Niffty is bouncing up and down on her toes. But both effectively quiet down, all while Alastor looms above them with a tight grin on his face, a hand gripping both chains, making them rattle. The static feedback sounds even louder within the small, dark space.

“I said, let me think.”

Husk should have stayed quiet, and he almost does, but both the anger and blood loss is probably getting to him. “Finally caught yourself between a rock and a hard place, huh?” If only because of the man’s pride and nothing else.

Alastor doesn’t respond. The feedback keens just a bit higher, but only for a moment before he turns around, slamming the end of his cane into the ground.

Niffty is still waiting eagerly, but she leans over to Husk, whispering loudly, “He’s gonna have a really fun idea!”

Husk scoffs. “If you say so, little lady.” He doubts hard. At the most, Alastor is probably planning for them all to go on a suicide mission and hopefully get Vox along the way. His defeat from Adam must still be a big sore spot for him.

The sound finally builds from outside like a rolling wave, which means the deadly mob is probably getting closer. And still, Alastor stands around like a fucking moron, tapping his fingers against the mic. The hell did he expect would happen from this?

Both bored and aching, Husk groans. “You fought Vox by himself last time. Don’t know why you thought fighting all three would be any easier.”

Then, he feels the chain tighten. But not to throw him to the ground like he half-expects, but from Alastor turning around. “What was that?”

His boss is being really damn obtuse for some reason. “I mean, it’s three against one. Not like me and Niffty even count really, at least not anymore.”

Alastor stares, then tilts his head a bit. “Is that so?”

Husk gestures to the chains he and Niffty were leashed to. “Binding contract, remember? Your memory getting spotty now?”

“I love being tied up though!” Niffty cackles, her bright eye shining with adoration. “Best deal I ever made!”

“Speak for yourself,” Husk grumbles.

In his heyday, maybe Husk could be more of a threat. Heck, from what he heard of Niffty, she’d also been a force to be reckoned with. But not many really remembered the power of the Needlewoman and her love of pointy things.

Alastor pauses again. He’s considering something, though Husk can’t really guess as to what. A new strategy to get at Vox? Maybe cataloging through his arsenal of abominations to unleash a counterattack. Or maybe just thinking up a way to get Husk to shut up.

Then, Alastor shrugs. “Well, I see no other way then.” He brings his hand up, the chains laying slack in his palm, and snaps his fingers.

Husk feels it right away. The weight lifting off his neck. He widens his eyes and looks down, just in time to see the fragments of metal and chain links fall away into nothingness.

He’s free. 

“You and Niffty have been released from your contracts. You may thank me later!”

Niffty also looks down at herself, then at the ground, then at the air again as she tries to piece together the links that had once housed her soul. “Oh no! Does Sir not like me anymore?!”

Husk stares, and stares. He then lifts his eyes to face Alastor. “Excuse me, but, what?”

Alastor just grins. “You now have your full power at your disposal again.” A small twirl of his cane as he faces them fully, unmindful to the ruckus outside. “Though perhaps not as much as when you owned souls.”

Husk still has no idea what to make of this. It’s almost like the door of his cage has been flung open wide, and he’s not sure if he should head for it. And as he feels Niffty grip his arm, also shivering at her newfound freedom, she seems to be feeling the same way.

And then, Alastor grins wider. He reaches out his hand. “Which is why I propose we all make a new deal instead.”

Of course there’s a fucking catch.

“You think I’m that much of a sucker?” Husk blurts out. He points a claw at Alastor. “This is some kind of trick. No way you’d let us go that easy.”

“Don’t throw me away, Sir! I can be better!”

Alastor remains motionless, hand still outstretched. The sounds outside are growing louder.

“Instead of working for me, how about we all become business partners? Is that enticing enough?” He quirks up an eyebrow. “All those souls you once owned will now be back at your disposal.”

Husk now really wonders if he’s not just been knocked out and having one hell of a coma dream. Alastor, the Overlord who sees everyone as beneath him. Alastor, the Radio Demon who would rather go to war than take the offer of joining the Vees’ team. Alastor, the narcissistic prick who would probably gnaw his own arm off then ever seeing anyone else as his equal.

But then, Husk pieces it all together.

“You know you can’t win by yourself,” he says. “Not unless we’re all at the top of our game.”

Alastor’s right eye twitches a bit. His frazzled hair makes it look all the more menacing. 

“Motherfucker. You’re that desperate.”

“I believe I already told you,” Alastor says quietly. “I won’t be humiliated.”

But Niffty, who has now climbed to the top of Husk’s left wing, gasps with happiness. “That means we’re all going to get married!”

A record scratch echoes around them, one that makes Alastor’s fingers move back and forth. Then, “Whatever works, dear!”

“For the love of—” Husk glares, and he does a small, experimental search through his soul. It’s faint, but he does find something. It’s been locked away by door and key, one that he could only scratch at but never get through. The pit of his soul where a sinner’s power grows, but how it can grow even more with another couple of souls at his fingertips.

From Alastor’s palm, a green flame erupts. It has shifting faces in it, merging from all the souls he still held onto.

Husk can’t help but look into the fire. It’s enticing. It’s addictive. And the fact that this would be an even playing field this time…

He once thought he didn’t miss being an Overlord, but suddenly, he feels so hungry.

“What makes you think we’d accept—”

“I want to be a beautiful bride!” Niffty cries into his ear.

“Ugh, fine. What makes you think I’d accept this? I could just walk off right now. I can break through your dumbass shield and never see your ugly mug again.”

He probably didn’t even need his old powers to do so. He could see the shadows begin to fade, how the spiderweb cracks spread behind Alastor. His boss—no, his ex-boss was running out of time.

Still, the only thing Alastor did was reach out further. A finger pressed underneath Husk’s chin, bringing up his gaze.

“Because I know you.”

Husk swallows. Even without the damn chain, he feels immobile.

“You’ve always been a greedy kitty. It’s why it was just so easy I could even get your soul in the first place!” Alastor laughs a little, as if reliving an old memory. “And I know how much you also like to win.”

The thrill of winning can be so intoxicating. 

Husk watches as the shield cracks even further, until a part of it ruptures, giving them a view of the outside. He sees the ruins of the V Tower again, and some of the shadows getting decimated by brainwashed sinners. He hears gunshots, and knows Valentino is probably having the time of his afterlife, which frankly irks him.

Niffty is salivating as she sees the carnage, and he feels a particular heat from her. Her pupil dilates, and her sharp teeth elongate. Her limbs, already thin as twigs, seem to get even thinner, like the sharp points of rusty needles.

The Overlord of all things sharp and stabby. Rumors say she typically cut apart most of her acquired souls out of habit, which probably made it all the more easy for Alastor to win her over.

Alastor ignores the commotion, even that of Vox’s unhinged ranting that they could hear once more (“Oh, finally showed up again?! Well, here’s another fucking thing! Your bob haircut is tacky!! I’m gonna shave off all that shit!”), and just keeps his gaze on Husk and Niffty.

Though, Alastor has already won Niffty over long ago. So it’s really just Husk.

His finger slowly slips from out of Husk’s chin, momentarily breaking a spell. His hand is now held open again, palm facing upwards.

“Now, how about it, dear? This time, you don’t have anything to lose.”

Husk’s wings rustle. Then they stretch—and then they grow bigger. The Lucky Gambler, once a big name back downtown, could push out a bunch of low-rollers from his casino with a beat of his wings alone. And that didn’t include the natural luck on his side, dodging a fatal blow and rolling snake eyes right between a demon’s own eyes, so that all that was left of them was brain matter and an empty wallet.

Niffty is breathing harder. He can also hear her rapid heartbeat, which is going so fast it’s like a hum.

“Equal partnership, between all three of us,” Husk states. An explosive whizzes right past them, blowing up another section of drywall from the tower. They all ignore it. “That means neither of us can order around the other. Unless one of us is into that.”

Niffty is practically frothing at the mouth, her spittle getting on Husk’s fur. 

“We get access to all the souls, not just those we used to own.” Husk raises a thick eyebrow at Alastor. “If you want us to be business partners, then we’re gonna share the wealth.”

And he expects Alastor to refuse. The man barely wants to share his own alcohol case back home with anyone besides maybe Rosie. No way he would agree to share his entire stash of souls. He’d probably eat them all first.

But Alastor doesn’t do that. He looks at Husk with a certain glee he can’t even name.

“And no loopholes, or hidden clauses, none of that shit,” Husk goes on. “If you want our help with this fight, you’re gonna learn to be a team player. Okay, partner?”

Oh, how he knows Alastor hates being on a team that’s not just him and him alone, more than anything else.

But the Radio Demon is such a proud abomination, so he keeps his hand out and smiles tightly. There’s also something else in his eyes, something beyond the bloodlust and the power hungry gaze. It’s so intense.

It’s excitement.

These are uncharted waters for Alastor. He has no idea how this will end, but it’s probably one of the most entertaining things he’s ever experienced.

“Fair enough,” Alastor complies. The flame in his hand grows brighter. “So, is it a deal?”

Niffty is about to launch herself right into Alastor’s palm before Husk grips her tiny—but shifting—body in his hand to steady her. Then, he gives a nod to Alastor. He holds out his own hand.

“Deal.” He glances back at Niffty. “You still in?”

She nods rapidly. “Deal! Deal! Let’s kill some bad boys!”

Husk clasps Alastor’s hand, and Niffty slams her tiny one on top of both of theirs. It’s almost akin to some weird friendship handshake. 

Light flickers around them, sealing it. Another explosion goes off, this time right at Alastor’s back. It singes just a bit of his hair. 

His grin widens, and his eyes become dials, turned all the way to the right. The feedback blares.

“Shall we?”

—

Niffty, in her Overlord prime, is a terrifying, beautiful thing.

Her smile is enough to rival Alastor’s, which says a lot. She’s more spindly, more quick, and her love of pointy things has deadly consequences for nearly everyone else around her. Husk wonders if she ever heard the phrase to not run with scissors, or if she did and just decided to take up on the challenge to its extreme.

She has gigantic as fuck scissors that could cut a demon clean in half, spraying blood all over the place. She gives a laugh before she runs over to her next victim on needle-thin limbs, sometimes running on all fours which makes her even more uncanny, like a spider that had been constructed out of wires. She’s a slasher flick brought to gory life, and she’d probably cut apart friend along with foe if he didn’t pointedly get out of her way.

Maybe it’s the sudden surge of power that makes her crazy, because Husk also finds himself going insane over it. Even so, it’s a red-tinged blur of adrenaline and luck on his side before it’s finally all over.

What he can gather out of the fight between Niffty and Velvette was brutal, but somehow, it’s the aftermath itself that’s even more unnecessarily violent.

“Stop that!! You’re messing it all up!” Velvette shouts through a mouthful of blood. 

Niffty uses her scissors to cut apart Velvette limb from limb. Though there’s blood and guts, Velvette’s body is absolutely abnormal. There are ball joints that connect her elbows to her arms, and her knees to her legs. Except Niffty was just sawing through what seemed like plastic that still housed blood inside.

“I used to always love playing with dolls,” Niffty whispers as she takes out one of her needles. “I loved pulling them apart then putting them back together again. Wanna see how?”

“Nooo!”

Husk makes sure to turn away while Velvette continues to scream and Niffty continues to laugh. At least she’s having fun.

Sitting against a piece of rubble, where he narrowly avoids the electricity of live wires that hung from nearby, he draws a pull on his cigar. He keeps a few of the things in his pockets when drinking isn’t doing much for him after all. Then, he puffs out the smoke at the downed face next to him. 

“Shame you can’t shoot for shit,” he says. His wings stay large, casting shadows over the cracked tiles and bodies of sinners that would probably regenerate in the next month, give or take. “Those glasses really just for decoration?”

Valentino is snarling through what’s left of his teeth, then coughs up a glob of blood. Both his antennas have been ripped off (for Niffty’s collection) and his stupid expensive sunglasses have been shattered. Some of the shards have embedded into his face, making the Pimp Overlord wince. His own wings are spread out, pinned at the edges by playing cards that are wicked sharp. They’ve already been half-sliced, along with the guy’s double-set of arms, which were laying around who knows where.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, gatito.” Valentino coughs again, raising up his face to give Husk the most obnoxious sneer. “Voy a matar al cabrón hijo de su puta madraaaaaaggh!”

Valentino’s screaming, along with sizzling skin, could be heard across the ruins. 

“Cállate la boca, pendejo.” Husk twists the end of his cigar further into Valentino’s eye. Further, and further, until it’s effectively ruined. Now he definitely can’t see for shit.

And further out there, he can see his boss’s hulking back—most likely relishing his victory. 

Valentino eventually did quiet down and went still, which Husk took as the opportunity to stretch his legs and flick away the cigar. It arcs in the air to land right onto Valentino’s back, giving another dark patch to his already burned-up coat.

Husk walks. His ears flick. Then he quickly shifts to the side to avoid a bullet that narrowly misses his head.

“Damn, guess having one eye was the best thing to happen to your aim.” With a turn, Husk grins at the bug who trembles while he holds his last bedazzled gun in his already mangled hand. He knows how his own eyes shine like gold coins, as dazzling as casino lights. “Hope you can shoot these away, for your sake.”

But Husk always has a good throwing hand when it comes to his dice, and the newly revived Overlord’s luck is still going strong as it explodes right at Valentino’s befuddled face.

Now, he can finally shift his attention to Alastor who’s busy playing with his food.

Vox huddles before the looming dark tower that is the Radio Demon. His face could also barely be even called a face anymore, the cracks so numerous, corrupting the video feed of his eyes and his mouth. It just fragments into chaos, the visual quality flickering, then fading, before flickering again, as if there had been a sudden power surge.

The TV set that was everything about him and more, looks ready to fall right off his shoulders and clatter to the ground.

“You… I hate you…” Vox grips a hand against the side of his screen, and tries to push it back in place. There are numerous other monitors hanging from a partly collapsed wall behind him, but more than half of them are dark, and the rest are flickering or giving their jarring blue screens of death.

Alastor, further craning down his neck, says nothing. But even Husk could see from here that his grin is absolutely euphoric. It covers nearly the entirety of his face, with his eyes bright red and highlighting Vox in all of his pathetic defeat.

Between his giant, curved fingers is his mic cane, looking as tiny as a toothpick in comparison. He holds it near Vox’s head.

“Speak into the mic, old friend.”

Vox trembles, then he lets loose with a tirade—or as much as he could. His own feed is too corrupted to get anything out right anymore, buffering at an embarrassingly slow rate. “I-I-I-I fu-fuc-fucking-g-g-g HATE y-y-you!! I-I-I-I’ll r-r-r-ip yo-o-o-ou a-a-p-p-art!! A-A-A-l-l-as-s-s-s-tor!!”

A pillar of shadow juts from the ground beneath, impaling him straight into his chest. Vox then just hangs there, his blocky head tilted to the right, his screen an array of colors before it also goes as dead as the rest of his empire. 

Alastor opens his mouth, his rows of teeth as big as slot machines. Husk can only imagine that his mouth is just a dark abyss, with nothing inside, because the Radio Demon is always hungry, all the time. Husk braces himself for the inevitable crunch, the final curtain for this TV mogul Overlord.

It’s all still for a moment, Vox hanging over his ultimate death, before the shadow that he’s impaled on suddenly throws him to the side. A small crash of glass and metal, followed by a spark of electricity, before going quiet again.

When Husk blinks, Alastor is back to normal, fixing up his bowtie and tucking his cane under his right arm. “He would just taste terrible.” Then he turns on his heel, facing Husk with a curious gaze. “Husker! Looks like you’ve put on a bit of weight!”

“You talking about my wings, asshole?” Husk shakes his head, before he also goes back to normal, a few loose feathers rustling loose to float in the air. He puts his power back into the pit of his soul, and his eyes burn less, no longer seeking out lady luck and her guiding hand. 

He takes a quick look around the ruined V Tower, with piles of corpses and machines littering the ground. Husk spreads his hands wide. “There. You won. Happy now?”

Alastor’s eyes are alight with jovial red. An upbeat jazz number plays from his mic cane, one that was more on the swing side than usual. “Incredibly!” he answers.

Niffty turns up just then, her head rising from the rubble and breaking apart the cement cleanly. She’s only the long, spindly creature that had cut up bodies for a moment, before she finally reverts back to her tiny self—though still covered in an immense amount of blood.

“That was amazing!! Let’s do it again!” Niffty pops up further, freeing her legs before she runs up to Alastor and grabs at his coat. “Can we? Can we? I want to keep fighting in gang wars like I used to!”

…Husk then recalls an old story about the bloodbath massacre in downtown around the 60’s, before his time, much of it perpetuated by an Overlord that was said to be manic and off her rocker. Had that been her?

Alastor pets her head fondly, like she’s his loyal maid once more. Husk doesn’t expect much to happen. His ex-boss, now partner, got his victory and probably wanted to savor it without them haggling him. Lone wolf and all that.

But then, Alastor faces Husk, still with that happy grin on his face to go along with the happy tune. “You know, that did go rather swimmingly! Perhaps this truly was the best route after all.”

Husk raises an eyebrow. “I would hope so since you’re the one that came up with the arrangement in the first place.”

“Yes, yes, but I was going to double-cross you once this was through.” Alastor nods like that’s a normal thing to say. “You both are truly professionals! I didn’t even notice the other two all the while I was dealing with Vox.”

“Back up a sec, you were going to what now? You promised no loopholes-!”

But Niffty quickly overtakes the conversation, keening happily as she once again lifts up her giant scissor. There’s a bit of familiar red hair on its sharp edges, along with dried up blood. “Now that we’re all married, we can go paint the town red!”

Alastor nods again. “Right as rain as you always are, dear Niffty. Except for the marriage aspect, but whatever makes you happy!”

“Hey, partner,” Husk nags a bit, catching Alastor’s attention. “So you’re saying you want to stick with this? I’ll forgive the whole double-crossing shit if you keep giving us the fair share.”

At that, Alastor lowers his eyelids, but doesn’t do so as a threat. It’s almost like he’s so pleased with what Husk is saying, with how he looks. “Share the wealth, of course.”

Then the Radio Demon looks around at the rubble, which is when another V logo falls off the wall to crash into a million pieces. And then is promptly set on fire, for no discernable reason.

“But first, we should make our base of operations, as by the bouts of combat, we have won this very valuable territory!” Alastor taps a claw against his chin. “Now, if only we had a name…”

“We really need one?” Husk asks.

“The Vees did!”

“Yeah, and the Vees are also dead as fuck.”

“Silly boys!” Niffty wags her finger at them, now slinging her giant scissor across her shoulder like it was a loaded shotgun. “Everyone knows when you’re married that you go by the last name! Mr. and Mr. and Mrs. Radio Demon!”

“That’s a mouthful,” Husk tells her. “Also no.”

“Ah! I got it!” Alastor snaps his fingers to telegraph his obvious eureka moment. “We should call ourselves the A’s!”

“...No? That literally makes no sense with our names.”

“Well, if we get the right papers for the official name changes—”

“What name would I even get?! Husk is just fine, dammit!”

“Touchy, aren’t we?” Alastor leans suddenly very close to Husk, patting his shoulder. “Then how about the Aces?” He pokes at him. “Because of your card tricks?”

Husk considers, very briefly. He then gestures a so-so motion with his hand. “Eh. What does that even have to do with Niffty?”

“Well, I’m just spouting out ideas. Not like you’re helping!”

“Okay, fine. How about the Wild Cards? Got a nice ring to it.”

“Now, now, Husker. This isn’t all about you!”

“Oh, and the A’s name wasn’t just all for your ego!”

But the smile that’s on Alastor’s face is almost genuine, almost thrilled at Husk’s clapback. Of course he’d be happy after a murdering spree of dozens of souls, including that of one of his rival Overlords that could never shut up. Alastor then pulls in both Husk and Niffty into a hug, one that’s a bit tight around Husk’s ribs. He seems to particularly rub his cheek against Husk’s, enjoying the feel of the fur. Asshole. 

“My dear partners! As long as you never disappoint me, we’ll be going straight to the top!” Silence, then static laces his voice just slightly, distorting the soft jazz that had been playing. “Right? You won’t disappoint me?”

Niffty nods while Husk rolls his eyes. “Then don’t disappoint us, either. If not, we’re voting you out.”

“I’ll always vote for Sir!” Niffty instantly proclaims.

“Niff, can you work with me a little here?”

Alastor chuckles, still holding them in his group hug, despite the fires starting everywhere and the smoke filling the air. “I see big things coming our way for sure!”

Husk glances around again. “If you mean the fire that’s starting on the south exit and heading our way, then yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Indeed! This place ought to be condemned!” With that, Alastor laughed, unhinged, neck cricking and cracking. “Haha! Hahahaha!”

“Burning alive with my husbands is the best thing a girl can ask for!”

“Seriously, can we go?”

By the time they do eventually leave, the newly teamed up Overlords still hadn’t decided on a name for themselves. What else would we even call ourselves that Alastor would want? Husk thinks once they’re back outside on the streets, watching the tower burn itself out so they can ‘redecorate,’ as Alastor calls it. The Radio Gang? Radio Trio? That’s stupid. But it’s gonna be something that makes him the head honcho for sure.

Yet, as Husk watches the smoke curl up into the red-tinged sky, hearing Niffty still laughing and Alastor hum along to his tune, he can’t say he hates it. 

Maybe like his new grinning partner, he’s just as oddly excited about the future.

[ruleroftheimps]

“What if Val owned Vox’s soul” this, and “what if Al owned Vox’s soul” that. What if VELVETTE owned Vox’s soul? Poof, Streamer Vox now exists. Idfk, I’m sleep deprived lol. I want to expand on this idea, but I also have nothing to add, soooo…

Wait, scratch that, I do.

I have like, two routes I can take here. One, Velvette came into possession of Vox’s soul after he lost a fight with Alastor and needed backup, and she, being the petty bitch I just know she is, made him make a deal to get it. It doesn’t really do much because he’s sort of the unofficial public leader of the Vees and any bad publicity about him is bad publicity for them all, but she does make him do streams and modeling stuff every once in a while, and also deal with Valentino a bit more on her behalf. And also stop talking about Alastor so much. Just. Stop. It doesn’t really change stuff THAT much, because she just doesn’t care. It’s just a way to get what she wants every once in a while, there’s no big changes.

Orrrrrr 2, the more interesting route, which is just genuinely awful so do keep that in mind if you keep reading, Velvette came into possession of Vox’s soul after he lost a fight with Alastor and needed backup, and she, being the manipulative bitch I just know she is, has been planning this since the moment she fell into Hell. The Media Demon? Who the hell's that? Nah, the guy with the TV for a head is Vox, Velvette's most popular streamer. Oh, why? Well, if you ever had any grudge against the Vees, or Alastor since everybody knows these two were friends once, you can just call live and stream, donate somewhere upwards of five souls, and get to watch him mutilate himself live! How fun is that? (Aka, he has to do whatever the viewers want since it gets more views, and a LOT of people hold grudges against people adjacent to him. Most were neutral at worst about Vox). Yeah, that totally doesn't have an effect on a guy's self esteem.

Genuinely not sure why, but Staticdust would work great in the second one. (For the record, I turn almost everything into a ship because I want the characters to have emotional security. It's usually not romantic, just like. I want this character to suffer, but also have somebody they can lean on for support during the suffering. Just one hyperspecific person. Everybody else is not trustable.) Probably because they're both the favorites of the remaining Vees, so they can relate. Angel Dust would 100% try to bring Vox to the hotel, but Vox is a, not allowed to leave without permission, and b, Alastor's there and Vox is very much scared of him.

Also, her chains look like pink scarves or smth, I don’t know why that popped in my head, but it did and is now canon in my mind until I am proven wrong lol.

[aurorasilverthorne]

Doe — A Deer — A Female Deer!

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Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!! Hazbin Hotel and all of its characters belong to Vivziepop and Amazon Prime.

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Overlord meetings either made her feel awkward or uncomfortable. It depended on who was in attendance. Rosie didn’t mind Zestial or Carmilla most of the time. Zeezi and Kilian were alright. She adored Alastor. But the Vees…ugh! Velvette—the loudmouth little shit talker was the most tolerable. Vox was a raging, petty bitch boy. And Valentino…his lewd remarks and unwelcome advances were enough to make Rosie’s stomach turn, which was saying something considering her cannibalistic tendencies.

She waited as long as possible before entering the conference room. Walking in with Alastor was usually enough to deter the pimpmoth, especially if they sat beside Zestial. Unfortunately, Alastor had yet to arrive. Part of Rosie feared he’d disappear again for another seven years. The thought formed a lump in her throat she forced herself to choke down. The others were already inside and ready to start. Valentino—the bastard he was, had claimed the seat between Zestial and the remaining unoccupied chairs.

Rosie glanced toward the elevators hoping and praying they’d open with a resounding ding and Alastor would step out. Nothing happened. No ding. No open doors. No dapper deer gent to rescue her from the clutches of Hell’s greatest pervert. Rosie bit back a groan and made her way to the table back straight and head held high determined to ignore the attending Vee.

The meeting began as they always did with roll call. It continued with a list of boring, drawn-out conversations about current events and other tedious things. The exterminations were still on hold and would be until further notice thanks to Charlie’s efforts and Carmilla’s knowledge of angelic steel and how to use it against exorcists. Rosie only half listened glancing at the door periodically looking for any sign of their resident wendigo.

Where was Alastor? Was he avoiding her? She’d been present during the battle, had seen him take a severe blow to the chest from Adam’s weapon. He’d come to her later for medical assistance. She’d cleaned, treated, and bandaged his wound. He’d promised to visit in the near future once repairs on the hotel were complete. She hadn’t seen, heard from, or spoken to him since. That had been a month ago.

Rosie tensed when she felt a familiar presence next to her. Valentino had switched chairs. He sat so close she could smell the overwhelming stench of his expensive cologne. She fought the urge to gag as he leaned in. His breath smelled of cigarillos and liquor. “What are you looking for, hermosa? Don’t you know everything you could ever want is right here?” He gestured to himself with what he probably thought was an alluring smile.

Rosie wrinkled her nose—or she would’ve if she’d had one. “I doubt that.”

The moth demon’s ill-tempered nature was legendary. It showed in how his expression twisted from false charm to petulant in the blink of an eye. “Hey, don’t blame me because your favorite furry isn’t here.” His suave facade slid back into place quicker than a snap of one’s fingers. “I’d never abandon you, Rosita.” He took her hand making her skin crawl as he brought it to his lips. “Forget Alastor. Date me instead. I don’t mind the occasional love bite.” His tongue slid out of his mouth to run along her knuckles.

Rosie jerked her hand out of his and recoiled. “That is disgusting!”

Everyone looked up and silence filled the room. Carmilla narrowed her eyes at Valentino before addressing Rosie. “Something you’d like to share with the rest of us, Rosie?”

The Cannibal Queen refused to falter under the weapons dealer's disdainful gaze. “Yeah. I have something to say.” She stood up and put one hand on her hip while pointing a finger at Valentino. “This prick’s been harassing me for weeks now, and not a damn one of you has said or done shit about it. These meetings are supposed to be neutral, not a breeding ground for sexual perversion. I’m leaving, you hear me? And if you don’t like it, feel free to kiss my ass!”

Carmilla’s eyes widened in shock as Rosie turned to leave. Zestial opened his mouth to speak, but Val beat him to it. “Hey! No one speaks to or about me that way, especially some cheap, tacky old slut from the cannibal colony!”

Rosie kept walking determined to get out of there. Before she could reach the door, Valentino lunged up out of his chair, one hand latching onto her hat while the other dug into the fabric of her gown just below her waistline. Rosie gasped caught off guard by the other demon’s rough attempt to drag her back to the table. She whirled around intent on elbowing him in the face or throat, but Val sidestepped, retaliating with a backhand to the face that left Rosie seeing stars.

The other overlords were about to intervene when something—or rather someone—slammed full force into the moth and sent him flying backward onto the table. The sheer strength of the collision knocked Rosie off balance. She landed on her knees catching herself with her hands as the sound of torn fabric filled her ears. Cool air danced along her doe ears and tail. One hand flew to her hair, the other to the lowest part of her spine in a futile attempt to hide what the others had already seen.

“Holy shit,” Zeezi exclaimed. “She’s a deer too!”

Rosie twisted around desperate to locate her hat. Val had taken it and a portion of her dress with him. He and Alastor were still grappling on the table. Val tried to kick Alastor off of him, but The Radio Demon was relentless and unyielding, landing punch after punch to any and every part of Valentino’s body he could reach. The solid wood beneath them caved in, but even that did nothing to dampen Alastor’s fury. He dug his nails into Val’s scalp and began slamming the pimp’s head against the concrete floor. “Don’t you ever touch her again you filthy piece of shit!”

Rosie winced at the sound of cracking bone. She felt something brush her shoulders and looked up to see Kilian putting his coat around her. Meanwhile, Alastor’s red scleras blackened and his pupils morphed into radio dials as he slashed at Valentino’s face, neck, and chest with his elongating claws.

“Get this fucker away from me,” Val screamed.

Zestial moved forth in a blur taking hold of Alastor. It took him and Zeezi working together to drag Alastor off of Val. Alastor struggled against their hold compelled by unparalleled anger at the moth’s repulsive treatment toward his Rosie.

“Alastor, cesar y desistir,” Carmilla ordered. Her commands fell on deaf ears.

Valentino crawled to the opposite side of the room putting as much distance between himself and the deranged deer demon as possible. His upper body was covered in deep gashes and fresh bruises, his attire soaked in blood. He pointed a trembling finger at Alastor. “Keep that thing away from me!”

Alastor hissed and gnashed his teeth. Zestial responded by slamming a wave of his dark magic down on the wendigo. Alastor bleated in pain breaking Rosie out of her stupor. She jumped up and ran to Alastor. “Don’t hurt him,” she cried, pushing Zestial away from Alastor. Much to everyone’s surprise, the ancient spider demon relented without protest and made no attempt to reprimand her.

Rosie knelt down beside Alastor and placed a hand on his back. The sound of her voice, gentle touch, and sweet lavender scent jolted him back to reality. His eyes returned to normal while his body shrank down to its natural size. She cupped his cheek and buried her face in the crook of his neck to soothe him.

He turned his head to meet her eye. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head following his gaze as it dropped to the coat draped around her. Rosie didn’t argue or fight him when he peeled it off her to replace it with his own. His instincts were likely screaming at him to make it clear to those present that she was already spoken for. Rosie cupped his face and rested his forehead against hers. Alastor's permanent smile softened as he wrapped her in a warm embrace and released what their onlookers could only assume was a content buck bleat.

“Awww,” Zeezi cooed. “So cute!”

Carmilla took a breath to steady herself. She didn’t like reprimanding Rosie or Alastor, especially for something Valentino had started, but there were rules and regulations when it came to overlord assemblies. She squared her shoulders and her voice took on an authoritative tone. “Alastor Dubois, Rosie Hunt?” Alastor stood and helped Rosie to her feet. They both turned toward Carmilla. “You are hereby banned from attending overlord gatherings for the next three months.”

Rosie scoffed. “Whatever. Ain’t no skin off my ass.”

Alastor wrapped a protective arm around her as they headed for the door. Valentino flipped them off thinking they couldn’t see with their backs turned. Alastor paused in the doorway to glare and snarl at the moth over his shoulder. Val screamed like the sissy bitch he really was and pressed himself against the wall. Alastor huffed and guided Rosie out into the hall.

Alastor always smelled of black coffee and pipe tobacco. Rosie breathed him in realizing right away his scent was stronger than usual. “You’re in rut,” she whispered, waiting until they were far enough away from the others to ensure they wouldn’t hear their conversation. “Is that why you haven’t visited me?”

“I didn’t want to risk harming you by succumbing to my baser needs,” he answered, pressing the first floor button.

“Oh, Al, you’d never hurt me,” Rosie assured him as they stepped onto the elevator.

The door slid closed behind them, though not before they saw Carmilla boot Val out of the conference room having banished him as well. Rosie covered her mouth to muffle a giggle at seeing the weapons dealer literally kicking the pimp’s ass all the way down the corridor to the adjacent stairwell. Her smile faded when Alastor removed his arm from around her so he could move to the other side of the elevator as they started their slow descent to the front lobby.

“You’re perfume,” he murmured, turning his face away and averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s so…”

“I’m in estrus,” she confessed, which explained why Val had been even more aggressive toward her than he’d been at previous meetings.

Rosie tried to close the distance between them but he held out his arm to stop her. “Don’t, Rosie, please…” The adrenaline from his fight with Valentino was still coursing through him along with the overwhelming desire to mate.

Rosie caught a glimpse of his strained expression. “Al…”

Without warning, she reached over, yanked open the emergency compartment, and pressed a button. Alastor swayed slightly when the elevator stopped. He lifted his head and saw her close the panel. “Rosie, what are you—”

Rosie silenced him with a kiss. Alastor’s ears jerked upright at the sudden, unexpected interaction. He tried to pull back but she cupped the back of his head and pinned him against the wall with her body. “The cameras,” he warned.

“I don’t care who sees. Let them watch. Maybe they’ll learn something.”

Alastor’s resolve melted away as she trailed kisses along his jawline and throat. He flipped them around pressing her against the wall while she undid his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. “Please don’t hold back,” she begged.  

He hiked up her silk skirt so it pooled at her hips. “Dearest Rosie, I’d never withhold anything from you.”

_______________

The other overlords stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the screen in front of them. They’d left the conference room the moment they’d noticed the red light flash above the elevator. Carmilla, leading the way, had run to her office thinking the elevator had stalled due to a technical malfunction. She’d snatched up the phone on her desk planning to reassure Rosie and Alastor they’d get them out as soon as possible only to freeze after noticing what was unfolding on the security feed currently displayed on her computer.

“Santa mierda! Are you serious right now?”

Zestial tilted his head to get a look and immediately averted his gaze. “Oh, my…”

Zeezi started laughing so hard she had to lean against the desk to keep herself upright. “It’s demonic Animal Planet!”

Kilian blushed then turned away. “We shouldn’t watch. It’s impolite.”

“They’re fucking in my elevator!” Carmilla yelled.

“Be glad it isn’t your office or the conference room,” Zeezi wheezed.

“She doth have a point,” Zestial admitted.

Carmilla facepalmed.

______________

[notwhatiam]

It’s unfortunately occurring to me that Alastor has a remarkably and disturbingly similar energy to Ianthe Tridentarius.

Allow me to explain:

—Tumblr sexyman

—Tall dapper bitch

—Owns souls that aren’t theirs

—Does things that are not… NOT cannibalism

—Beloved by the fandom. Specifically, 85% of the fandom’s smut fic is written about them

—Cares for nothing but chaos. Exists in the plot for no other reason but to cause chaos. Sometimes helpful, but only by accident

—Reluctant coworkers with God/the Devil. Deciding to be petty about it

—Absolutely delusional about how much everybody else cares about what they’re doing

—Starts pointless rivalries with the 2 people who actually care about what they’re doing

—Generally just a gross fucking freak

Also, I personally love them both. Follow me for more literary analysis

[pageofheartdj]

Funniest option: Lucifer was really into television for a while early on (some decade before now??) but he got so into it that he sorta just.. watched. Sorta like how currently he makes rubber sucks hypermode style?

(<- not to the same degree as the ducks. Possible option: he was really into the Adam's Family television show and quit when it stopped airing because "the rest was convoluted or mindless without reason (aka no circus motifs?? No hell motifs?? No healthy families or stuff free of sexism or racism or other such things? ALSO in the 60s or 70s they made a TON of propaganda television stuff so)

He had a moment of "this ain't good!" and fully quit and because he's immortal a few decades is like nothing to him, at least when it isn't related to his loved ones. It was sorta hypnotizing for him for a while because wow! Humans are achieving things they only categorized as magic mere decades prior!!

The unfortunate side effect is that while he may be sorta up to date with lingo, he ALSO shares a mutual avoidance of television with Alastor (what do they do when they find out????)

He liked tv, but current media became trash so he dipped out xD

But seriously, with his depression, tv can drag in deep. At least with ducks he creates something and has a physical proof and he does something that he actually likes. While being glued to the screen make it feels like nothing happens while time flies by.

Reminds me the whole Butler show with Greg from SU, so Lucifer avoids tv, otherwise he'll get addicted again lkjhgfs

Guess he had a moment of realization that he just wastes time and feels like garbage. So hey, some self-care by dropping it! Good for him! I hc that Alastor didn't hate tv before but because of his falling out with Vox he despises it and trashes it at any given moment because he a petty bitch jkhg

[zaebeecee]

To Sever a Loveless Bond

•• RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 18/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

•••

Heavy chapter incoming y’all

CW: implied rape (probably the strongest warning that I’ve given, because it’s only ‘implied’ in as much as it’s just skipped over in the narrative and is not on screen in any capacity, but it absolutely happens), emotional manipulation and coercion, threats against Fat Nuggets, way too much 20s slang, making a skittish demiaro talk about feelings with a stranger (I’m sorry Alastor)

•••

“You sure look calm for a bitch who doesn’t know what he’s walking into.”

“My dear, I have faced down countless adversaries in my time. I am hardly intimidated by a contact of yours.”

Despite his words, Alastor didn’t like the way Cherri Bomb was smirking at him. The two of them had never gotten along—he found her company tedious, and she had a laundry list of his failings ready to go at all times—but it had grown substantially worse in her brief time at the hotel, and it seemed absence had not made her heart grow fonder in the slightest. And now, she was accompanying him to the apparent rendezvous point, which meant he was going to be trapped in her company for at least an hour.

Not his ideal way to spend the evening.

It didn’t help that, despite Blitzø’s warnings and assurances, he was still feeling… bloodthirsty, he supposed was the proper word. An altercation with Cherri Bomb would have gone quite a way to assist in that feeling, but though she had come in geared up to fling explosives into his face, she now seemed more than content to turn this into her punishment. It was odd, because he could still feel the hostility radiating off of her in waves; was whatever he had waiting for him really going to give her that much catharsis?

Cherri Bomb was also (apparently) entirely immune to his lackadaisical attitude and flippant behavior, because instead of irritating her, she was only growing more smug as she led them into the Greed District. Alastor didn’t really spend much time here, having little business to conduct with the sorts of sinners who made their fortunes there with gambling and petty crime, and was thus rather unfamiliar with the streets they walked down and the buildings they passed. Cherri Bomb led him into what looked like a fairly standard office building, rather pleasantly decorated (for Hell), and ignored the receptionists as she headed directly for the elevators.

“Get in,” she directed, jerking her head at him and holding the door open.

Alastor raised an eyebrow at her, but stepped in beside her, turning to face the door and folding his hands behind his back. She didn’t press a button, but instead, flicked open a panel and put in an access code; once it was accepted, there was a soft beep, and the elevator began descending. Alastor watched this with the mild curiosity of someone who had literally nothing else to concentrate on or think about. “Someone doesn’t like company, I assume?”

“You could say that,” she said. “He doesn’t like being bothered, so he’s made sure he isn’t.”

Alastor shrugged. “I suppose I can respect that.”

The elevator opened onto a long, dark hallway lit with electrical lamps reminiscent of his own time, though perhaps a little later. The moment they exited, they were approached by a shark, who looked Alastor over critically while addressing his temporary companion. “This a friend’a yers, Miss Cherri Bomb?”

She actually laughed at that, a single sharp burst. “No,” she said. “But he’s the one your boss wants to see.”

The shark didn’t look adequately impressed, to Alastor’s thinking, but he just nodded and backed off to permit them to pass. Despite that, Alastor could feel the shark watching them as they headed down the hallway and stopped outside a door. Cherri Bomb raised her fist and knocked sharply, a rhythm that sounded intentional without being immediately distinctive. A voice bade them enter, and she did, stepping in before him and leaving him to shut the door as he followed.

The room wasn’t as dark or dimly-lit as Alastor might have expected for some kind of underground lair, but the decor was very muted with much black and grey, lending a sense of style to the room that was either elegant or dull (he hadn’t decided which yet). A fireplace sat at the far end of the room with a small sitting area, lamps hung from the ceiling, the wood flooring was pale gray and the walls were black damask, and the space in front of them was dominated by a dark wood desk with two chairs in front of it and several filing cabinets behind it.

“So. You’re the sharper Tony’s got caught up with, I hear that right?”

Alastor narrowed his eyes at the immediate use of an insult. “I beg your pardon?”

The man behind the desk was… small. Perhaps no taller than Niffty, were he to stand up. His entire body was a uniform charcoal gray, including his hair, and he was dressed in a black and gray suit that didn’t know what era it wanted to belong to. But it was the arms—all six of them—and the eyes that let Alastor know who this man was. Eight eyes, all a dull and muted pink, with two large primary eyes and three smaller on each side.

This… was Angel Dust’s brother. Alastor had listened to enough of Angel’s tangents over their nights together to doubt it in the slightest. And, despite all of Angel’s complaining… he would never, never forgive Alastor if he did anything to hurt his brother.

Fuck.

“You heard me.” Arackniss—Alastor was fairly certain Angel had called him that—reached out with one arm and tapped ash from his cigarette and into a crystal ashtray on his desk. He had two other hands folded just under his chin, his eyes all focused on Alastor with a laser intensity that told him a brazen lack of fear ran in the family. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re the Radio Demon. I wouldn’t give a fuck if you were Lucifer himself. You’re in my house, you answer my goddamn question. Are you the one Tony took up with?”

“…I am the one Angel… took up with, yes,” Alastor said, tightening his hands together on the top of his staff.

Arackniss made a noise of distaste, but oddly, Alastor couldn’t begin to parse it; was it because he was a man, because he was the Radio Demon, or a secret third thing? The spider didn’t elaborate, sitting back in his chair and watching Alastor from under the brim of his hat. “The Vees’ latest rag would have me believe you’re responsible for roughin’ my little brother up. That true?”

“No,” Alastor said. “That would have been the Vees, with whom I’m fairly certain Angel has been acquainted for the last… fifty or so years?”

The jab about family attentiveness didn’t go unnoticed; Arackniss narrowed his eyes. “My brother was very firm that I was to stay outta his business where work is concerned. And I’ve done that, as requested; ain’t meddled with him or nothin’ of the sort. I gather Cherri here told you why you were brought to me?”

Alastor did not, under any circumstances, appreciate being treated as though he were lesser than this base criminal sinner who didn’t even possess the power of an overlord. “Oh, yes, she did,” he said with a smile. “I was given the impression that, were I not to debase myself to you, you would refuse to assist in Angel’s current predicament. This leads me to wonder why you are so very cross with me, if you would leave him to his own devices anyway.”

Arackniss leaned forward again, pointing at Alastor with his cigarette. “Don’t give me the high hat, pally. I got the rundown from Cherri. You know someone who can get him outta his contract. And I’m gonna get it to that fucker, no matter what you say to me; what you say is gonna determine what happens after.”

Alastor felt his smile tightening. “Please, do enlighten me.”

“You answer my questions, and you ask me nice? I’ll get that contract to you, and Tony’ll be none the wiser about my involvement. You can even tell him you went and got it, I don’t give a fuck. But if you think you’re too good to ask for help, for my brother’s sake?” Arackniss narrowed his eyes at Alastor. “I’ll get the contract. I’ll get it to your contact myself. And after it’s broken, I’ll bring Tony right back here and make sure that he’s well aware you saw your ego as something more precious and worth protecting than his soul. Capisce?”

Alastor didn’t speak for a moment. That… was an alarmingly well thought out threat. “Understood.”

“Beautiful. Please, sit,” Arackniss said with no change of his coldness or aggression, but a distinct change in hospitality as he motioned to one of the chairs before the desk; Alastor took his offer, noting that Cherri Bomb did not do the same, instead electing to… hover over his shoulder, somewhere behind him. “What’s your poison, Mister Radio Demon?”

Alastor couldn’t help marveling at how different that title sounded coming from someone besides Angel, even though the accent was the same. And, since he had agreed to answer the questions he had posited to him, “Rye, if you have it. Neat.”

“American?”

“Of course. Do I seem Canadian to you?”

“Good man.” Arackniss raised his hand and snapped. An imp that Alastor hadn’t even noticed practically scurried out of the shadows, returning with a glass and offering it to Alastor. He took it, keeping his own gaze on Arackniss, who withdrew a cigarette case from his jacket and opened it in offering. Alastor accepted, aware it would be rude not to, but lit it with his own finger. “Now,” Arackniss said, snapping the case shut and slipping it away again. “I ain’t never met the Vees before, but I’m given to understand that you got beef with them. Or, in the very least, with Vox. That the case?”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “Vox takes issue with me. I prefer not to think of him at all.”

“Uh-huh. That why they dropped that piece on the two of you?”

I should have known this would be unavoidable. “Likely. Vox has been most preoccupied with the idea of besting me in the court of public opinion. The fact that his social popularity vastly outweighs my own is, apparently, immaterial to him.”

Arackniss looked as though he were thinking, but about what, Alastor did not know him well enough to guess. “But you have been takin’ my brother out,” he said, pointing loosely with his cigarette. “Those pictures weren’t fake.”

“…no. They were not fake.”

“Alright. I’m curious enough.” Arackniss sat back, resting one elbow on the arm of his chair. “How the fuck’d my little brother end up on the arm of the Radio Demon? From what I hear, you ain’t exactly the type to play butter and egg man for a hoochie-coocher like Tony.”

“What the fuck are you geezers talking about?” Cherri Bomb finally snapped.

“In more modern terms, my dear, he is accusing me of being his promiscuous brother’s easily duped sugar daddy,” Alastor answered without taking his eyes off Arackniss, who was now smirking. “To your question, I presume you know Angel has taken up residence at the Hazbin Hotel, where I currently lend Princess Charlotte my services as hotelier.” Arackniss nodded once, so Alastor continued, “We became acquainted through that residency together, and I suppose it could be argued we became friendly with one another.”

Arackniss tilted his head a little. “Cut the coy shit,” he said. “I know you ain’t a john. So, why were you, a demon known for his inability to politely socialize, takin’ Tony out to clubs and restaurants?”

Alastor closed his eyes for just a moment, calming himself. He wasn’t positive why he was feeling so agitated, just that simply stating it seemed somehow daunting. “…because he is my soulmate.”

The following silence was heavy. Arackniss rolled his cigarette back and forth between his thumb and index finger, all eight eyes focused unblinkingly on Alastor’s face. Finally, he asked, “You his?” Alastor nodded. “Okay. That’s a start. Continue.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “I’m not following.” That was a lie, he absolutely was, but knowing how Arackniss would phrase his clarification would tell him a lot. Hopefully.

“You’re soulmates. I’ve been down here long enough to know that don’t mean shit on its own. So, what were you hopin’ to accomplish with these outings of yours?”

Alastor tapped his claws on the rim of his glass. “…when we first… discovered this, Angel was instructed by his benevolent employers that he had a month to find a way to get rid of it. And, as I was less than enthused myself, we spoke to Pentagram City’s resident self-proclaimed ‘love expert’ about a solution. Rosie advised us that a spell to break a soul bond existed, but that not only would she need to locate it, we would need to… complete our spiritual union, as it were. Angel decided this meant an increase in our spending time together, so we did, with an eye towards using it to facilitate breaking the bond.”

“And did you?” Arackniss asked. “Break it, I mean.”

“No.”

“Did you complete the bond?”

“Yes.”

“Did she find the ritual?”

“Yes.”

“Has she attempted to conduct it yet?”

“Yes.”

Arackniss blinked slowly, before he leaned forward, putting out the butt of his cigarette and folding his hands on the desk. “So. You did everything you needed to break it, and then you didn’t break it. Why?”

Alastor tried to draw a deep breath as subtly as possible. “Because… I left.”

“You left.”

“When she asked for my consent during the ritual, I refused, and I left. I presume Angel was taken upon leaving Cannibal Town; doubtless the Vees were paranoid enough to have him followed.”

“Hold it,” Arackniss said. “Don’t think I don’t see you tryin’ to skirt the issue here. You refused. Why?”

“…I don’t know.” The worst phrase in my vocabulary. And yet, it was still true. Alastor couldn’t begin to fathom why he had done what he did, simply that he couldn’t go through with it.

Arackniss didn’t look convinced. “You don’t know.” That echo is getting incredibly aggravating. “You wanted to keep the soul bond?”

“I don’t know,” Alastor said more firmly, trying to keep his hackles from rising and causing more conflict than was strictly necessary.

“Do you love my brother?”

Alastor felt something snap in the back of his mind.

“I don’t think Angel Dust deserves to be tortured because he was stupid and fell in love with someone.”

“I DON’T KNOW!!” Alastor shouted as he surged to his feet and threw the glass in his hand at the wall, where it burst into a thousand tiny shards of glass and beads of alcohol. Arackniss didn’t move, simply watching him impassively, even as Cherri Bomb stopped her wandering and backed up towards the door.

Finally, Arackniss nodded. “About time I got some honesty outta you.” Alastor twitched, projecting radio static that bounced between his anger and his confusion for a second. Arackniss didn’t elaborate on what he meant. “I’ll get the contract to you at the Hotel as soon as I got my hands on it, probably somewhere between two and six in the morning. That gonna be an inconvenience?”

“…no,” Alastor said, trying to keep his voice under control even as his breath hissed beneath the word. “I don’t sleep.”

“A shocking revelation,” Arackniss said blankly. “Just do me a favor and don’t do nothin’ stupid between now and then. It’s only a few hours but I ain’t takin’ chances with you.”

Alastor smiled at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Arackniss. I can be exceptionally well-behaved.” Before he could respond or Cherri Bomb could speak, the shadows opened up beneath him, and Alastor vanished into them, welcoming the embrace of nothingness. It was all too much for him to take; he couldn’t be preoccupied with his own hangups or whatever Arackniss was while Angel was actively in peril. But he could be patient. He could stay out of the way, for now.

Once Blitzø’s contact found that inevitable loophole, Alastor wouldn’t hold back. He would kill Valentino. He would kill Vox. He would even kill Velvette.

But, for now, he was going to repair his desk.

•••

The cables unwound themselves and retracted back into the ceiling with the hiss of metal scraping against metal, and Angel Dust barely had time to register he was free before he fell to the concrete floor with a painful smack.

“Oh, amorcito. Are you alright?”

The sarcasm in Valentino’s voice was even more prominent than it usually was when he inquired after Angel’s well-being. “Nnh,” was all Angel managed to say in response, his limbs trembling as he attempted to shove himself off the ground. They wouldn’t hold his weight, the cold and the loss of blood sapping all of his strength and rendering him barely able to lift his head off the floor.

“Pathetic,” Valentino said before he reached down and grabbed Angel by the arm. His hand felt so hot against Angel’s cold skin that it almost burned, and as Valentino lifted him off the ground and up into his arms, Angel couldn’t bite back a quiet sob. His cheek pressed against Valentino’s furred collar, thick with the smell of pheromones and smoke, and he thought he could pass out again as Valentino cradled the smaller sinner against his chest and carried him from the room.

Angel was only distantly aware of his surroundings as they went through the back halls of VoxTek. It was late, so there were no employees around, just stretches of cool and silent hallways that always managed to feel sort of haunted during the night.

“You’re never leaving this building again, Angel.” Valentino’s voice was matter of fact. If Angel didn’t know him so well, he would think the overlord sounded concerned or even protective. “In fact, I have half a mind to never let you out of my sight.”

You have half a mind, alright.

Angel couldn’t protest or do anything at all except curl into himself, inadvertently pressing into Valentino as he did. “M’cold, Val,” he managed to murmur; at the moment, his only hope for getting any kind of relief at all was to kiss Val’s ass, and Angel wasn’t too proud to pretend to be defeated and sorry if it got him a blanket or even some bandages.

“I know, araña, I know,” Valentino murmured. “I think your current punishment has gone on long enough. After all, you’ll need to be in good condition when the Radio Demon arrives.”

Alastor isn’t here. Angel didn’t know if he felt abandoned or relieved, but it had to be the second one. Alastor hadn’t abandoned him, because Angel had never belonged to him to begin with. He nodded once, hoping Valentino felt the response, and closed his eyes.

Minutes later, Angel was in a room so much warmer than the studio that it felt stiflingly hot. Almost immediately, he began shivering, a tremble that started gently but worked itself into something close to an uncontrollable spasm. Valentino set him on his chaise, stripped him (Angel could barely put up any resistance, not like it mattered), and bandaged him with the same ruthless efficiency he had used the first time he had ever cut his ‘amorcito’ open. Valentino turned away, leaving Angel to lean against the back of the chaise and returning a moment later with a large pink and purple sweater that Angel recognized as one of the overlord’s. The idea of wearing something of Valentino’s—something that would even superficially enforce their master/pet relationship—made Angel feel nauseated, but the thought of remaining naked in front of Val was worse.

But Valentino just stood in front of him, looking at him through his sunglasses with an exaggerated expression of consideration. Angel bit his lip. “…V-Val…?” he managed, sitting up a little better and almost immediately slipping down again.

“I’m not certain I should give you this,” Valentino said, holding the sweater loosely in one hand. “I don’t believe you’ve earned it.”

Angel stared at him. “What…?”

Valentino suddenly leaned over him, pinning him against the back of the chaise with two hands and getting in his face. “You have been a very disobedient pet,” he hissed, baring his teeth, as Angel pressed himself back into the cushion as far as he could. “I should beat you until you can’t move, maybe remove those arms of yours, and deal with Alastor myself if he bothers to come after you. But I think it is so much more… poetic, for you to be the one to slaughter him, don’t you? So, you have the opportunity to save yourself from what I should do.”

“…whaddya want…?”

Valentino’s fourth hand came up to Angel’s face, pad of his index finger pressing into the underside of Angel’s chin. “You are going to make love to me, Angel Dust,” he murmured. “You aren’t going to just lay there and let me fuck you. No, you are going to be an enthusiastic participant as I wipe away every trace of Alastor’s infection from your lovely form.”

Angel’s eyes were wide as he whispered, “Fuck you, Val.”

Valentino didn’t slap Angel; he struck him in the side of the head with the heel of his hand, knocking him off the chaise and onto the floor. Angel cried out in pain, a sound that turned to a scream as Valentino bore down on him and seized one of his arms, pulling it sharply backwards and threatening to pull it out of socket. “What the fuck did you just say to me?!”

The pain in Angel’s shoulder increased until he was certain that Val would simply rip the limb off. “Val! Stop, please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Val!!”

Valentino pulled just a little further, then released him, instead seizing him by his hair and throwing him back onto the chaise. Angel immediately curled up in the corner, shielding his head and face. “I am going to give you one more opportunity to answer,” Valentino hissed. “And you should choose your words. Very. Carefully.”

I’m sorry, Alastor.

“O…okay, Val.”

If you care, I’m so, so sorry.

“I’ll do wh-whatever you want. I’ll be good. I promise.”

I’m sorry even if you don’t care.

An hour later, Valentino tossed the sweater onto Angel, who pulled it on as quickly as his aching body would permit. He had done so many disgusting things in his career, but he had never felt so… dirty and defiled as he did watching Valentino place a cigarette in its holder and light it. Even though it was Valentino’s, Angel curled up into it, watching the overlord get to his feet.

“You should try to sleep, amorcito,” Valentino said, carelessly casting the words over his shoulder as he adjusted the clothing he hadn’t even bothered to remove. “I have business to tend to.”

Angel didn’t respond, just watching in silence as Valentino swept from the room, already retrieving his phone from his coat pocket. The moment he was gone, Angel threw himself face down onto the chaise, gritting his teeth against the urge to break down. He couldn’t, not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, but it had to have been only a few minutes before he heard the door open again. He startled upwards, but it wasn’t Valentino returning.

“I’m almost surprised you’re conscious,” Vox said with a careless disdain as the door slid shut behind him. He was carrying a glass bottle, and Angel thought he looked very odd in casual clothes instead of one of his usual suits.

Angel folded two of his arms on the arm of the chaise, half burying his face in them and only raising his head enough to peer at Vox over them. “What do you want?” he asked in a raw voice.

“So very rude to your master’s guests,” Vox said sarcastically, walking over to stand over him. He smirked at Angel’s lack of reaction, and Angel wondered if the overlord believed him to be defeated. “I brought this for you. Drink it.”

“What is it?”

“You need your strength,” was Vox’s only patronizing explanation.

Angel narrowed his eyes, but raised one hand, taking it from Vox. It wouldn’t make sense for Vox to be poisoning him or anything like that, because they both knew Vox wanted the enjoyment of watching Alastor kill Angel himself. It smelled awful, but Angel kept his gaze on Vox’s, refusing to react as he drank the full contents of the bottle. It was thick and slimy, oddly cold, and the taste was… foul, like dirty pennies and chlorinated water. He nearly gagged more than once, but managed to keep it down, slapping the bottle back into Vox’s expectant palm and settling back down into the little cove of his own arms.

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Vox asked. “It will speed up your natural regenerative healing. You should be feeling much better tomorrow morning.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh,” he said, looking back at Angel. “By the way… in case you’re contemplating attempting to flee. We’ve discerned which room in that hotel belongs to you. If you leave the building, I’m killing your pet pig.”

Angel immediately felt like he was going to throw up, clenching his fingers in his sweater. “…I got you,” he muttered.

“Good.”

Vox was halfway to the door when Angel spoke again. “I can’t tell.”

The overlord slowed, and by his hesitation, Angel could tell he was contemplating just ignoring him. But Vox’s curiosity was one of his weak points and always had been, so he sighed, like he was indulging Angel’s childishness. “You can’t tell what, Angel?”

“If you’re jealous of me, or simply pissy.”

Vox snorted. “What could you possibly think I would be jealous of you over?”

Angel didn’t raise his head from his arms, still peering at Vox over the folds of pink and purple fabric. “You know I’ve always been Valentino’s favorite,” he said, keeping his voice level. “And now, I’m Alastor’s favorite, too. He’s been in my bed. I’ve been in his. I even know what he tastes like, what he really feels like, and you… never will.”

The lights flickered dangerously overhead as Vox’s lip curled, his left eye widening. Angel knew that if he looked out the window, he would see more lights shuddering all over the city. He was so still, Angel wasn’t sure he was even breathing.

“I cannot wait for the day that I hear you screaming and begging for mercy in his radio chorus, and he doesn’t simply ignore you, he laughs at it.”

Angel watched Vox leave the room, wondering if he was angry that the doors were automatic and he couldn’t slam them. Vox didn’t look back at him, but he didn’t have to. Angel could tell.

I might never win one again, but I definitely won that one.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true.

He would never be Alastor’s favorite.

If he ever had been, he absolutely wouldn’t be now.

•••

[doomalade]

Hazbin Episode 2 Review

As usual, here is the swear count:

Fuck - 25

Shit - 9

Bitch/ Hoe/ Whore/ Slut/ Bimbo - 12

Damn - 1

Ass - 1

Cock/Dick - 1

Porn/Sex - 1

Tits/Boobs - 0

Pussy/Vagina/ Cunt - 0

Piss - 2

Now onto spoilers under the break!

The Good:

We got a lot more Alastor this episode and I love him so much. Getting to see how he uses his dark magic, completely wiping the floor with Pentius and not even paying him the time of day to acknowledge him. Alastor’s cruel side coming out on display as he toys with Pentius before ultimately tossing him away like nothing. Really helped show that Alastor has that power like none other, like we saw in the pilot.

One thing I especially love about the scenes of Alastor and Pentius is how petty Alastor can get. How even the smallest rip of his suit coat got him so mad he let out a deer noise (which I think was a neat touch.)

This episode ultimately is just an introduction to the V’s but Alastor steals the spotlight. How you really can tell that he hates the V’s, and especially Vox.

Speaking of who had hypnotic powers (and so does Pentius seemingly) and it would be interesting to explore that more.

Ultimately you really get the sense that the V’s are the outcasts of the Overlords because they’re just total jerks all together, and not so much that they’re powerful like Alastor is. Also Status Quo had a good song transition both start and finish and is a pretty alright song.

Seeing how creepy Alastor got at the end was also a blessing.

Other than that?

I still love Nifty and how she got upset at Pentius trying to be a better person and also we got to see Fat Nuggets. So hurray!

Okay now onto

The Bad:

The overall pacing of this episode was kinda weird? Like it starts off with Pentius, then moves onto the V’s, and then back to Pentius and for the V introduction episode, it felt like that they didn’t get much screen time.

A few minutes on their own, Velvette barely getting any, Val being there only like 3 times, and Vox basically gets his butt kicked around by Alastor without much tension.

I really do wish that there was more of a power balance thing going on and I know that’s kinda weird to say given how Helluva arguably was pretty forward on the pecking order. Imagine three Overlords all having powers near equal to Alastor, that would raise the stakes as it leaves Charlie and Alastor basically being the two between the V’s and the destruction of the hotel.

Ultimately the V’s feel like Overlords only by title and not by actuality. The bark is there but no bite.

As for Pentius? Meh. His little story was alright I guess, but ultimately it more served as a way to start up Angel character development. I know I’ve thrown around the term “- is the Jaune Arc of this show” before and I want to explain that.

You know how James Gunn made Rocket the secret protagonist of the Guardian films? Take that idea and make it bad and add in a dash of misogyny if called for.

I am deeply afraid that Angel will be taking up more screen time than Charlie and will ultimately take over her spot as the protagonist. Which begs the question, why wasn’t Angel just made the protagonist up right?

Charlie is being woobified as is the case with most Viv characters, and now Angel’s focus is increasing. I got the same vibe from Fizz taking the protagonist role from Bitzø in Helluva.

Other than that? It becomes very apparent that this episode was written by Viv given the 25 fucks said during this episode, the most this far in the series. (Spoilers: E4 takes the cake for the most with 35.) Most of those fucks are spoken by Val’s brief first appearance before Status Quo. To call it excessive would be accurate.

Also let me not forget that I only count the spoken swears, and not the ones only shown. If I did, 25 would have become 30 in one frame during Vox’s news segment during the song.

Also during said segment, there is another Blitzø style drawing, which might only be irking me and no one else.

As for the song itself? I think the only downsides would be that Alastor singing about how older technology and ways of doing things are better than the new, uses terms such as “clout”, “podcast”, and “that’s the tea.”

Is this a nitpick? Sure. Does it only slightly exist out of the reasonability of Alastor’s character and how he acts and thinks? Sure. Does it still bother me like mad and make me point to it as a casual example of Viv not really knowing what she is doing with characters? Yes.

So ultimately this episode was like a 5/10. Idk, it exists I guess.

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Have you listened to The Adventure Zone podcast? Specifically the Balance Arc. If you haven't there are certain bits of information that have been wiped from the characters memories and if someone tries to talk to them about it all they hear is static.

So now I'm thinking what if Alastor managed to sort of lock some of Vox's memories? Things like, Alastor did in fact torture him, the memory of that isn't gone, and Velvette is able to get it when pulling other memory files, but Vox sure can't access it. Some of the locked memories are things like that, the more traumatic stuff. But also Alastor's a petty bitch, and if he had the ability to mess with specific memories I absolutely think he would delete anything embarrassing for him, random friends from Vox's early days in hell, things that define his relationship with the Vees...

Someone asks Vox a question about his past and he goes to answer, gets two words in, and his entire face turns to static. After a moment, he cuts back in and finishes a different sentence like nothing happened. He has no idea he does this, and if people try to point it out it just won't stick. He gets distressed about it for like 10 seconds then moves on and forgets all about it.

(I hope this makes sense, it's past my bedtime)

No, I haven't listened to it, but that makes sense!

I've kind of been alluding to that sort of thing these past few [indeterminate period of time], although more in the sense that Vox simply cannot absorb information he's not "allowed" to, like the stuff about Alastor or the Vees. He'll hear it, but immediately go "No, that's not right" and just move on (and will get REALLY agitated if you keep pressing the matter). Kind of like an NPC with a dead-end dialogue option, I guess. The static idea is cool though. I'd like to incorporate more glitchiness into his behavior in general tbh.

[the-grand-av3]

What's something you hate about the other AV3 members?

I dislike Vox's persistence when it comes to doing things I don't want to do. Yes, they turn out well in the end, but it is rather annoying to have a little animal biting your tail everywhere. Valentino is a perverted man who doesn't understand I have no interest in his eroticism. Velvette has terrible phone call etiquette.

Why do I have the explanation?! Fine! Alastor’s a stuck up asshole who doesn't listen like the petty bitch he is, and he won't loosen up and get that pole out of his ass. Valentino keeps flirting with Al-- Like, he does it with everyone sure, but Alastor’s... Velvette keeps making fun of me for some weird "crush" I have on Alastor which is stupid, I mean, what? Crush on Alastor?

I love all of the AV3 equally, baby~ There’s nothing I could ever hate about them, there's too much to love.. But if Alastor keeps getting Angel attached to him I might have to kill a bitch..

Alastor’s old, Vox is old and an idiot, Valentino is old, an idiot, and he keeps staring at the lights when it's night, you know how fuckin weird it is to see a 9 foot man standing in front of your nightlight at 4am?

[lordofhunger47]

Hazbin Hotel has ruined Helluva Boss:

Honesty? Hazbin Hotel has ruined Helluva Boss for me.

I mean, it is hard to correspond both show when they are so different.

Helluva Boss cast are petty manchildren who mass murder for fun while Hazbins at least try to be good and the show never condumn any horrible act there, oh sure Alastor is a main character and villainous but the show never tried to justify him with some sob story and repeatedly reminded the watchers that Alastor is evil.

It's like if there was a Rick and Morty spin off but the main characters weren't dysfunctional manchildren who commit many downright immoral stuffs in an episodic basis and the show didn't surgercoat anything that is immoralistically disgusting and treat it humorously.

I mean heck, Adam and Lute are basically Blitz and Loona!

Blitz/Adam: massive pricks who think they are entitled to everything and are assholic because they think they are funny.

Loona/Lute: white haired callous bitches who hang with an asshole.

Blitz and Loona with IMP kill humans for money but honesty? Money is just an excuse because they find it entertaining and killed for pettiest of reasons(killing a fuckton of people over a parking spot anyone?) like Adam, Lute and the Exorcists using the potential of Hell's rebellion as an excuse to kill for fun and hell they even admitted that shamelessly in a song and they see Sinners/Humans as inferior nothing but cattles to slaughter.

Oh sure, Blitz and Loona have a sob origin story but excuse me if I'm not crying a river and it doesn't change the fact that they and IMP are no better than the Exorcists.

I don't know if this was intentional but let's be honest, IMP are mercs who kill humans for money and in a lot of case for even less(like again for a fucking parking spot!) and IMP if they were in Hazbin Hotel would have been villains.

[irkimatsu]

Caught up on Hazbin Hotel! It's a fun ride! I don't have nearly enough words for it - there's someone in my circle way, way better at that when it comes to this - but I did want to ramble a little bit:

-Charlie. CHARLIE. I am about 60% here for Charlie. You could have told me nothing about this show besides "the Princess of Hell is basically a shoujo protagonist" and you would have gotten me from there. Is my love for Charlie proof of my namby-pamby hippie ways of love and kindness and forgiveness? Probably! But it's fine. I love Charlie. I want to know her dreams of redemption are possible. (Sometimes I really need to know that you really can be redeemed no matter how badly you've fucked up...)

-I'm also really loving Husk. How much is the personality and how much is the character design? No clue. (I'm a furry, baby~) He's a good straight man, though, and someone that most of this hotel's residents are gonna need, especially Angel. Glad I'm not the only one on the Husk/Angel train, looking forward to where that's going

-Sir Pentious is a pathetic baby man and I love pathetic baby men. (My main fandom is still an anime about six pathetic baby men, after all.) While there's other characters I care more about as a whole, I fully expect to be laughing my shit off every time this guy's on screen. Idiot. <3

-God damn the music is good, just as I expected after years of Helluva Boss. Standouts so far are "Poison" (obviously, even though that scene fucking hurt to watch - which isn't a complaint, it did what it was supposed to); "Stayed Gone" (Vox is such a petty bitch and damn do I see why a friend of mine favors Alastor, he's effective as hell); and "Loser Baby" (maybe because I literally just watched it and boarded the Husk/Angel train, but hey, it was fun, and a desperately needed cleanser after "Poison". You know "Poison" was rough when a cheerful song about how much your lives suck is a cleanser.) There hasn't been a dud yet, though! Gonna have to loop the soundtrack to commit everything to memory, though that might wait until the whole season's out. Don't want to not give later songs a fair shake because I was too busy looping the earlier ones.

-If I have to complain a little, I do admit to being lost on some things, and I don't know how much of that is "I'm supposed to be lost, they'll explain later", "I'm dumb and didn't absorb things properly", or "that was explained in side materials". I hope most of it is those first two and not the third - side materials are fun, but I do think the show should be able to stand on its own. Even with the pilot - is that on Amazon? I don't know because I watched the show, um, elsewhere. I have my doubts about it, though, since so much changed between the pilot and the main show, as it tends to happen with pilots. If it's not, that does feel like a bit of a problem, since I think this show has its best chance of success if someone sees it turns up in their recommended section, knows nothing about it but thinks it looks cool, and tunes in there. Treats for the dedicated fans are great, but continuity lockout makes it hard for newbies to care, and I'd rather this didn't turn into "well you're not a real fan because you didn't read all the side comics and blog posts". No elitism, please! Let people who don't live on the Internet enjoy the funny demon show, too!

-Twitter is annoying and my engagement with this show in public will probably be slim-to-zero because this show's hatedom is one of the most obnoxious I've seen in a long time. It's fine to hate the show, obviously, but god, all the reaching for straws to prove that everyone who watches this show is evil and supports all the crime in the world. It's okay, you don't have to like the violent Hell show where people say fuck. It's not for everyone. You don't need to prove you're better than everyone else for not liking it. It's fine, love, it's fine. Of course there's stuff to criticize, every show can be critiqued, but "it's gross for Niffty to make sex jokes because she's tiny"? Go away with that shit.

I hope at least some of this was coherent. Looking forward to more!

[land-of-sinners]

A little spiteful? But indulgent fun, M/mzy fawning over the deer boy and maybe gushing about him to your s/i saying how she can win him over and eventually he does say he’s been having a lovely lady on the mind. Imagine the look on her face when it’s your s/i he’s been yearning for all this time and your happy pleased face

okay but why am I low-key living for this? I'm a petty bitch that's why-

actually, imma let you guys in on something; as of right now, Serenity and Mimzy do have a bit of a rivalry, but here's the twist: it has absolutely nothing to do with Alastor!

They're styles just clash the moment they meet (literally the first thing Mimzy says to Serenity is insult her for her choice in clothing), Serenity tried to be nice but Mimzy brushed her aside as she doesn't like modern sinners at all, constantly referring to them as have no class whatsoever. And Serenity, being the definition of 'self-respect is the best form of spite', goes out of her way to just exist around Mimzy and piss her off.

so when serenity and alastor DO start dating its the biggest middle finger-

[snarkybluechristian]

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 21

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Vaggie waited until the couple had walked away before she rushed into the bathroom to check on Angel.

“Angel?” Vaggie asked fearfully.  “Angel, are you alright?”

Vaggie heard Angel get up from his bed, use his crutches to hobble himself into the bathroom, and sit down against the wall.

“I’m better now,” Angel said between ragged breaths from the other side of the wall.  “I can sit on my ass again, so at least, that’s something.”

Vaggie sighed sadly and said, “Angel, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine, baby girl,” Angel interrupted reassuringly.  “It’s not your fault.  Besides, I’m used to the pain.  You know that.”

Vaggie smiled sadly.  She knew Angel was staying strong for her.  He had much more inner strength than she ever realized…

“Angel?” Vaggie asked nervously.  “What did Rosie do to make you scream?”

“If you must know, that slut grinded herself against my crotch,” Angel said audibly shuddering.  “It made me feel agonizing pain.”

“That bitch,” Vaggie snarled angrily.  “I hate her so much.  She spent the better part of the day literally lecturing me about etiquette and how I needed to follow all these 100-year-old rules to be Alastor’s perfect trophy wife.”

“Oh, God,” Angel replied.  “That sounds awful.  How did you take it?”

Vaggie scoffed and said, “Not very well.  I know.  Big surprise, right?  I’ve been pushing Rosie’s patience all day.  She and Alastor punished you in the most painful way imaginable just because I said something about Alastor she didn’t like when we went shopping for dresses.  I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it.  She insulted Charlie.”

“I don’t blame ya,” Angel replied.

“Before that, Rosie made sit through a boring lunch and the same boring lecture twice in a row…” Vaggie ranted.

“Wait, twice in a row?” Angel asked confusedly.

“I drew an offensive doodle of Rosie instead of listening to her lecture the first time through,” Vaggie admitted.  “That’s probably why they made sure to make sure to make your punishment more painful…”

To Vaggie’s surprise, Angel started laughing.  He laughed for a good minute eventually pushing Vaggie to begin giggling herself.

“Oh, my God!” Angel said finally taking a breath.  “That’s hilarious, doll.  I can just imagine that look on that bitch’s face.  Tell me.  Was she pissed?”

“Absolutely livid,” Vaggie said.

“Oh, man,” Angel said.  “I wish I could see it for myself.”

Vaggie’s eye then noticed the old-fashioned vent on the ground.  She got on her knees to look at it, and as she examined it, she got an idea.

Vaggie picked up the vent grating, set it aside, and looked into the shaft. It looked like it also connected to Angel's room, so out of curiosity, she reached her arm down and to the right as far as she could.

“Vaggie, what are you doing?” Angel asked.  

“Angel, look into the shaft of your vent,” Vaggie said.  “Do you see my hand?”

Angel looked down into the vent shaft and saw Vaggie’s waving hand.

“Yeah, I see it,” Angel replied.  “What are you doing?”

Vaggie smiled and said, “Wait a second.”

She stood up, ran back to her room, grabbed the notebook off the dresser, and headed back into the bathroom.

Vaggie then tore her drawing of Rosie out of her notebook, wadded it into a ball, and stuck it into the vent making sure to roll the wadded-up ball as close to Angel as possible.

“Angel, I sent you something,” Vaggie said.  “Check it out.”

Angel opened the vent on his side, leaned over with his one good arm, picked up the crumpled paper ball, unfolded it, and started laughing hysterically.

Vaggie chuckled with him and asked, “You like it?”

“Vags,” Angel said.  “This is absolute gold!”

“Well, I had to do something to stay awake,” Vaggie said laying back against the wall.  “That lecture was so goddamn boring!  You should have heard the nonsense she was spouting then and while she made me try on all those old clothes at the store.”

“Did you take any real notes, babe?” Angel asked.

“Yeah, do you wanna hear Rosie’s bullshit etiquette advice?” Vaggie asked with a smile in her voice.  

“Fuck yeah,” Angel said.  “It ain’t like we have anything better to do.”

Vaggie picked up her notebook, turned the page to her notes, and read out loud in as posh a tone as she could muster, “Shoulders back, feet flat on the ground, back straight…”

“It sounds like she said that a lot,” Angel interrupted.

“You have no idea,” Vaggie said making her aggravation clear through her voice.

“Oh, do tell me more,” Angel teased.

“Maintain your beauty and your personal appearance to your husband’s taste,” Vaggie read.  “As a wife, you owe it to your husband to remain pleasing to him to retain his respect and his love.”

“Jesus Christ,” Angel muttered with a chuckle.  “Are you his wife or his employee?”

“That’s what I said,” Vaggie retorted.

“Keep going,” Angel goaded.  

“A lady doesn’t eat like an animal,” Vaggie continued reading.  “She uses her cutlery and her manners.”

“Fair point,” Angel replied.  “Fair point, but you don't eat like an animal anyway.  Why the hell does she need to teach you that?”

“I don’t know,” Vaggie said in frustration.  “She yelled at me for not properly introducing myself as Alastor's fiancée.  “God!  You should have heard her lecture me on modesty!”

Angel scoffed and said, “You?  Modest?  Was she serious?”

“She was dead fucking serious,” Vaggie replied with a groan before she read from her notebook again.  “‘Ladies do not use profanity.  It is unbecoming.  Do not raise your voice unless you're spoken to and given permission by your husband.  Do not make your feelings known.  It is a mark of good breeding to suppress undue emotion, whether of disappointment, of mortification, or laughter, of anger, or of selfishness in any form.  Do not make any vulgar comments. Don't laugh too loud...’  Oh, my God!”

“That shoulda killed ya,” Angel said.  

“It almost did,” Vaggie replied.  “I had to stay calm or Alastor would have made me watch his familiars hurt you again.  No, the shopping is what killed me.  She only let me pick out these old ass dresses from the ‘30s…No offense.”

Angel cackled and said, “None taken.”

“I wanted another dress, but she ripped it away from me because of Alastor’s dress code,” Vaggie continued sadly.  “God, I couldn’t believe it.  It’s something that seems so petty, but it was so humiliating.  It was like I wasn’t even a person.  It’s hard to explain...”

“It’s like you only existed to be someone else’s object?  Like you didn’t have a will of your own?  Like your only purpose was to please an asshole you don’t even care about?” Angel replied with unexpected sorrow behind his voice.

Vaggie fell silent.

“Believe me, babe,” Angel continued.  “I know exactly how you feel.  That was my whole fucking life.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, my father was the same.  He had a rule for everything.  I was a son of the don.  I had no choice.  I lied about being the firstborn son earlier, but I still had a role I had to play and hated every minute of it.  I had to be fucking perfect for his goddamn mob, and he hated me when he realized I wasn’t his perfect son like Arackniss was.  That I was a fag.  He tried to change me.  My mother kept him back until she died.  God rest her soul.  But then, he went into overdrive.  He poured all his hatred into my big turd of a brother and made him hate me, too.  The two of them did all they could to control my life.  The only one I could talk to was Molly, but she was losing her mind.  I was too until that night I overdosed.  I tried to do all he asked, but not a fucking thing I did was ever good enough for him.”

“Oh, my God.  Angel, I had no idea.”

“I don’t exactly like to talk about it.  Why do you think I’m strung up most of the time?  It’s funny.  I’ve stayed away from both their asses for the past 73 years only for me to become the property of another no-good motherfucker…”

“Valentino?”

Angel paused with a sad smile and said, “You really do know everything.”

“You are the most popular porn star in all of Hell,” Vaggie said.

“More like the most popular prostitute and slave to the most powerful pimp,” Angel said with a scoff.  “God, you think I would have figured it out after the first time.  I’ve fucked up enough for both lifetimes.  I’ll be much happier when I’m in heaven with my ma, finally on good terms with God, and have a dimension separating me and all those other fuckers.”

Vaggie remained quiet for a moment before flipping to a blank page, writing on the blank page, tearing it out, folding it up, and slipping the slip of paper to Angel through the vent.

Angel reached into the vent, picked up the piece of paper, and read: “Charlie and your mother would be so proud of you.”

Angel smiled and felt an unexpected tear come to his eye as he said, “I love you too, Vaggie.”

Just then, Vaggie heard a door open and the sound of a cart being pushed in.

“Angel?!” Vaggie asked nervously.

“There’s nothing on my end, babe,” Angel said.  “It’s on yours.  Just stay right here next to me.”

Vaggie sat next to the wall nervously.  But just as soon as the cart rolled in, the noise stopped, and the door shut and locked again.  

“It’s gone,” Vaggie said.  “But I need to investigate.”

“Vaggie, I’d rather you didn’t,” Angel pleaded.  

Vaggie stood up and said, “I have to get out of this bathroom eventually.  Besides, I think I know what it is.”

Before Angel could protest, Vaggie exited the bathroom and saw the cart before her.  It was just a simple dinner cart with a large bottle of water and a plate of food covered by a silver lid.  She lifted the tray and saw a dinner plate of Southern comfort food.  Fried chicken, fried okra, green beans, and macaroni and cheese.

“What?!” Angel exclaimed in surprise.

“What is it?” Vaggie asked anxiously as she picked up her tray and carried it to the bathroom.

“Another smoothie like the one Alastor drugged me with earlier just appeared out of nowhere,” Angel said.  “Must be my dinner.”

“Dinner?” Vaggie said angrily.  “Alastor gave me a tray of food.  Why isn’t he giving you anything to eat?”

Angel scoffed and said, “Isn’t it obvious, doll?  Alastor has me on a liquid diet.  He’s trying to starve me to make me weaker and more compliant.  I know it.  Valentino has used this method of torture on me before.”

Vaggie furrowed her brow and said, “Wait a second.”

Angel complied setting his smoothie down on top of the toilet lid as he settled back in his spot.  

Angel then heard the sound of another paper ball being rolled in his direction through the vent.  He looked down into the vent, picked up the ball, and unwrapped the paper to find a fried chicken drumstick.  

Without a second’s hesitation, Angel scarfed down the chicken until the bone was picked clean.

“Thanks, Vaggie,” Angel said.

“There’s more where that came from,” Vaggie said crumpling up more paper balls of food for Angel.  “But you need to give me back the bone first.”

“Why?” Angel asked confusedly.

“So that Alastor doesn’t suspect anything because of a missing bone,” Vaggie replied.

Angel smiled, rolled the bone back into the paper, rolled it back to Vaggie in the vent, and said, “You’re quite the clever bitch.  I underestimated ya.”

“Well, you don’t survive being a prostitute in the slums of El Salvador by being stupid,” Vaggie said picking up the paper ball with the bone and rolling some okra in a paper ball back to Angel.

“So, you really were a whore, huh?” Angel said picking up the paper ball and unwrapping it to find okra inside.  “I’m sorry.  I just can’t imagine you letting any douchebag do you for money.”

“I was a very different person six years ago.  I’m not exactly proud of it,” Vaggie said preparing more paper balls for Angel.  “Make sure you leave no trash.  I don’t wanna imagine what Alastor and Rosie would do should they find out about any of this.”

“Gotcha,” Angel said.  “Just like dumping a stash of drugs in the old days.”

Angel scarfed down his food, threw the paper in the toilet, used toilet paper to sweep up any crumbs that were left, threw that away, and flushed the toilet.

“Good work,” Vaggie said as she finished rolling the last paper ball of food.  “I’m almost done rolling all the paper balls.  Get ready.”  

“Thanks,” Angel said.  “And for the record, I was a very different person too about 73 years ago.”

After doing some quick math, Vaggie replied, “1947?”

“Yep,” Angel replied.  “2014?”

“Yes,” Vaggie said opening the vent to roll all the paper balls to Angel.  “Get ready, Angel.  I’m sending the food over now.”

“You’re a saint, Vaggie,” Angel said.  “I don’t know how to thank ya.”

“Keep recovering until we can escape,” Vaggie replied rolling the paper balls through the vent.  “That’ll be thanks enough.  That, and maybe, start taking your redemption work at the hotel more seriously.”

Angel scoffed as he picked up all his paper balls and said, “I tracked you down here, got captured trying to save you, and still insisted on not leaving without you even though I was given the chance to escape.  Doesn’t that count for anything?”

Vaggie paused for a moment as she settled in on her side to eat her half of the food before she replied, “You know what?  I think you’re right.  You just might be closer to repentance than I thought.”

“Awww, what a sincere compliment,” Angel retorted facetiously.  “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Vaggie replied sarcastically prompting Angel to chuckle to himself before they both returned to eating her food.

The pair ate in silence until all the food was devoured and Angel had properly cleaned up his side and re-covered his vent.

When they were done, Angel asked, “Did you get enough to eat, babe?”

“Yeah,” Vaggie replied placing the last of the bones on her plate and covering the vent.  “Don’t worry about it.”

Vaggie stood up, exited the bathroom, and replaced the platter on the cart.  As soon as she did, the cart magically sped away.  The door opened by itself to let it out, then locked itself again once the cart was gone.

Vaggie sighed as she sat on the bed to figure out what to do next.  That was when she noticed the book The Taming of the Shrew sitting on the vanity.  Not having anything better to do, Vaggie picked up the book and carried it to the bathroom.

“Guess what I found on my vanity?” Vaggie asked.

“The Taming of the Shrew?” Angel asked.

“Yep,” Vaggie replied unenthusiastically.  “I must have held on to it when Rosie was dragging me up here.”

“That, or Alastor is being about as subtle as a bat to the face,” Angel replied with a scoff.

Vaggie snorted and replied, “No kidding.  Do you want me to read it to you this time?”

“Sure, I don’t mind hearing it,” Angel replied standing up.  “I can translate the bits you don’t understand.  Just wait a moment for me to grab my pillow and blankets.  Sitting on this floor is murder.”

“Alright,” Vaggie replied standing up and heading into her room to do the same thing.  

Vaggie grabbed her blankets and pillows and set up a bed on the floor right next to the vent.  

When she turned away to brush her teeth, Angel asked, “What are you doing, babe?”

“I made a bed, so I could sleep closer to you,” Vaggie said picking up her toothbrush and turning on and off the sink to make it wet before she put on the toothpaste.

“Awww, you do have a soft side,” Angel gushed.

“Shut up,” Vaggie said turning away to brush her teeth amidst Angel’s chuckles.  

When Vaggie was done, she shut off the light and settled into her bed.  Angel did the same in his while Vaggie began reading the play from the last place they had left off.