#angel wants ta lead but hes a bit impulsive

[spaciebabie]

funnily enough, he's kind of right.

[sevensstories]

I Thought I Knew You Chapter 3: Day 1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Angel Dust, Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Husker, Niffty, Cherri Bomb, Fat Nuggetz Ships: Radiodust slowburn Updates: Maybe every Thursday depending on my schedule Warnings: Alcohol mention, drug mention, mature content, mature language

Chapter 1: House Arrest Chapter 2: Contraband  Chapter 3: Day 1 You Are Here Chapter 4: Day 2

Read it on AO3, or just read under the cut!

Angel Dust once again found himself in the dining hall, glaring at the demon sitting across from him. He drummed his fingers against the tabletop as he studied that ever-present smile. He knew it was Alastor who raided his room. He knew it. But what the hell could he do about it?

He couldn’t confront him, that would be admitting he had the stuff in the first place. The last thing he needed was Charlie finding out. Even if he confronted Alastor in private, more than likely that would lead to a very dead Angel Dust. If he could help it, he really preferred staying alive. Or, well, undead. He would consider retaliation, but he didn’t need other things he owned being taken because they were deemed a “bad influence”, or whatever else Alastor came up with to make his life more miserable than it already was. Knowing him, he would somehow make up an excuse to take Fat Nuggetz, and Angel Dust didn’t think he’d be able to cope with that one. So, short answer, he couldn’t do a damn thing.

God fucking damn it.

“Is everything okay, Angel Dust?”

The concern in Charlie’s tone snapped Angel Dust from his thoughts. He glanced up, met with a worried expression. He sighed and straightened up, setting his fork down on his plate. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not hungry.”

Angel Dust didn’t miss the way Alastor’s smile widened just a notch and his eyes narrowed. “Oh but, Angel Dust, you’ve hardly touched your breakfast! Did you have a… rough night?”

Angel Dust felt fury bubble up in his stomach. Of course, of course the cheeky bastard would openly taunt him, because Alastor was well aware that there wasn’t a damn thing Angel Dust could do about it. However, after a second’s pause, a slow, easy smirk replaced his glare. Or was there? Angel Dust leaned his elbows against the table and rested his chin in his hands, making sure his chest was extra fluffed and in full view. His voice came as a low purr, his eyes half-lidded in a way he knew made other demons just melt. “Sure did, sugar. What, did’ya feel me thinkin’ ‘bout ya?”

Oh, how the tables turned. Alastors sadistic grin quickly faded, replaced with a nervous smile. “I, aehm… p-pardon?”

“You heard me, baby,” Angel practically moaned, shimmying his shoulders a bit and batting his eyelashes. “I mean, if you’re curious, you can always join me, I’d be happy to have the company.”

“I-I don’t, um…” There it was, damn it was too easy sometimes. One suggestive comment and that tough guy act just crumbled away. Whatever Alastor came up with as retaliation later, this was more than worth it.

“Angel Dust!” His attention snapped to Vaggie, who did not look happy with his little display. Her arms were crossed and she had a glare like she was trying to burn holes through his forehead. 

Knowing Vaggie and how much she disliked Angel Dust, she probably was.

“You really have to do this here?” She snapped. “Some of us are trying to eat, you know.”

“Yeah, and some of us are trying to get eaten,” Angel Dust retorted. Remembering Alastor’s rumored cannibalistic tendencies, he thought better of his comment and shot a wink towards Alastor. “In the fun way, I mean.”

It would seem as if that was Alastor’s last straw. He stood abruptly, almost knocking his chair backwards. His voice was filled with static and had a slightly panicked tone that was music to Angel Dust’s ears. “Would you look at the time! I have a… thing to do. Yes, a thing! Goodbye.” He was gone before anyone could stop him, not that anyone wanted to try.

“Wow, that’s gotta be his weakest excuse yet,” Angel Dust mused, examining the claws on one of his hands. “I think I’m actually getting better at this, and I didn’t even think that was possible.”

“You’re supposed to be becoming a better person,” Vaggie grumbled, standing and picking up her plate. “I’ve lost my appetite.

“Hey, two for one! Look at me go,” Angel dust grinned, clearly way to proud of himself. Even Charlie gave a somewhat exasperated sigh. 

“Angel Dust, I know you’re upset about being under house arrest, but do you really have to retaliate?” Angel Dust chose to ignore the soft pang of guilt he felt at the disappointment in Charlie’s tone.

“Who said I was retaliating?” He huffed, crossing his arms and slouching back in his chair. “Gotta entertain myself somehow, considering I’m not even allowed to go outside.”

Charlie frowned, studying Angel Dust for a moment before speaking. “I know this isn’t going to be easy, but it really is for your own good. We wouldn’t be doing it if we didn’t think it would honestly help in your redemption.”

Angel Dust almost couldn’t help the eye roll, because of course that’s what she would say. “Yeah, well maybe I don’t want to be redeemed. Didj’a ever think of that?”

“Of course you do,” Angel Dust didn’t miss the nervousness that tainter her smile. “I mean, why else would you be at the hotel? You volunteered, remember? To get better?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know.” Angel Dust stood, not bothering to pick up his untouched plate. “Maybe because this place is free? I needed a place to stay before the extermination hit, this is a place to stay that don’t charge rent. It ain’t rocket science, toots.” “I know you don’t mean that!” Charlie’s hopeful smile and the optimism in her tone were infuriating. “You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t some part of you that didn’t want to get better, and that’s exactly what we’ll help you achieve!” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. I’m going to my room.” Angel Dust didn’t give her a chance to respond before he walked off in a huff.  Who did she think she was? As if he’d ever actually fall for her little redemption scam. There was no way even she believed that bullshit. But, hey, who was he to tell her how to live her life. He made his way back to his room. If nothing else he could just snuggle with Fat Nuggetz, the only one in this whole damn hotel who wasn’t royally getting on his nerves right now. It wasn’t until his hand rested on the doorknob that he heard the radio static. 

That god damn radio static.

“Fuck off, smiles.” He didn’t even turn to face the demon that he knew had to be standing right behind him, creepy ass motherfucker. 

“I’m just checking on you,” Alastor purred, clearly recovered from earlier. Damn that was fast. “I mean, that is my job now, after all.”

“Oh bullshit,” Angel Dust pushed his door open and walked inside. Nuggetz perked up with his return, and shrank back when he spotted Alastor. “You’re just enjoying making my life as fucked as possible and we both know it.”

Alastor hesitated before venturing inside behind Angel Dust, glancing around the now familiar room. “Nonsense, my dear! I’m simply doing what any good, ah, caretaker would do and checking in on my ward.”

“You’re not a caretaker, you’re a warden.” Angel Dust flopped over on his bed, resting his upper arms over his eyes. “Don’t try to sugarcoat what this is.”

“Oh, I would never.” Alastor’s grin widened a notch.

Angel Dust peeked out from under his arms, irritation and bitterness leaving a sour tang in his mouth. “You just let yourself right on in now, huh?”

“You could say that.” Alastor absentmindedly spun his microphone in place. “You could say I’ve already acquainted myself with your quarters.”

Oh this brazen bitch. Angel Dust didn’t exactly expect Alastor to hide it, but this was ballsy as hell. “Oh, so you admit it then?”

“Admit what? You’ll have to be more specific.” Alastor’s eyes wandered back over to Angel Dust, clearly enjoying this little game he was playing.

“You know very well what!” Angel Dust sat up with a glare. “I get takin’ the drugs and booze, whatever, it sucks but I can deal with it. But the toys?! That shit’s personal!”

“You mean the items you were in no way permitted to have?” His grin widened, once again taking on a sadistic tone. “Why, Angel Dust, I’m only doing the work I’ve been assigned. Don’t you know, you’ll never be redeemed if you’re allowed to keep such… belongings.”

“Oh, what, so you can’t even say ‘sex toys’?” Angel Dust snorted, not missing the way those words made Alastor bristle. “We both know you don’t give two shits about redemption, especially my redemption, so save the act for Charlie.”

“Regardless of my feelings about redemption, yours or otherwise, I’ve been given a job to do.” The smirk Alastor was sporting was all the more infuriating. Oh what Angel Dust wouldn’t give to punch those oversized teeth right out of his mouth. 

“You don’t care about your ‘job’,” Angel Dust made air quotations with his fingers to emphasize his point, “you just wanna make my life miserable. Well, you know what, pal? I’m already in hell, so do your worst. I don’t got nothin’ ta lose.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” Alastor’s sinister tone sent shudders down Angel Dust’s spine, and he found himself rethinking his little challenge. Maybe that wasn’t such a great idea after all.

However, he was nothing if not stubborn. “I guess we will,” he huffed, crossing both sets of arms. “But I’ll say this. I betcha you’re gonna get sick of this little charade ya got goin’ long before ya get me ta give up.”

Alastor perked in interest. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yeah, it is.” Angel Dust shifted uncomfortably, but he held his ground. He knew this was a bad idea, but damn it he was pissed and he had poor impulse control.

Alastor considered a moment, studying Angel Dust with an intensity he wasn’t used to. It took everything he had to stay still and not show Alastor how much he was doubting his own words. Far too long of a pause passed before Alastor spoke again, his demeanor far too relaxed and his grin much too sharp. “Well, then, in that case, how about a wager?”

Angel cocked a brow. “What kinda wager?”

Alastor took a step closer, leaning forward so he was closer to eye level with Angel Dust. “Oh just the kind where, if I win, you leave this little establishment. You go home, to your filthy studio, and you never come back. The kind where if I win, when I win, and I so much as see you again, I’ll be sure to see to it that ‘Angel Dust’ is never heard from again.”

Angel Dust felt his heart stop for a moment. Leave the hotel? He was here for a reason, and it wasn’t exactly by choice. He doubted he would actually be able to stay in the studio after what he had pulled, and even if he could Valentino was sure to make his life far worse than Alastor ever could. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach. On the other hand…

He was no stranger to deals, and he could get this to work in his favor.

Angel Dust put on a cocky grin to match Alastor’s, masking his own doubts. “Ya know what? You’re on, baby. But what do I get if I win?”

Alastor paused and drew back, considering. “Hm. I suppose I hadn’t thought of that, not that it will matter in the end. What is it that you’d want?”

Angel Dust considered a moment. What did he want? This was a big opportunity here, he didn’t want to waste it on a laugh. There were plenty of things that he could ask of Alastor, plenty of things that would make him squirm and be oh so satisfying to watch, but nothing that would benefit him in the long run. His mis-matched eyes widened when something came to mind. No, scratch that, there was one thing he could ask for. One thing that would solve all of his problems, if he could just hold out for the next month. 

He looked up at Alastor, newfound determination igniting his features. “Buy my contract from Valentino.”

Alastor visibly faltered, his eyes widening in shock. “...pardon?”

Okay, this was good. He threw Alastor off his rhythm, this could work. “You heard me. If I win, when I win, I want you to buy my contract.” He mimicked Alastor’s words in a faux display of confidence he prayed Alastor couldn’t see through. 

Alastor blinked away his shock and his wide grin masked anything else he may have felt. “Oh, is that all? Well that’s easy enough! Not that it will matter, you won’t be winning this little bet of ours.” Alastor offered his hand, a green glow emanating from his palm. A blast of air shot past them both from the sheer force of his power, and Angel Dust felt uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach like a rock. Alastor, on the other hand, looked nothing but confident. Excited, even, like a predator primed to go in for the kill. Like he knew he had won. “So, do we have a deal?”

This was a bad idea.

Angel Dust hesitated just a moment before taking the hand and giving it a firm shake. “Deal.”

A burning sensation traveled from their conjoined hands up his arm, all the way to the side of his neck where it stuck like a pin. Angel Dust couldn’t help his wince, and he didn’t miss the way Alastor’s grin darkened.

This was a really, really bad idea.

And in an instant it was over. Angel Dust was left standing at a loss, whereas Alastor was already making his way to the door. “Wonderful! Just wonderful, pleasure doing business with you my good fellow! Now that that’s settled, I must be on my way.” Alastor opened the door and stepped through, offering Angel Dust one final glance that made his fur stand on end. “Until next time!” And with that, Alastor disappeared into the hallway. 

Angel Dust just stood there, trying to process what had just happened. How much of a mistake was this going to be? What were his chances of even winning? He had never gone through withdrawal before, but he was sure it was going to be a bitch. Could he really hold out for an entire month?

Then again, when his thoughts drifted to what Valentino would do to him if he ever dared to go crawling back to the studio, he realized he didn’t have much of a choice.

He was stuck with this deal, whether he liked it or not.

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Damstache - An Unexpected Meeting

A rarepair, I know. For some reason, I had a sudden urge to write this ship between Damien and Wilford before work. Since I normally write Damien in a modern setting, it would be easier for them to meet! Now that I have time, I’m gonna give it a whirl.

Ship name taken onboard from this wonderful piece.

-

A case of mistaken identity leads Wilford to start talking to a stranger. But as it turns out, it might be exactly who he was looking for.

Word count: 1,500

-

Wilford had been on an errand of some sort. At least, he thought he had. He had left the studio set on a mission to do something, but by the time he reached the park gates, he had completely forgotten what he was supposed to do. Apparently, it was going to be one of ‘those’ days. No matter. Summer was starting to turn to autumn, but there was still enough of a warmth to walk around without a coat.

So he did. Going for a stroll might give his confused brain some time to figure out what he had wanted to do originally. In the meantime, he would enjoy the peace, and claim an empty swing in the playground. The children were back at school so he could absolutely use them!

As Wilford settled on the swing, he made sure his gun was safely disarmed so he wouldn’t accidentally shoot himself in the leg (again) before beginning to swing at a decent speed. The simple back-and-forth motions allowed his mind to wander and attempt to piece the holes in the story of the day. He wasn’t worried. He forgot things all the time. Places, names, events, even the simplest of things. That’s why he normally had people like Bim on hand to help fill in the gaps.

His attempt to distract his mind was itself distracted when he caught a glimpse of someone passing the playground. It was a young man, dressed in a light grey sweater vest, white shirt, and black trousers. He was walking slowly, his eyes glued to a book, yet able to easily navigate his surroundings. The swinging slowed to a halt as Wilford rose to his feet. That looked like someone he knew.

“Hey, hey! Excuse me, sir!”

Wilford was running to the man before his brain had registered what he was doing. The man froze mid-step and turned with a look of confusion. He was sure he hadn’t dropped anything. 

That look was so familiar, yet Wilford couldn’t place it. In fact, a second glance up and down made him realise what exactly he had done on impulse.

“Are… Are you alright?” The book was closed, and worry was clear as day on the man’s face as he tilted his head slightly. Such a simple action meant that not a hair fell out of place. It was perfectly combed back. It suited him rather nicely.

“I, uh… I’m sorry.” Wilford chuckled nervously, rubbing a hand through his dark curls. “I thought ya were someone else, but I have no idea who I mistook ya fer either. Forget I said anythin’.” Normally, that would be a normal person’s cue to take the bait and leave, but apparently this man was no such thing. If anything, he put the book in a bag Wilford hadn’t noticed and frowned.

“Is something the matter? You look troubled. Would talking about it help?” The offer was a surprise, as was the other gesturing to a nearby bench to sit at. Wilford nodded and followed. “I’m certainly no expert in the field, but I can wager a guess that you’d appreciate someone to talk to.”

“It ain’t anythin’ bad, before ya get yer worries started. I’ve gotta bit of a memory thing, see. I forget things sometimes. I dunno why I came here today, nor why I called out at ya.” Wilford raised his eyebrows with a grin. “But that’s nothin’ I can’t handle. I got ta meet someone new today. Ya got a name?” The question seemed to take the man by surprise, and Wilford could tell the other was relieved (for some reason).

“I’m sure that isn’t something to be reassured by, you know. Memory issues are a serious matter. I hope whatever it was you were meant to be doing today comes back to you.” The man paused for a moment, before offering a hand with a bright smile. “My name is Damien.”

Wilford is a veteran when it comes to relationships. He has dated people from all backgrounds, slept with so many different people. Yet all of that was meaningless when he saw that smile. Never had such a simple act made his heart feel like it was made of a hundred butterflies. Would it be bold to do something to make the stranger smile again? Or find a way for this to be more than a brief encounter? Would it be too rude to ask the man out on a date? Was he even romantically interested in men? If he wasn’t, would he mind Wilford being his wingman, because this man already deserved so much happiness. He hadn’t seen a ring, so the man absolutely wasn’t married, so there had to be something Wilford could do to -

“Uh… Hello?”

“Oh! Sorry! Wilford. Wilford Warfstache.” He took the hand that was thankfully still offered and shook it warmly. Then, before he could change his mind, he brought the hands close to him, and with a simple “at yer service”, kissed the back of Damien’s hand. The brief squeeze and look of surprise spoke a thousand words, but it was the little hint of heat on his cheeks that made the action worth it. “I’m sure it ain’t my place, an’ y’ve been told this a million times, but yer real cute when ya smile like that.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to tell me that… But thank you. Your words are kind.” That smile grew softer, and those hazel eyes darted aside in what could only be embarrassment. Wilford was onto something. If he could play his cards right, he might be able to spend more time with Damien.

“C’mon, don’t start that. I mean it, y’know. I know we don’t know each other, buuut I’d like ta get ta know ya better. ‘Course, if there’s someone else on th’ scene, reject me.” It was a hard habit to break, but Doc insisted it would help if ever Wilford wanted to ‘settle down’ one day. This prompted Damien to look at Wilford with surprise.

“N-no, there isn’t anyone. I… You don’t know anything about me aside from what I look like. That’s surely not a good measure of character.” Ah. Damien was one of those men. Nothing a little reassurance wouldn’t fix!

“Ya do realise this doesn’t tie ya down, right? I’d like ta buy ya a drink in a quiet place where we can chat. If there’s more ta come, that’s great. If there isn’t, I’d still like ta be yer friend. Yer willin’ ta help a stranger. Y’ve gotta heart of gold, Damien. I’ve been told I need ta find more ‘nice’ people in th’ city, but I didn’t think I’d find an angel.” That did the trick. Immediately, Damien seemed to become somewhat shy, which had Wilford wondering how cute this man could really be. “If ya don’t want ta, just say ‘no’. I’m a big boy. I can take rejection real well, promise.” Simple words, but enough to give Damien room to back out if this was all too much. Damien’s head shot around them, as though checking for something, before returning his attention to Wilford. There was something on his mind, but it only steeled his nerves as he nodded.

“One drink, Wilford. If possible, I would prefer to go somewhere quiet where I won’t be seen.”

“Oooh, a man of secrets, eh? I like that.”

“W-what? No. I -” Damien paused, one eyebrow lifting as he asked, “Do you know anything else about me? Aside from what you’ve said in this conversation.”

“... No? Should I? Are ya some sorta criminal overlord? If ya are, I want in.” Upon seeing the shock on Damien’s face, Wilford guffawed. “I’m kiddin’! Ya look like ya don’t walk on th’ grass in case ya hurt it! Don’t worry. I can get us ta a quiet place if ya can do two things fer me.” His free hand lifted as he continued, raising one finger for each point. “One, don’t freak out. Two, let me take a small payment in return fer safe passage.” Both requests were as odd as Wilford’s getup, but he couldn’t help it. Something about the larger man brought out his curiosity. Wilford didn’t know who he was. For one evening, at least, he might be able to spend time with a stranger as a stranger and not as the Mayor. Swallowing his nerves, Damien took a deep breath.

“Deal.”

One word was enough permission for Wilford to gently pull Damien to him - had they forgotten to let go after the handshake? - and kiss him on the cheek. Before Damien could object, the two vanished into thin air, off to a bar that should not be too busy.

The man was eccentric, that was undeniable. But maybe Damien needed a little fun in his mundane life.

The stranger was not who he expected at all. But Wilford was certain it was exactly who he needed, and who he didn’t want to lose.