#but i did not expect hazbin to fucking take me by the throat and make it 10000000000x worse

[v3rm1nn]

i was literally never a big hazbin fan, i was passively interested with the pilot n kept up with helluva

but now i am white knuckled clenching my fucking desk going insane over hazbin AND NOT EVEN IN A GOOD WAY. THIS SHOW HAS SO MANY PROBLEMS N I BARELY LIKE IT N I SHOULD NOTT BE THINKING ABT IT SM. FUCKING HELL

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

.

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.��� He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot. 

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 

You chose to come back. 

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

[delusional-mushroom]

Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Autism creature reader ii

Apparently you all like this? Sorry about the long wait, school’s been kicking my ass lately.

Anyway, here’s part 2, Bon appétit

Part i | Part ii

You fell.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

All you remember was waking up to Speckle slithering on your face and- HOLY CRAP YOUR WING SHOULD NOT BEND LIKE THAT

After about 10 minutes of wallowing in your pain, you slowly got up.

Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow

You took a moment to take in the situation. Your clothes, as well as the ground beneath you, we’re stained in gold. It was hard to miss the golden blood trailing behind you too.

There was also a crater in the ground where you fell.

You see the Hazbin hotel in the distance and with the obvious attitude of “What could go wrong?” You sauntered towards the looming building

Speckle took over sight duty on the way tho. The Bright sign posts and the occasional dumpster fires rubbing salt on the metaphorical wound of your approaching melt down.

When you finally got there, you uncovered your eyes and stood outside for a few minutes before finally gathering up the courage to knock on the door.

Luckily for you, it’s Charlie who opens the door.

You exchange awkward greetings, Charlie beating around the bush of asking you the casual question of you know, why the fuck you’re in hell?

After a few seconds of staring at each other, you nervously fiddle with your thumbs

“So Uhm, I uh, fell, I guess.”

After the initial shock, concern, and confusion, Charlie welcomed you with open arms

At first, the hotel residents didn’t know what to make of you

Vaggie was pretty neutral with you, you seemed alright enough in heaven and if you weren’t gonna make a fuss neither would she.

That is, until she found you making yourself a cup of cocoa at two in the morning.

“Had a nightmare,” you mumbled when she questioned you, hand stretched towards you as if she held her spear to you throat. Did she sleep with the thing? Who knows.

She dropped her arm and took in your disheveled appearance. That seemed to check out. It seemed tonight wasn’t good for you either. “What about you?” She heard you ask drowsily.

“Nightmare.” She said. It was cold and blunt as she turned on the kettle and carelessly threw a teabag inside of a mug. ‘Best girlfriend ever’ it read in black. A gift from charlie, she smiled at the thought.

“Wanna talk about it?” You tested. This situation was more awkward than you wanted to deal with. At least the noise of the kettle in the background filled up the silence.

Vaggie turned to you, the ghost of a smile lingering on her face. Maybe tonight wasn’t so bad.

And since then you and her talked about what was bothering you. Or not. Sometimes you just sit next to each other, a cup of cocoa in both of your hands and enjoy each other’s company.

Angel found you funny

Fat nuggets 🤝 you.

Whenever Angel has to go to the studio, he leaves Fat Nuggets with you.

Whether its for you to watch the pig, or the pig to watch you, well… thats up to you.

He probably won’t open up to you about Valentino

But if he does, the stupid bald moth asshole can expect a lot of passive aggressive [special interest] themed notes that come seemingly nowhere.

Sir Pentious didn’t know what to make of you at first.

To him, you were some random child that showed up one day and could go from staring into someones soul for minutes on end without blinking, to looking like you were on the brink of tears if you hands brushed against a nope texture.

Eventually though, you ask about his inventions.

Bro had a whole “your asking about my theories? I’ve waited years for someone to ask me about my theories!” Moment.

(If you get that reference I love you)

You become hyper-fixation buddies.

You and Nifty don’t get along too well…

“YOU LEAVE THE ROACHES ALONE!” You shriek, holding two bugs high above you hear as the short little menace tries to get to them, knife brandished.

“NEVER!” She laughed back a crazed look in her eye.

…that wasn’t fun. Rest in piece Sir Bob and dame Jane.

Whenever you zone out in front of Husk, he pours a glass of apple juice and gently places it in front of you, eyeing you every now and then, a concerned look in his eyes.

Alastor finds you amusing.

He tried making a deal with you on your first day.

Now Vaggie won’t let him within a 3 meter radius of you.

When you meet Lucifer, he takes one look at you, Speckle coiled around your neck and a bottle of apple juice in your hands and just immediately goes “🫠”

He’s your father now. There’s no getting out of it. Why would even you want to tho?

Hyper-fixation buddy #2

You both rant about your special interests to each other

Be prepared to be bombarded with rubber ducks.

Meanwhile, in heaven…

Everyone: wHeRe iS tHe cHiLd?

[missytmnt74]

Im going to sing you didn't know by hazbin hotel

(Emily) but she was right Sara she showed us a soul could improve he saw the light Sara checked all the boxes that you sed would prove a person deserves a second chance but then you turn your back so second glance

(Sara) its not as simple as you think not everything is spelled in ink

(Charlie) its not fair Sara

(Vaggy) careful Charlie keep a cool head

(Charlie) no don't you care Sara that just because someone is dead doesn't mean they can't resolve to change their ways turn the page escape internal blaze

(Sara) I know you wish it could be so but there is a lot that you don't know

(Lute) what are we even talking about some crack-whore who fucked up already he blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth this discussion is senseless and petty

(Adam and lute) theirs no question to be posed he's unholy case closed did you forget that hell is forever

(Adam) a man only lives once we'll see you in one month gotta say I can't wait to

(Sara) Adam

(Adam) come down and exterminate you

(Emily) wait

(Adam) shit

(Emily) what are you saying let me get this straight you go down there and kill those poor souls

(Charlie) you didn't know

(Adam) whoops

(Lute) guess the cats out of the bag

(Adam) what's the big deal

(Emily) Sara tell me that you didn't know

(Sara) I thought since I'm older it's my load to shoulder (Emily) no (sara) you have to listen it was such a hard decision I wanted to save you the anguish It takes to do what was required

(Emily) to think that I admired you well I don't need your condescension I'm not a child to protect was talk of virtue Just Pretension was I too naive to expect you to heed the Morals your purveying

(Charlie) that's what the fuck I've been saying

(Charlie and Emily) if hell is forever then heaven must be a lie (sara) Emily (Charlie and Emily) if angels can do whatever and remain in the sky the rules are shades of grey when don't do as you say when you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again

(Charlie) I was told not to trust in angels

(Adam) by her

(Lute) ha she should know

(Vaggy) we should go

(Charlie) no don't you see we've come so close look at them fighting there at each others throats

(Adam) don't you act all high and mighty did you ever think that your little girlfriend might be a liar

(Vaggy) don't Adam please

(Adam) what's the fuss why hide the fact that your an angel just like us

(Missytmnt) hey guys I don't know why I did this ok I'm bored

[zero-insignificance]

DND Recap: Till Death Do Us Part

Cast include: Rose the DM, Alfie (yours truly), Mark, Truk, Patrick, Boothill, and Bob

Before the session even started, there were shenanigans.

Me: What is something Bob definitely doesn’t have in his bag of holding? Rose: I don’t think Bob has a dildo. Me: Bob has a dildo now. Truk's player: What are you talking about? Rose: Bob has a dildo Truk's player: Out of all the people in the party, Bob is the last one I expected to have a dildo. Patrick’s player joins the call Patrick’s player: Hey. Me: You missed some quality bullshit. Patrick: In ten minutes? Me: I asked Rose "what is something that Bob doesn’t have in his bag of holding?" Now take it away Rose! Rose: Bob has a dildo now. Patrick’s player: WHAT Me: Bob is a bottom.

Apparently, Alfie smells like vanilla, cedar and river water and Truk smells like pure testosterone. So Truk has no smell. Truk wears cologne one time and Alfie is immediately like "No. Undo it. No son of mine wears cologne."

And apparently Truk loves ranch. He will drink it.

Into the session.

Alfie wakes on his wedding day. He finally saw his fiancé last night for the first time after 85 years. And he turned into a snake and coiled around them for cuddles. He slithers out from under them, releasing them from their scaley prison.

Alfonse gets up to get ready for his wedding.

This is what he's wearing just make it so it accommodates bird biology.

He strolls through the castle securing his caplet and Bob runs up to him with a "I fucked up" look on his face.

Bob: Alfie! Alfie: What did you do? Bob: Why do you assume it's something bad? Alfie: Bob. You're bad at hiding your emotions. This is why you suck at poker. Bob: *scoffs* fine you're right... Alfie: What did you do? Please tell me you didn't try baking another cake. Bob: No, I didn't. I might've gone ham with the wisteria... Alfie: What do you mean by that? Rose: Where is the wedding taking place? Me: The courtyard? Bob: the tree may or may not be... taking up the entire courtyard? Alfie: what? Rose: It's like the size of the Urd tree.

Alfie runs over to one of the entrances to the courtyard and there is tree in the way.

Alfie: We can fix this. We'll just have the reception inside the tree. Go get my dad. Bob: Which dad? Alfie: The tall scary one. Bob: On it. Alfie: *revs chainsaw*

Patrick has a throat lozenge. Alfie is like "Your voice is a little high" and he slaps him on the back dealing three bludgeoning damage.

Rose: Who is invited to the wedding? Me: We got the cast of Hazbin Hotel, Alastor is contractually obligated to not make any deals with anyone less he be ejected from the party through a cannon. We've got the mane six and Discord plus the princesses. The entire Greek pantheon is invited except for Zeus and Poseidon. A select few legends of Avantris characters. Rose: Does that include Aphrodite? Me: Alfie does not like her. He is cordial with her. Hephestus and her are divorced. Hera is in the process of divorcing Zeus. Hera: Alfie! Alfie: Hey Hera! I see Hermes didn't slack. Hermes: Of course, I didn't! Alfie: Also, Zeus tried to sneak in. He is impaled on a pillar. Rose: You hear a knock at the castle doors. Alfie answers it Rose: It's Jack Black with Tenacious D. Alfie: DIYONISUS! Good to see you, man! Jack Black: Good to see you too! Where are we setting up? Alfie: We're currently hollowing out a tree. We're doing the last-minute touches. Head to the courtyard. Torbek: TORBEK'S HERE! Alfie: Torbek! Glad you could make it Bitsy: Well, hi~ Patrick's player: is legends of avantris canon in this universe? Rose: Yes. Bitsy: That's canon now!

Mark is wearing the suit Alfie selected

Discord: Please tell me Bob didn't make the cake... Alfie: I kept him away from the cake. Discord: He killed an entire town when he tried to make bread. Alfie: How. Discord: Apparently, he didn't know cyanide isn't tasty. Alfie: I'll teach him how to cook eventually. I'll do it in a nuclear testing grounds.

Discord and Mark square up. Alfie is over their bullshit. Mark flexes and rips a seam in his suit. Bob uses mending to fix the seams Discord balloons up. Alfie puts Discord in his place because he's secretly jacked. Discord deflates. Seeing Alfie flex is like watching Nerd of the Nerd and Jock comics flex to Discord. Alfie can and will kick Discord out. Discord will behave. Bob is wearing this

Truk is checking him out. Bob: Truk I can feel you staring and it's making me uncomfortable. Truk: Sorry *immediately looks away*

Hill is wearing a white suit. Truk is wearing traditional Russian clergy clothing because he is the officiant.

Alfie looks like a very proud dad. It turns out that Alfie was very present in Truk's life during his time in Russia. And Truk asks Alfie what he meant when he called him his son. And the truth of the matter is that Alfie saw him grow up. He witnessed the event that made Truk the man he is. He's protective of him in the same way a dad would be.

A young Truk wanted to play wedding one time to marry his parents and that is how he became ordained. He asked Alfie to be the flower guy.

A familiar figure shows up with a large fake mustache. Alfie immediately notices and it's the fucking Gnome.

Mark: You come to me on the day of my bestie's wedding. Perish. Gnome: a- Mark crushes him like a soda can.

And then he walks back up. And Truk gets to kill him. Apparently, these are just the gnome from different universes. The first thing Truk does when hie reaches full godhood is erase that fucking gnome from the multiverse.

Alfie: Is there a particular reason you showed up on MY FUCKING WEDDING DAY? Gnome: Oh shit, my b

And the gnome leaves.

Bob is pouting in the corner cuz he's jealous and does some insult I forgot because he doesn't know how to deal with emotions and Alfie is supposed to be his husband.

Finally, we get to the ceremony. Alfie and Fluffy walk themselves down the aisle, because fluffy don't subscribe to that and Alfie has too many parental figures and he doesn't want to hurt their feelings. Zeus tries the sneak in. Everybody at the wedding stands up and throws him out.

Truk starts on the officiants speech.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the love between these two. A love that has been challenged by so many things. From long distance to time travel bullshit to threats to their very lives, their love for each other has endured. Now onto the vows."

Fluffy looks at Alfonse and says "You're cool. I like you. I'm keeping you."

And Alfie holds their hands and speaks. "The day I saw you fighting a seagull for some stale french fries, I was intrigued. And then you punted the seagull and I was like "damn, I gotta get to know this person."

"You've shown bravery and total disregard for the law by also cooking and eating the seagull, which was delicious. And I couldn't have asked for a better and more unconventional first date. And the best part is that you never once questioned who I was."

At that point I had to pause cuz I was tearing up.

Alfie: And the day I saw you fight a goose I knew I was going to marry you. Fluffy: Actually, it was a swan. Alfie: IT WAS A SWAN? MARRY ME FASTER- Fluffy: I'm trying!

Truk speed runs the rest of the officiants speech "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you HUSBAND AND PARTNER! You may now kiss." Fluffy: *by the chocolate fountain* Let's not and say we did. Alfie: My love, we must follow one rule today. *dips them and smooch*

He fills a couple of champagne glasses with fondue and shouts: "A TOAST TO THE IDIOT I MARRIED!"

And then we hear the opening of Saxaboom as the reception starts.

Azathoth walks up to Alfie with a small box. Alfie opens it and it's a soul. Bob's soul. Azathoth has gifted Alfie Bob's soul. Alfie: HEY BOB! Bob: *shot gunning a champagne glass of chocolate* Yes? Alfie: Um Azathoth just gave me your soul? Bob: WHAT?? Azathoth: Alfie owns your soul now. Bob: WHAT? Why was I not consulted???? It's MY SOUL! Azathoth: Would you have agreed to it? Bob: ... Azathoth: My point. He'll be be good for you. Alfie: I'll give you a chance to earn it back. Bob: Really? Alfie: To earn your soul back you must undeniably and unequivocally change the lives of 10 people. Bob: *groans* please no- Mark: How about he challenges me to an arm wrestle, and I purposefully lose? Bob: I like his idea. Alfie: You want to marry me one day? You need a redemption arc first. Bob: Fine... Mark: Plus, it's probably best that you're on a leash for now. Rose: Oh no, I can't say it for him- Me: What? What is it? Rose: I was going to say, "How do you know what I'm into?" Me: *bitsy voice* That's canon now~

Finally, it's time for Mark's best man speech (which made me cry)

“I would like to make a toast to Alfie. My truest best friend. He is an extraordinary individual and partner. Gorg got stuck in a red dragon's mouth. Me and Gorg, who loved fighting, were sad and cheered us up. As he made us a home cooked meal around a fire he said, “I never met a couple of knuckleheads dumb enough to lodge me into a dragon’s mouth.” It makes me proud to see someone with such power strive for such good and be kind. You are my best friend, and I would die for you. To Alfie!”

And during his speech, is first time Mark cries in front of Alfie.

And I'm crying, and I thought about that a lot during my shift at work and just teared up in the soup aisle as I was stocking the condensed beef and barley soup from Campbells.

As his wedding gift to Alfie, Mark gifts him a non-alcoholic bottle of wyvern whiskey that is enchanted to get you drunk no matter what your tolerance is.

They each take a shot and roll a flat con save. The DC save is 19. Mark gets black out drunk (3). I rolled a nat 20 so Alfie is tipsy.

Fucking Biggie Cheese is at the wedding. Biggie Cheese was the first Emperor of Russia. Truk bows and calls him his (so many greats) grandfather It turns out that in the lore of this universe, first there was nothing, then there was Biggie Cheese. Biggie Cheese brought Brick into existence. And Biggie Cheese only says "Biggie Cheese" so that was driving Brick crazy, and they were like "I NEED A FRIEND-" and Azathoth popped into existence and Brick was like "YOU. BE MY FRIEND-" and they were friends/brothers, and they had a fight one time and that brought the universe into existence. And they vowed never to make a clash so violent again lest it destroy what they made.

This makes Alfie and Truk cousins twice removed? They don't like thinking about it cuz it makes their brains hurt. Alfie acts as a surrogate father to Truk.

Eventually, Truk sneaks off and Bob notices. Cue a chase scene where we almost loose him and Alfie notices that his friends are disappearing, so he uses tremor sense to track them down.

Truk has gotten another letter from the twins. Two dwarves of the Mason's guild of the Kingdom of Philidelphia.

We'll have to find a way to separate them because when they are together, they have a bunch of damage resistances according to Hank.

The relationship between Russia and Philidelphia is rocky so Truk sends ahead a letter that says. "The King of Russia is coming. Two of your citizens have forsaken their god" with the seal of the Russian royal family and the holy symbol of Brick.

Next stop? Philidelphia.

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

PART FOUR

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction (romance-ish)

notes: please reread part three before starting part four. I just edited part three because it took me so long to notice some parts of part three were missing. Oops. Also, this takes place after Charlie and Vaggie forgave each other. I am a little confused about the actual episode's timeline on when the extermination day happened but I like to think it was a few weeks before the extermination.

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.

PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FIVE

“What the fuck...?” Angel muttered, his eyes narrowing as he noticed a bright shooting star coming down from the skies of hell. Since when did shooting stars appear in hell?

The pornstar just wanted to hangout by his balcony after a long night of filming, he didn't expect to see something literally crash from the skies down to the fiery grounds of hell.

A large explosion could be heard in the distance, if he squinted he could literally see a crater.

“Holy shit. Gotta tell the others.” Angel groaned before eventually running out of his room. He doesn't know why it's a big deal, usually he wouldn't care if something crashed into hell's ground as it could be another sinner but something in his gut told him to tell the others.

Angel's feet tapped into the hotel floors, quickly running down the stairs, the arachnid finally arriving at the lobby, hunched up and heaving.

Coincidentally, the others seem to notice the sound of something exploding from the distance outside the hotel.

“Guys!” Angel started, catching the others attention, stopping as he had to breathe. “Something just crashed a few distance away from the hotel...” Angel wheezes out.

“It's probably just another sinner who ended up here in hell.” Husk says, his voice bored as he continues to wipe some glasses clean.

“Maybe but my gut is telling me otherwise, I think you guys should check it out.” Angel says with a deadpan making both Vaggie and Charlie to sigh.

“I think we should check it out, it might be something or someone interesting.” Alastor grins and Vaggie turns to look at Angel.

“Fine, but you're coming with us as we don't know where the thing or person crashed.” Vaggie says making Angel whine, “Yeah, yeah.”

“Come on, let's go. This should be an opportunity to have another guest for the hotel!” Charlie says excitedly. She's excited to help another poor lost soul to redemption.

Charlie didn't expect this, her face horrified. Angel took them to the crash site that was just a few distance away from the hotel—a rather remote area of the city.

She expected a sinner, what she didn't expect to see was the kind angel that helped her and Vaggie in heaven... Now passed out and bleeding profusely. Gold liquid painting her broken form.

“Now, this is interesting.” Alastor smirked but Charlie had to cover her mouth to prevent any screams coming out of her throat. Vaggie looked just as horrified beside her while Angel just looked in shock, worry, and confusion.

Charlie looked at Alastor, panic evident in her eyes, “Just don't stand there, please help her!”

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned some of his shadow entities to gently lift the fallen angel and brought out of the crater that she created from her fall. Vaggie ushered the shadow entities, “Hold her steady and gentle...”

“Fuck... [Y/n] what happened? I got to call dad...” Charlie mutters as she quickly takes her phone from her pocket, freezing as she heard the fallen angel groaned in pain.

“Charlie?” [y/n] calls out softly, the princess of hell flinching slightly before eventually going to the woman's side.

“[y/n] I'm here... I'm glad you're alive... Just hold on a minute, I'm going to call da—” Charlie says in a panicked voice but was quickly cut off by [y/n].

“Don't... Please... I don't want him to see me like this...” [y/n] pleaded, pain evident in her voice. Eyes closed but tears streaming down her cut cheek.

“But [y/n]... You need help...” Charlie says in a worried tone.

“I don't want our reunion to be like this... Trust me please? I can heal on my own... I am not ready to see him yet, not like this...” [y/n] whispers, groaning slightly as one of the shadows began to treat her wounds. Alastor and Angel remained quiet, unsure what to say. The men can tell that the fallen angel was acquainted with both Vaggie and Charlie. Though, Alastor had a mischievous grin on his face.

“Alright... Though, I do think it's a bad idea...” Charlie sighs as Vaggie places a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Charlie and friends... I'm glad it was you guys who found me...” [y/n] smiles as she once more passes out.

“Hurry, let's take her back to the hotel!” Vaggie orders and Alastor once more uses his powers to gently bring the broken angel back to the hotel while the others followed.

Charlie sat on the chair beside the bed where [y/n] is sleeping on, currently the said woman is still asleep and healing. [Y/n] has been in a coma for three days now, most of her broken bones and along with her wounds were patched up from the help of Alastor. [Y/n]'s healing powers are working but it's incredibly slow because of the lack of energy.

Charlie remained true to her words, despite having the temptation to call her dad. She did not.

She did not want to break [y/n]'s trust nor she wants her dad to be heartbroken once he sees [y/n]'s broken state.

Charlie had a lot of questions. Why is she here? What did she do to cause her to fall from grace?

Charlie sighs to herself, gently holding the unmoving hand of [y/n] and squeezed it gently.

“Please wake up soon, I am sure you want to see my dad right? And I want to hear stories from you on what you did in heaven after the meeting.” Charlie says softly before letting go of the older woman's hand before eventually leaving the room.

Unknown to the princess that [y/n]'s hand twitched ever so slightly after she left.

[Y/n] groaned softly, eyes slowly blinking as she took in her new environment. Unfamiliar ceiling, very red... Apple design on the tinted windows?

She winced as she felt the soreness of her bones, eyes widening as she realizes that her body is patched up. She then remembers what happened, the argument with Sera, the trial, the fall.

She quickly shot up from her bed, wincing as pain shot over her body. “Ow...”

“You should be careful...” a voice says, [y/n] looked around to see no one but her eyes finally landed on the floor to see... An egg? A talking egg?

“Hi?” [y/n] hesitantly greeted and the egg boy jumped happily and waved his hand. “Hello pretty angel lady! I am glad you're awake. Charlie has been very worried about you.” the egg boy says making [y/n]'s eyes widen.

“Charlie? Do you know where she is?” [y/n] asked softly, coughing slightly from the slight irritation of her throat.

“Um... She's downstairs.. Do you want me to call her for you?” the egg boy asked and [y/n] nodded, “That would be much appreciated... Err what's your name?” [y/n] asked, tilting her head slightly.

“My name's Frank and you are...?” Frank, the egg boy said excitedly making the fallen angel giggle slightly.

“My name is [y/n]... It is nice to meet you, Frank.” she says making the egg boy blush a little and smile widely.

“It is nice to meet you pretty angel lady! I'm going to call Charlie now!” Frank says before comically running out of the room making [y/n] chuckle slightly.

She turns to look at the window, mind and heart racing.

She's in hell. She's in Lucifer's territory. In the hotel owned by Lucifer's daughter.

Charlie was just talking with the others in the lobby, discussing plans that they should do when one of Sir Pentious' egg boys came running into the room.

“Pretty angel lady is now awake!” the egg boy says.

Charlie's eyes widened along with Vaggie's, the two girls quickly excusing themselves to go to the guestroom where [y/n] was resting.

After finally arriving at the room, they saw [y/n] sitting on her bed staring outside the window. Seemingly lost in thought.

“[y/n]... You're finally awake...” Charlie says, tears streaming down her cheeks. [Y/n] turned to look at the source of the voice and to see Charlie and Vaggie standing by the door.

[y/n] smiled widely at them, “Charlie, Vaggie... It's been awhile.” [y/n] says softly before letting out a small 'oof' as Charlie quickly hugged her. [Y/n] winces slightly while Vaggie panicked.

“Babe... Take it easy... She's still injured...” Vaggie says worriedly as Charlie slowly lets go of the poor woman.

“Oops, sorry, sorry... I'm glad you're awake...” Charlie says with a small smile and [y/n] nodded and gave the two girls a gentle smile in return. “Thank you for taking care of me... I am sorry for crashing like that...” [y/n] says shyly and Charlie shook her head.

“No,no... You shouldn't apologize... If you don't mind me asking, what happened? How did you end up here?” Charlie asked and [y/n] avoided her gaze.

“I... I questioned them... Their ideals and rules and I finally crossed the line and it got me here.” [y/n] says softly and looks at Charlie with an apologetic look in her eyes.

“I am truly sorry Charlie, I tried to change their minds but heaven didn't listen.” [y/n] says softly, placing her face against the palm of her hands as she cried a little. Charlie panicked a little.

“No,no, no... Don't apologize... It wasn't beyond your control and to hear and see you try to help me and the rest of the sinners... I appreciate it a lot...” Charlie says and Vaggie nodded. [Y/n] quickly wiped her face with her sleeves. Finally noticing that she was changed out of her old clothes and now wearing a comfortable dress.

“Thank you Charlie and thank you to everyone who helped take care of me.” [y/n] says softly and Charlie nodded with a small grin, “Anytime.”

It has been a few days since [y/n] woke up, she's been healing splendidly well. She also got along with the others inside the hotel, forming bonds with the demons.

[y/n] can truly see these souls can be redeemed.

Time has finally come and she's now fully healed. She's now ready to face Lucifer. It has been so long since she's last seen him.

“Are you really ready to see him?” Charlie asked, watching the older woman prepare herself for her trip. [Y/n] stood by the mirror, adjusting the dress she's wearing that Charlie gave her. It's a light blue collared dress that reaches by her knees, puffy sleeves and she's also wore some short black heels.

“I think it's time, our reunion was long overdue. I am healed enough to walk and fend for myself.” [y/n] says with a smile, her eyes landing on the bandages wrapped around her arms, the major wounds still in the process of healing but she's fine now.

“I know... I'm just worried...” Charlie says with a sigh, concerned for the woman's overall being.

“Would he be happy to see me though?” [y/n] asked, her voice above a whisper as she brushed her hair and styled it the way she wants.

Charlie's voice hitched. He will, he will be so happy. Oh, he's going to love you.

Is what Charlie thought, a smile on her face.

“Absolutely! So don't overthink it too much.” Charlie says and [y/n] sighs.

“But what if? What if he hates me? How should I act around him? It's been so longgg!” [y/n] panicked and Charlie had a close eyed smile on her face.

Well... A perfect pair... A fallen angel with anxiety and the other fallen angel has depression. A true chemistry for real.

“[y/n]. Look at me.” Charlie says sternly, placing her hands on both sides of [y/n]'s shoulders. [Y/n] looking at her hesitantly.

“You'll be fine, my father misses you just as much as you miss him. So woman up and tell yourself you can do this okay?” Charlie says sternly.

“Okay... I can do this...” [y/n] says with a deep breath, patting her dress to ease up the creases.

“Tell me if you're ready, I'll teleport you to the palace.” Charlie says softly and [y/n] nodded, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

“I think I am now ready.” [y/n] says surely but inside she's still nervous.

Charlie smiled and looked at her, “Goodluck [y/n]. Take care of him for me okay?” Charlie giggled and [y/n] looked at her with slight confusion. Confused what the girl meant at the last part. She wanted to ask but the girl flicked her fingers and red smoke surrounded her and she was brought to the front door of the palace.

[y/n] took a deep breath, her hand moving towards the heart necklace on her neck, clutching the pendant slightly. The very necklace Lucifer gave her eons ago. She kept it, it was a gift from him after all.

Finally letting go of the pendant, closing her fingers and letting her knuckle finally knocked on the door.

TAGLIST:

@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers

[amazingmsme]

Lets See A Smile

AN: My first Hazbin fic! There’s not nearly enough fics for it so here I am! Had a blast writing it, hope y’all enjoy! Angel and Alastor have such a fun dynamic!

Angel sighed in relief as his shift finally came to an end. You'd think a hotel with virtually no patrons would make for an easy work day, but when one of those guests was none other than fucking Sir Pentious of all people, you might as well jump off the highest cliff in hell. He kicked open the door to the break room, eager to vent to his friends.

"You would not BELIEVE the day I had! Next time you need someone to deal with Sir Penis get someone else to do it 'cause there's no way I'm going back up there to pick up eggshells and 20 feet of snake skin," he exclaimed dramatically, eyes closed with an arm thrown over his face like a damsel. Alastor popped his head up from where he was laying on the couch.

"I will be sure to let Charlie know of your complaint," he said. Angel's eyes flew open as he pushed himself away from the wall. 

"What, you? Where's Charlie? Or Vaggie?" he asked, not too pleased to see the radio demon when he was expecting his gal pals.

"Don't you remember? Tonight is their anniversary!" Alastor said in a cheery tone. Angel crossed his first pair of arms and rested another hand on his hip.

"Oh yeah, forgot about that," he said dismissively. Alastor sat up fully now, resting his feet on the floor instead of taking up the whole couch. He tilted his head quizzically, taking in the other demon.

"What, you got some fuckin' problem?" Angel asked, noticing his intense stare. Alastor shook his head, looking away.

"Not at all Angel, but from the sounds of it, you do." Angel rolled his eyes.

"Yeah and he's on the third floor," he said with a huff. Alastor scooted over and patted the cushion next to him invitingly.

"Why don't you sit?" Angel's face lit up as he strolled over.

"Hey don't mind if I do," he said before plopping right in Alastor's lap. He blushed and faltered.

"Wha- Not on me!" he exclaimed and shoved him off. Angel Dust chuckled, settling into a proper seat.

"Sorry, you didn't specify," he smirked. Alastor glared at him with a small growl.

"You know damn well that's not what I meant." They fell into a slightly awkward silence. Alastor sat stiffly while Angel sprawled across the sofa, taking up most of the room and not seeming to care. Alastor liked to pride himself in his ability to read other people, and right now it was obvious that Angel was not himself. Oh sure he would try and act like his usual flamboyant and snarky self, but apparently their customer had really gotten under his skin. He didn't like seeing the other demon so upset. He tapped his fingers on his knees, letting out a low whistle that mixed with the smallest whine of microphone feedback.

"Soooo..." he started. Angel only raised a brow. "Would you care to talk about it?"

"Eh, not really. That slithery prick's already eaten up too much of my time," he dismissed. After a brief pause he let out a long suffering sigh, arching his back over the arm of the couch and just let himself hang there. This caused Alastor himself to sigh.

"Well you're obviously upset about it, and normally I'd dump you off on Charlie but she's not here right now, so you're stuck with me. And while I may not be very good at this, I would like to cheer you up. Is there, um, anything I could do to maybe help?" Angel raised himself up, a little skeptical.

"You serious?"

"Yes! After all you're never fully dressed without a smile! And you sir are lacking the appropriate attire," he justified.

"Yeah well, I'm a slut, so what do you expect?" he asked, though he allowed himself to relax a bit. "Can you, no ya know what, never mind," Angel stopped himself mid sentence. And was that a blush creeping up his face? Needless to say Alastor was intrigued.

"No do go on!" he encouraged. Angel waved a hand as if to brush him off.

"Naw you wouldn't like it."

"Nonsense! And if I don't like it, I'll just talk about it behind your back to Husk like a normal person," he admitted. Angel considered this and shrugged.

"Well at least you're honest. So, what I was gonna say was, uh, can I have a hug?" he asked sheepishly. He reached up and rubbed a hand behind his neck, "It's just I'm a little tired and upset, and I'm kinda used to it with Charlie around. Hehe, look at me, goin' soft..." he trailed off. Alastor- didn't really know what to say. So instead he just leaned back into the sofa and held out his arms. Angel broke into a shy grin and cuddled against him. Alastor rested his arms around him, not allowing himself to fully relax into the hug. Not yet at least. Affectionate touch was still kinda new for him. But he had to admit, it did feel nice. It gave him a warm kind of comfort he hadn't felt in forever, and he let himself sink into the feeling.

"Ya know what Al? You actually give pretty good hugs. Heh, better not let Charlie know, am I right?" he joked with a poke to his side. Alastor went completely rigid, his hold on Angel tightened ever so slightly. This didn't go unnoticed.

"Al, you okay there buddy? Didn't hurt ya, did I?" he asked. He doubted he could even hurt him if he tried, but he wanted to make sure.

"W-what? You hurt me? Oh please," he tried to play it off, hoping he would just drop it. But this is Angel Dust we're talking about, he's not one to simply "drop" things. Not to mention, he's had years of experience in his old line of work. He's learned all there is to know about the body and it's various reactions to touch. Which is why it only took him a second to figure out what had happened.

"If you're ticklish you coulda just said so, I woulda left you alone," he said casually. Alastor's jaw dropped in mild horror and shock, pushing the other demon away.

"I am no such thing!" he adamantly denied. Angel raised a brow, a sly smirk creeping onto his face.

"Oh please, big scary tough guy like you? Definitely ticklish," he said, watching Alastor's reactions from the corner of his eye. Despite his best efforts to keep it at bay, a blush rose to his cheeks. As Angel spoke, he let one of his hands wander closer to Alastor's side.

He was just about to snap at him, a sharp retort on the tip on his tongue, when Angel's hand connected with his side. He let out a startled noise, jerking away and snapped his head to look at Angel. The smile he gave the radio demon was completely predatory and feral. Alastor found himself scooting away.

"Now Angel, don't do anything you'll regret," he warned, but his voice wavered with nerves.

"Trust me, I ain't gonna regret this," he said, lunging forth and straddling a very shocked Alastor. He wasn't used to people not taking his threats seriously and was a bit stunned. He tried to grab Angel's hands to block him, but he countered by pinning his wrists with his first set of arms. He chuckled, wiggling his fingers above his stomach. Alastor struggled, trying to free himself.

"What's the matter? Forget I had these?" Angel asked. He emphasized his point by skittering his fingers all along his belly, making him burst into staticky giggles.

"Stohohop this ihihinstant!" Alastor demanded through his laughter. Angel Dust leaned forward, grinning widely. Alastor could see his own hysterical reflection shinning in Angel's eyes, so he looked away, too embarrassed to see the giggly mess he'd become.

"Nah, I don't really feel like it. Besides, I think this is the first time I've heard you laugh! I'm having way too much fun to stop!"

"Thahahat's nohot true! Ihihi laugh ahahall the time," he tried to speak through his manic giggles.

Angel shrugged, "Yeah but laughing at your own lame jokes don't count. Kinda pathetic actually." He added another pair of arms to the mix, reaching behind him to squeeze and scratch at his knees. Alastor drummed his legs on the couch, his laughter increasing in volume and pitch. Radio static mixed more frequently with his laugh, making Angel coo.

Dohohon't patronize mehehe!" Alastor cried.

"I'm not! But you gotta admit Al, your laugh is adorable," he teased, making his voice a higher pitch and using the same tone that he normally talks to Fat Nuggets with. He brought his third pair of arms up to squeeze at his sides, the second pair starting to crawl up his ribs as he sang.

"The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout." Though he thought it to be impossible, Alastor's laughter increased even more. "Down, came the rain and washed the spider out." He raked his knuckles down his ribs, making him arch his back with a cackle. As he finished the nursery rhyme, he let his fingers walk back up his ribs before attacking his exposed underarms.

Alastor squealed before his voice faded into the high pitched screech of a microphone. Angel jerked back in shock at the loud noise, covering his ears as he fell back on the couch. His eyes were squeezed shut as he fell into a giggle fit, clutching his stomach with his many arms. He brought a hand up to wipe away a few tears as Alastor recovered.

His breathing was already beginning to return to normal, but his face was still a burning crimson. Angel patted his leg comfortingly before he rose from the couch, stretching as he spoke.

"Oh man, that was fun. Never knew ya could laugh like that Smiles," he said, settling back onto the cushions. Because he was so tall, Alastor was taking up most of the space, causing Angel to huff and kick his legs with his boot. "Skooch over, you're takin' up the whole damn couch," he grumbled. Alastor finally sat up, seemingly recovered. His cheeks were still sporting a decent flush and he brushed himself off, trying to scrap together his remaining dignity by straightening his crumpled clothes. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"You have ten seconds," he stated calmly. Angel raised a brow.

"Ten seconds to do what?" he asked.

"Why, to run of course," Alastor stated as though it were obvious.

"Hell no, I ain't runnin'! I just got comfy," he said, gesturing to his already lounging position. Alastor shrugged, his residual smile widening into something more sinister.

"Very well, it is your funeral after all." Angel's eyebrows furrowed together, beginning to connect the dots. He opened his mouth to protest, only to be cut off.

"Nine."

Angel's eyes widened and he scrambled to get as far away from the radio demon as possible. In such a rush, his legs got tangled and he stumbled over himself before rushing out the door. Alastor was already down to six. He rushed down the hall and into the lobby, looking for cover. There was no way he could out run him, so his only chance was to hide. He only hesitated for a second before his eyes landed on the bar and he sprinted towards it.

Husk saw him coming and shook his head. "Oh hell no, you already used up all your points," he said casually. He jumped back with a hiss, fur standing on end when Angel made a move to dive over the bar.

"This ain't about that, you gotta hide me!" he pleaded, gripping onto his shirt. Husk shoved him off.

"What the hell did you get into now?" he asked, running a hand down his tired face.

"No time to explain, just go on about your business and act like I ain't here," he said, crouching down underneath the bar. "Oh and if Al asks, say you haven't seen me."

Husker's eyes widened, shaking his head. "Sorry, but I'm not covering for you. This is your mess, you deal with it. I don't wanna get caught in the cross hairs of whatever you did to piss him off," he said, trying to drag Angel Dust out from underneath the countertop. Angel cursed as he struggled to stay put, already forced halfway out. It was then that Alastor himself leisurely strolled into the lobby. His eyes fell on Angel, and he twirled his microphone stand gleefully.

"Oh Angel there you are!" he exclaimed. Angel let out a small scream before leaping back over the bar, much to Husk's annoyance. As he ran out of the room, he used two hands to flip Husk off.

"Wow thanks for bein' fucking useless!"

Husk cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled after him. "I'll be sure to remember that next time you ask for a drink!" He sighed in defeat, bending down to arrange the various glasses and bottles he had knocked over. Alastor came up and leaned against the bar.

"I'll take a glass of water real quick, if you don't mind," he said. Husk complied, filling it up with tap before sliding it over to him.

"The hell he do to you? Kid was so desperate to get away you'd think he was fleeing for his life." Upon hearing the question, Al's ear twitched, another blush dusting his cheeks as he looked away. Husk looked him up and down and spoke once more. "Then again maybe he is."

"Mm. If you'll excuse me Husker, I believe I must enact some well deserved revenge." The bar tender chuckled.

"Alright, but don't rough him up too much. Charlie'll have your head if you hurt him."

Alastor waved a hand lazily as he made his way in the direction that Angel ran off. "No need to worry, our friend shall be in good hands." He sent his shadow in search of the fleeing man, rolling up his sleeves in preparation. In his time alive, one of the things he adored most was the thrill of the chase. The adrenaline rush that came with hunting down his prey was nearly more enjoyable than the act of killing. Almost. But oh how he relished in the fear glistening in their eyes and their labored breath as they were inevitably trapped, watching as he closed in. He found he was eager to see that look in Angel's eyes, though for a completely different reason.

Angel was close to his room now. He had had a few close calls, turning down halls that suddenly lead to nowhere, catching the glimpse of a dark shadow from the corner of his eye. He knew Al was fucking with him, but he was determined to make it to safety. He was almost there; he could see his door at the end of the hall. He ran that much harder, only to find he wasn't getting any closer. He looked down at his legs that were running in place and felt dread sink to the bottom of his stomach. He heard a deep, staticky chuckle from behind and gasped, trying with all his might to get to his room.

"Oh c'mon!" he yelled out in an exasperated tone, looking over his shoulder only to see the grinning deer. He gave a small wave, tilting his head to the side. Whatever magic Alastor had him trapped with vanished, and he let out a victory cry as he threw himself at his door, opening it before slamming it shut and locking it behind him. He let out a deep sigh of relief, shoulders slacking as he leaned against the door. The wood felt cool against his cheek, and he smiled to himself, finally knowing he was safe.

A slow clap sounded from behind him, and his breath hitched and caught in his throat. He whirled around to see Alastor, sitting on his bed with a stupidly smug grin as he applauded.

"Splendid! You put on quite a good show I must say, but I'm afraid the previews are over." Angel reached for the knob, only it was locked by his own doing. He pressed his back against the wall, smiling sheepishly as the man stood and slowly made his way closer to him.

"Look, A-Al, no hard feelings, right? I won't tell a soul I swear! You got my word, I'm sorry," he tried to plead.

"Did you really think I'd let you get away without having my revenge?" he asked calmly. Angel shrugged.

"Well I mean, yeah. I mean- I was hoping for it," he corrected himself, rubbing a hand behind his neck with a chuckle. Alastor snapped his fingers, opening a portal in the floor. All of a sudden, tentacles reached out and grabbed Angel and forced him onto the bed, pinning all of his limbs.

He blinked in shock before smirking. "Can't say this isn't what I'm used to. Been in worse bondage situations than this, let me tell ya," he mused, trying to mask his growing fear with his usual flirtations. Alastor sat next to him on the bed and he tried to squirm away, not getting very far. Angel shrunk in on himself, feeling very exposed underneath Alastor's gaze, and not in the way he would've liked. He gulped and spoke. "So uh, I normally ask this question with a lot more enthusiasm, but- what are you gonna do to me?" he ventured to question.

Alastor answered gladly. "I would've thought you were smart enough to know but clearly I overestimated you." Angel let out a cry of protest only to be cut off.

"I'm sure you know the phrase "an eye for an eye,"" he said, casting a sly look his way. That alone made Angel's chest shake as he fought to force down his chuckles. He tugged at his bonds but they held strong, not allowing any leeway.

"Ahahal I'm sorry! I won't do it again, promise!" Alastor smirked and rested a hand on his stomach. Angel jerked at the touch, barely holding back a squeal.

"Oh I know you won't, but I have to make sure the lesson is ingrained in your thick skull so you won't even think about trying it again." He looked down at him, smirk growing as he drummed his fingers along his stomach.

"Nohohooo," Angel whined through his giggles, trying to suck in his stomach to get away from the touch.

"Laughing so soon? Oh this is going to be fun," Alastor practically growled through static. "So, are you willing to speed things along and tell me your worst spots? Or are you going to do this the hard way?"

Angel was already in deep, he knew he shouldn't say it but the guy gift wrapped a perfect chance for a dirty joke and gave it to him on a silver platter. He couldn't help himself. "Oh you know I like it hard," he all but purred. Alastor's eye twitched and he flicked an ear. Angel's flirtatious smirk quickly fell flat as he saw his life flash before his eyes.

"Nonono wait I take it back-"

"Too late Angel. I'm delighted to say that you just dug your second grave." He dug his claws into his stomach, grin growing as he watched him writhe underneath his touch. Angel bit his lip, trying to contain his titters. Maybe if he held out long enough, Alastor would grow bored and give up. Angel always was a dreamer.

"Hm, I wouldn't have thought you of all people would play hard to get," Alastor mused. Angel screwed his eyes shut biting his lip so hard he began to taste blood. "But you'll crack sooner or later," he said. Angel was wearing a loose t-shirt, so it was easy for him to slip his hand underneath. The reaction was instantaneous; he burst into frantic cackles, tugging on his wrists weakly. Alastor gave him a lazy, nonchalant smile. "See, I knew you'd come around!"

"Nohoho you cahahan't do this to mehehe," he cried out.

"Oh but I can! In fact, I'm doing it right now!" he said with a flourish, followed by a laugh track that could barely be heard over Angel's mirth. He let out an annoyed huff when the baggy shirt slid back down over his stomach due to his squirming. "Why don't we get this out of the way?" he asked. Before Angel could question him, he snapped his fingers leaving Angel's chest bare.

"Hey that was my favorite shirt you asshole!" Alastor didn't dignify that with a response. Well, not a verbal one anyways. The thin pink line trailing the middle of his stomach caught his eye, placing a single finger on the pattern. "Whoa hey, if ya wanted me to take my shihirt off all ya hahad to do was ask nicelyyyy," his voice raised in pitch when Alastor pressed down ever so slightly. Fuck this wasn't good, his pattern was way more sensitive and he really didn't need Al of all people to figure that out.

"By now you should know that I don't ask nicely," he said, a completely sinister look in his eyes. He drug his finger up along the pink line, making Angel arch his back with a squeal, much to his delight. His finger made its way back down the same path, and Angel shook his head back and forth, squirming in the tentacles' hold.

"Nohohot thehehere," he pleaded. Alastor hummed in thought.

"You see, when you say that it really makes me want to focus all my efforts on this exact spot," he teased.

"Bihihite mehehe!" They both froze, Alastor's grin stretching across his entire face. Angel realized his mistake and even though he knew it was futile, he kicked his legs out for purchase so he could scoot away. Alastor moved to straddle his waist, leaning in closer as sharp teeth glistened. "A-Al Ihihi didn't mean it like that! Oh shit, you're not gonna eat me, are ya?" Nervousness gave way to fear as he had no chance to escape.

"Why, what an excellent idea Angel Dust! I am a cannibal after all." He lunged forth, head diving towards his stomach. Angel screamed in terror which soon gave way to hysterical screams of laughter as Alastor nibbled and nuzzled against his stomach.

"Fuhuhuhuck it tihihickles so damn muhuhuch!" he yelled, trying to curl in on himself, but Alastor's magic held firm. He rose his head back up from the fluff, sputtering before picking a few hairs from his mouth. Angel gasped for breath during the break he knew wouldn't last long.

Alastor wiped his tongue on his sleeve to rid his mouth of any excess fluff. "Suddenly I've lost my appetite!"

"Greheat, so can you lehehet me gohoho?" Angel asked, fearing the answer. Alastor tapped his chin in thought, studying his form before answering.

"I suppose I could, but there's one spot left I want to try," Alastor said, eyes falling on his exposed hollows. Angel followed his gaze, eyes going wide with realization as an excited sort of panic flooded his body. Giggles bubbled out of his mouth that was stretched in an anxious smile, gold tooth gleaming.

"No please, anywhere but there," Angel begged, his efforts to escape doubling but still yielding the same results. Alastor smirked as he rested his hands right below his second pair of arms. Just doing that made him jerk and let out a small squeal. Alastor tilted his head, a devious look on his face.

"Oh Angel, you don't really get a say in the matter," he said, and then he attacked. He was completely lost to his laughter as Alastor scratched and skittered in his underarms, switching rapidly between them all to keep him a jumpy hysterical mess. He drilled his thumbs into the fur and kneaded around the sensitive area. He had to hold back his own chuckles once Angel started hiccuping amongst his cries of laughter. He finally granted him mercy, snapping his fingers and releasing his hold on the other demon. He sat beside him as Angel's giggles trailed off, interrupted every once in a while by another hiccup. Alastor notes that he hadn't moved at all, arms still raised and laying on the bed.

Angel glared up at him. "Damn you, you fuckin' prick. You're a fucki- fucking monster," he said, having to restart the word when another embarrassing hiccup broke up his speech. Alastor just smirked, narrowing his eyes.

"A tickle monster," he felt the need to correct. Angel groaned, a bright blush growing on his face. He covered his face with his lower set of hands, hoping that Alastor would at least be nice enough not to comment on it. "I hope it goes without saying that none of what happened is to leave this room," he threatened in a nicer tone, though it was a threat none the less. Angel sat up, waving a hand at him.

"Yeah yeah, trust me I don't want anyone else to know." Angel perked up, head snapping to look at Alastor. "Hey what'd you do with my shirt?" Alastor pointed around a pile of clothes in the corner, the soft pink shirt laying on top. He walked over, slipping it over his head. He noticed him staring at him, a smug, knowing look on his face. Angel narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

Alastor glanced down at his nails nonchalantly. "Nothing, just noticed something rather peculiar."  Angel flopped onto his bed, making him bounce with the mattress.

"Mind sharin' with the class?" he asked, even though he had a feeling he would regret it.

"I don't recall hearing you tell me to stop," he said with a sly smile. The curious grin on Angel's face immediately disappeared, cheeks heating up. He refused to meet his eyes as he struggled for a comeback.

"I- you- well- how could I, I was laughin' too hard!" he justified.

"You didn't seem to have any trouble saying other things," he beamed, holding up a hand when Angel grabbed a pillow and started beating him with it.

"Shut the hell up!"

"You like it!"

"SHUT UP!"

Alastor's static filled chuckles rang through the air. He even had the audacity to pinch his cheek before standing. "Glad to see you're feeling better. Laughter is the best medicine after all," he said.

Angel crossed his lower pair of arms, trying to hide his smile behind his hand. "Heh, I guess so."

Alastor was at the door, hand on the knob before he looked over his shoulder at Angel Dust. "Don't be shy to come find me if you ever need any more cheering up," he teased with a wink. Angel's face was practically on fire, and for once he didn't have a witty comeback. Alastor gave an amused huff before closing the door, leaving Angel alone to think about all that just happened.

[jetsetlife138]

Imaginary - Chapter 11

Rating: Mature Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Explicit Language, Seduction Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

What a night.

The throbbing in your head was unyielding as you woke. Blinking your eyes in a daze, you rubbed the last remnants of sleep away with your fists before rolling onto your back with a groan.

Pained and disoriented, you eventually forced your eyes open, squinting into the red-tinted glare from the window. Sunlight had been a thing of the past. Instead, Hell was lit with fire and brimstone, which cast a permanent crimson glow throughout the Seven Rings.

Relieving a sigh, you murmured to yourself, "It was just a dream," before pressing your face into your pillow, noting how strangely familiar it smelled. It didn't smell like you. Where had you smelled that before? The scent was masculine, similar to woodlands mixed with rain and spices. 

You knew that smell. 

Flinging yourself upward, you choked on your breath in horror as you took in your surroundings, now wide awake. 

This wasn't your room.

Last night's events came crashing down on you like a ton of bricks, the effects similar to that of a cold shower, sobering you instantly.

Panic was coursing through your veins as your mind raced, trying to make sense of how you had gotten from the library to his bed, your memories seemingly lost. A sob wretched from your throat as you began to recall the assault, confusion and terror prevalent in the mix of emotions you were feeling.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart!" The Radio Demon emerged from the shadows in the far corner of the room, approaching you with an amused expression. "How are you feeling?" 

Instantaneous rage boiled to the surface, fracturing any hopes you had in appearing calm or indifferent to obtain the upper hand. "How the fuck do you think I'm feeling?!"

Alastor cocked a brow. "I would presume that you are experiencing a... oh, what's the word they use these days? 'Hangover'?"

If looks could kill, he would have been slain on the spot. Alastor appeared to be almost taken aback by your hostility as he examined your livid expression. Unshed tears threatened to spill over as your breath quickened. It was clear now what exactly you were feeling. Used, disgusted, and angry.

Had you not been so distracted by your own suffering, you might have noticed the apprehensive tilt of his head or the subtle concern in his gaze. Granted, it was difficult to truly determine anything that he was feeling behind that damned smile that never seemed to leave his face. It wasn't in his nature to be nurturing or caring in any way, so why would he even bother at this point? At least, that's what you told yourself.

The demon approached you, extending a helping hand. Wrenching yourself from beneath the blankets, you scrambled from the bed and took a defensive stance in front of him, cradling yourself with one arm while the other was outstretched, warding him off. "Don't. Touch. Me." It was a struggle to keep your tone steady as you swallowed back the tears in fear of appearing weak. Instead, you were forceful, your eyes blazing as you wished for nothing more than to watch him burn in the deepest, darkest pit of Hell. 

Confusion was etched in his features along with a hint of admiration. As he had openly admitted during your prior conversations, he enjoyed your brazen and stern disposition. You weren't a pushover by any means, and it was one of the reasons he took a liking to you.

"My apologies if I startled you. I was simply trying to aid you out of bed." His voice was infuriatingly calm. It enraged you that he could so easily appear unaffected. It was just another nail in his coffin lid that you intended to shut him in for the rest of eternity.

"After what you did to me?! You think that you can just assault me and then be all helpful ?! Like nothing happened?!" 

"...'Assault'?" he dragged the word out like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. "I'm afraid I'm not following." 

It was a knee-jerk reaction. Drawing your arm back, you swung it towards him forcefully, fully intent on punching him square in the jaw before he caught your first effortlessly in a gloved hand. "Hmm. It appears that we’re getting nowhere. You'll have to forgive me for what I'm about to do, my dear."

Before you could retaliate, he used your current position to drag you forward, catching you off-guard so that you unintentionally fell into him. "Now, let's see what's troubling you," he murmured, securing you tightly against him. He then placed his other hand on the top of your head while his eyes glowed with power as he sifted through your memories, just as he had done before when you had first arrived.

Unlike the last time, and much to your horror, you were fully conscious as he sought what he was after in your mind. Last night's occurrence was something that you wanted to repress and keep locked away deep in your subconscious, and yet there you were, watching it unfold before your eyes like it had happened all over again. 

For the first time since you had met him, his smile faltered. The edges of his ever-present grin turned down into a downright scowl. Gone was the amiable optimism and amused goading. The displeasure that crept into the Radio Demon's face was vivid and fierce. His hold around you tightened, numbing your skin under the pressure.

When he finally released you, he said nothing, his expression implacable as you stumbled back, hating that you had to relive last night's experience for his own amusement.

Except he looked far from amused. He looked downright murderous. The air around him crackled threateningly with static as his eyes flickered in and out of their horrifying dial-shaped irises, giving you goosebumps. 

Catching himself, as quick as his smile faded, it had returned to its natural upward state as he digested what he had just seen, contemplating his response.

Finally, he spoke, his eyes dark and piercing. "What happened to you," he spoke slowly and dangerously softly, the underlying rage palpable, "Will not go unpunished." 

Releasing a disbelieving huff, you barked back, "Are you delusional? What makes you think that-" 

"Stop. Talking." His voice had taken on a vicious edge as he took a step towards you, his hands folded tightly behind his back in restraint. "Listen to me carefully, precious. It wasn't real. It was a farce. It appears you've fallen victim to quite a potent Mickey Finn. Your ignorance as a living and breathing human has been taken advantage of, and the salacious activities that you believe occurred were no more than an outlandish hallucination."

Your eyes widened, searching his face for any indication of deceit. It couldn't have been your mind playing tricks on you... could it? It had felt so real...

Distracted by the revelation, you hadn't noticed that he had closed the gap between the two of you and was now within arms reach. "As I have mentioned countless times before, I have no intention of harming you. Take comfort in the fact that I do have morals, limited as they may be, and I would never force myself on anyone. Any part of myself," he emphasized, probably referring to the tentacles. Awkward. 

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that." Your voice came out barely above a whisper, the intensity of your stare expressing your feelings more than words ever could.

After a moment of reflection, he answered, "No, I suppose not." He looked almost disappointed behind his sinister smile. "Perhaps I can prove it to you."

Terror urged you to run, but curiosity kept you in place as he loomed above you, somehow rendering you paralyzed as he reached out to you yet again. This time, you allowed him to make contact as he trailed a finger along your shoulder, testing the waters. "Summon my shadow." 

Eyeing him skeptically, you scoffed, "And why would I do that?"

You wanted to defy him, purely out of spite, but the look on his face convinced you otherwise. Without further protest and finally putting your practice to use, you concentrated on making his staff appear. With a wave of your hand, it manifested in your arms. It was thrumming with magic, making your skin tingle beneath its touch. You didn't think you would ever get used to that.

"Okay?" you sneered, still not understanding what that would prove. "What does your shadow have to do with anything?"

He glared back at you, as if insulted by your implied cynicism. You stiffened, even though you knew his tactics were always meant to unsettle and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction, you couldn't help your small reaction.

"He sees what I see," he finally divulged. How vague.

Rather than push him for more answers, you knew that he would decline until his shadow was present. Closing your eyes, you beckoned for the creature to come forth and reveal itself before the both of you. 

The microphone perched at the top of the staff shook for a moment as a layer had peeled off from the stem, curling around your fingers before expanding and forming into an eerily-shaped mass of transparent sable, eagerly glancing back and forth between its masters.

The Radio Demon stepped forward, his formal posture never wavering as he nodded to the shadow, communicating with him telepathically. The creature's grin grew sickeningly more sinister as it registered the unspoken commands.

Without warning, it leapt at you, surrounding you in darkness. Before you could even scream, your vision blurred and you were suddenly transported elsewhere.

"Hey, Al. You gotta minute?"

That voice... It sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite place it yet. 

"Why, for you, Husker, I have an eternity." 

Wait a minute. This happened already. You remember this. 

As your vision cleared, you released a breath when you saw yourself standing with Charlie and Vaggie talking together in the hotel lobby. It was then you realized that you were viewing the memory from another perspective that wasn't your own. It was Alastor's.

His line of vision switched focus from you over to Husk who had beckoned him away from the scene. The two of them walked into an adjacent room, which appeared to be the kitchen.

Casually leaning up against the wall, Alastor gazed at Husk expectantly.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Husk's voice was harsh and accusatory. 

"Why, I haven't the faintest-"

"Cut the bullshit." 

Tension filled the air as Alastor's eyes narrowed at Husk's equally threatening glare.

Not waiting for a response, Husk continued, "You've never shown interest in anyone. Ever. Not unless they were a means to an end. So what's the deal, Al? Why are you infatuated with the girl? What are you planning? It can't be anything good." 

"I'm just being hospitable," the Radio Demon explained with thinly veiled facetiousness. "As you can well imagine, this has been quite the adjustment for our young friend. Come now, Husker. Is it a crime to provide comfort and aid?"

"You've never cared about anyone before, let alone their comfort levels." 

"That's not entirely true," Alastor countered, raising a finger to emphasize his point. "I often find delight in causing incredible discomfort ." 

The cat demon rolled his eyes before taking a deep and calming breath. "You know what I meant, you arrogant bastard. I'm not gonna stand here and argue semantics with you. Tell me the truth, or I'm outta here."

Alastor flexed his fingers in warning, which Husk had immediately noticed, but refused to back down. You noted that he was either incredibly brave, or had no regard for his own life as he challenged one of the most feared demons in Hell. 

"I have never lied to you, Husker." Just as the cat demon opened his mouth to argue, Alastor held up his hand to silence him. "I will admit that I am not always an open book, but I've never been untruthful. Not to you, old friend." His tone was wry but you weren't sure if he was joking, and by Husk's expression, neither could he.

Alastor outright laughed at his friend's scowl, angering the feline further. "I shit you not, Al. If I find out that you pulled me outta nowhere just to watch you sabotage the chance of returning a breather to where she belongs, I'll hurl you straight into the Seventh Ring myself."

The Radio Demon inclined his head, eyes crueler than you had ever seen them. "I hardly think that’s necessary," he replied coldly. "I'm surprised at you, losing your head over a girl. Here you scold me for supposedly showing uncharacteristic interest when you yourself are expressing abnormal compassion. I believe that's the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn't you say?"

A growl erupted from the cat. "I haven't lost my head! I'm just tired of inadvertently helping you fuck people over! I'm old and was happily retired until you 'volunteered my services' here. I don't really care about what happens to the girl. I care about what happens to me when the other overlords, or worse, Lucifer finds out what you're up to. Because I know it's something. I've known you too long to buy into your bullshit."

Alastor was picking at his sleeve now, showing no interest whatsoever in their conversation any longer. "Curiosity killed the cat, Husker," he chided, a warning masked with malevolent pleasantness.

Husk's eyes flashed. "I'm already dead, you sanctimonious prick."

"Calm yourself and have a drink, my friend," Alastor insisted. With a twirl of his finger, a bottle of booze appeared on the counter next to the cat. Husk eyed it with interest before ignoring it, which must have taken a lot of willpower from what you knew about him. "You cannot fool me. I know that somewhere behind all of that fur and loathing is a heart, bitter as it may be." 

"I lost the ability to love years ago," he spat.

"And yet, here we are, having this discussion."

"Al, be straight with me," Husk practically pleaded. "Whatever insane plan you are concocting up in that certifiable brain of yours, don't get in over your head. I know you think you're indestructible, but you're not. Don't be an idiot." 

"I've indulged this conversation long enough. Trust me, my feline cohort. When the time is right, all will be revealed. Until then, be mindful of my privacy." His expression was downright feral, actually making you concerned for Husk's well-being.

Rather than be intimidated, Husk sighed deeply, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. "Fine, Al. Have it your way." 

Alastor was quiet for a moment, eyeing what was probably one of the very few friends that he had with consideration before he spoke again. "Must we argue? Come, you must show me how you managed to achieve a Full House with a joker in your hand. I'm sure it's a delightful tale."

Time somehow sped up during his retelling of his evening. You witnessed as he and Husk engaged in friendly banter while Husk showed off his poker and drinking skills. Though there was still a touch of hostility in the air, they were able to enjoy each other's company regardless. It was almost endearing to see Alastor enjoying himself with someone he considered a friend. 

The other thing you had noticed was that it had been hours that they spent together, which would have been while you were supposedly being assaulted in the library. 

After a few hands of poker, the two decided to pack it in for the night and were headed to their rooms. That's when they heard groaning coming from the library as they passed. 

"The fuck was that?" Husk asked aloud, his words slightly slurred from his excessive intake of alcohol. 

"Hmm..." Alastor hummed aloud. "Let's investigate, shall we?" 

Opening up the door to the library, they found you sprawled on the floor, unconscious and smelling very strongly of liquor. 

Husk chuckled at your inebriated state, having been in that situation many times himself. "Musta had a tough day. This wasn't your doing, was it?"

Alastor seemed offended by the accusation. "I assure you, I had no part in this." He tsked in disapproval, shaking his head in pity at you. "I suppose we should assist the poor thing." 

Husk narrowed his eyes at him. "Be careful, Al." His words had a double meaning. 

With a knowing smirk, the Radio Demon bent down and gathered your limp body in his arms as he lifted you with ease. "Sleep well, my friend," he called over his shoulder as he carried you effortlessly up the stairs, completely surpassing your room and continuing down the hall to what you had assumed was his own. 

He then used his powers to pull back the sheets on his bed before laying you down with uncharacteristic tenderness. You released a hiccup as you settled in, making him grin. 

Tucking you under the covers, he paused for a moment to stare at you as he stood tall next to the bed. His eyes took in every part of you before he hesitantly brushed back a piece of hair covering your face. He then grabbed a book from his nightstand and retreated to the far corner of the room, where he sat in a lounge chair, and silently began to read his book, seemingly perfectly content.

None of it made sense. If Alastor wasn't with you in the library, who were you with? Why would they trick you and make you think you were assaulted by Alastor? Also, why was Husk so worried about you? Better yet, why would Alastor just reveal to you his private conversation with Husk? Could you even trust that any of it was real? Wait... where did Alastor sleep last night? Did he even sleep? What was going on?!

The room suddenly went dark, pulling you out of the vision and throwing you back into the present. 

Alastor's shadow retreated from you, hovering beside you with a proud and equally wicked grin. You released a breath that you didn't realize you were holding as you forced yourself to meet Alastor's expectant gaze as he waited for validation. 

Underlying his suspicious demeanor and behind his obvious machinations was the undeniable fact that he was telling the truth. You couldn't explain how you knew. Something in the way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know.

"T-that was... I mean, I can't... " The words were caught in your throat as you came to terms with what was right in front of you. "I could have sworn it was you..." You had to look away then, shame and embarrassment making your face flush.

"Hardly a complimentary comparison," he jeered spitefully. "So you assumed I was a sexual deviant intent on having my way with you after rendering you incapacitated?"

You looked up then and immediately wished you hadn't. Judging from the thinly-veiled darkness in his expression, he was genuinely insulted, and it made you sweat under his heated gaze.

"It was the work of a coward," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I hold myself in a higher regard. Should that be something I wanted to engage in, I would do so without the need to hinder your mind."

The surge of excitement that went through your body at his words made you sick. Even after what you had experienced, regardless of the fact that it wasn't even him that did it, something inside of you craved that part of him. You were demented. You were gross. You were-

"Don't think I haven't considered it." 

Your head shot up, your feelings of self-loathing interrupted by his admission. 

"C-considered what?" 

"Making you mine." 

Sucking in a breath, you tried to quickly collect yourself, desperately trying not to let him show the affects his words had on you. "You... you've already tried."

"Hmm, not quite," he cooed, taking a predatory step toward you. 

"Why would you even say that?" you stammered, trying to make sense of him. "I know that you don't have romantic partners. Intimacy doesn't interest you. We've already been through this." 

"Indeed. However, it interests you." 

"I mean... yeah. But first of all, you’re a cartoon. I don’t even understand the mechanics of our anatomy here. To be honest I’m not really sure if I want to go down that road. Even if we could… uh… do stuff, I can’t imagine that you would get any satisfaction out of it. No one wants to be used like that-"

"You presume to know what I want or what I will obtain from an amorous endeavor with you," he cut you off, still approaching you. Whether you were too stubborn or too terrified to move, your legs had refused to operate. It was probably the latter. "You see, I enjoy pleasure in many different forms. Engaging in physical intercourse for my own gratification? No. I do not fancy that in the slightest. Making you squirm and watching you beg, completely at my mercy when I make you come undone by my own hands? Undoubtedly."

The words didn't even get a chance to sink in before he descended upon you. Without warning or waiting for permission, his head dipped and he kissed you.

His lips were firm and soft against your own as he devoured you - as if he had something to prove. The kiss had been quite different from the awkward turned hungry one you'd had before. It took you by surprise in a way it shouldn't have. Then again, everything Alastor did took you by surprise, and you weren't sure if you were ever going to understand him or his actions. 

Acting on instinct, you clutched his jacket, drawing him closer to you as he responded in kind, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you closer while the other cupped your cheek. You felt him smirk against your lips, like it was the kiss of a victor.

Reality slowly came crashing down, causing you to break the kiss, pulling back with a sigh. Alastor rested his forehead against your own for a brief moment, though you suspected it wasn't to catch his breath. Your body was still quivering, much to your chargin, so you stepped back to distance yourself. He released you without complaint, his crimson eyes locked onto your own as you collected yourself.

You had hoped that a change of subject would alleviate some of the intensity of the situation. "So, um... who would want to make me think it was you in the library last night? What was the point? Who has that kind of power?"

His posture stiffened so suddenly, it caught you off-guard, his face losing all traces of its earlier effervescence. The malignant veil was back in place and as terrifying as ever.

"I cannot yet say for certain," he began, the hostility in his voice evident as he smiled saccharinely, his eyes black voids in his pale face. "But I have an idea of where to start." -------------------------------------------

Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88 @utterly-disappointing @opheliuva @trinswhimsys @skylarhedges @whogavebrynjolfpermissiontobehot @sailor-earth-1 @letmefallalone @libellule2001 @aceisbase

[sevensstories]

A Bottle of Courvoisier

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Angel Dust, Alastor Ships: Radiodust Updates: One-shot, y’all! Warnings: Alcohol mention, soft gore mention, mature language

Follow the link to read it on AO3, or just read it under the cut!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673123

Alastor liked cognac.

Alastor liked fucking cognac.

Angel Dust would have never in a million years guessed that as Alastor's drink of choice. The blood of the innocent maybe, but not cognac. Not alcohol period. He was always so composed, so cold and calculated, that when he stumbled upon the radio demon nursing an empty bottle of Courvoisier at the hotel bar he was too shocked to even comment. Husker was nowhere to be seen, and Alastor was…

Well, to put it lightly, Alastor was plastered.

He didn't realize that at first, though. Alastor had his arms up on the bar and his face nestled in the crook of his elbow, like he was trying to take a nap. Angel Dust really just wanted to keep walking, but something stopped him. Something wasn't right.

"Al?" No response. "Hey, Alastor. You alright there, pal?"

Alastor made a sound that was a mix between a hum and radio static. Well, at least it was a response. Angel Dust leaned against the bar and tried to peek at Alastor's face, making sure to keep his distance. He didn't need to lose an arm just because he was caught being soft and doing something stupid. Really, really stupid.

"Alastor? Heh, you're not nappin' on the job, are you? Cause I don't think Charlie would-- WHOA!"

Angel Dust yelped as a lanky arm was thrown over his shoulders, Alastor pulling him down so their cheeks were pressed together. "Angel Dust, my good man! I was wondering when you would saunter my way!"

"You, uh, ya were…?" Angel Dust did not miss the flush in Alastor's cheeks and the scent of alcohol on his breath.

"Well of course I was! I've been starved of your company!" Alastor nuzzled his cheek, voice crackling with uncontrolled static. "That was quite cruel of you, my fellow, quite cruel indeed."

"You. Wanted to spend time with me." Angel Dust's tone was as dry as the bottom of Alastor's bottle. "Okay, now I know you're wasted. Why don't we, uh, why don't we get you to your room, yeah? Before anyone sees you like this and you murder me when you sober up."

"Oh, buy my dear Angel Dust, why would I ever do that?" Alastor looked at him with laughable innocence.

Angel Dust grabbed Alastor around the waist and hoisted him out of his chair. Luckily having extra arms made guiding drunk murder machines all the easier. "Uh, 'cause ya hate me? 'Cause I'm too flirty, and ya think I'm gross, and the only reason ya haven't killed me yet is it would be a PR nightmare for the hotel?"

Much to Angel Dust’s surprise, Alastor didn’t even hesitate to lean against him. The warmth radiating from the radio demon should have been concerning, but Angel Dust had never really gotten close enough to him to know whether or not this was normal. For right now it was probably best to just ignore it. Luckily, Alastor’s room was just down the hall so he wouldn’t have to risk his hide for too long. He started walking, Alastor’s stumbling footsteps sounding beside his.

Alastor’s smile faded a bit, though not completely. In truth, Angel Dust had never seen him without it. “Oh that’s not true, not true at all! I quite like you, you know.”

Angel Dust snorted. Yeah, Alastor was definitely drunk off his ass. “Oh yeah? Since when?”

“Since…” Alastor paused, pursing his lips a bit. “Well, since never I suppose.” The grin came back full force, and he looked up at Angel Dust with a level of enthusiasm usually reserved for schemes and carnage. “But I like you very much right now! What a wonderful friend you are, braving the spinning hallways just to get me to my room!”

“They’re only spinning for you, pal.” Angel Dust stopped at Alastor’s door. “Speaking of your room, we’re here so I’ll just leave you to i--”

“Oh nonsense!” Alastor shoved the door open and dragged Angel Dust inside with a strength that would have been very useful during the walk over. “Come in, come in! I could use the company you know.”

Angel Dust did his best to stop himself from being dragged into the room, but Alastor was stronger than he expected. Well, at least he had tried. “I mean, if you insist I guess.” He glanced around the room, taking note of the red and black decor. Not many surprises there. It was simpler than he expected, his only furniture being a wardrobe, dresser, bed, and nightstand. A small, old-timey radio sat on the dresser and a lamp rested on the nightstand. But the bed, oh the bed, it made even Angel Dust jealous. Black pillows, a black, plush comforter, and red sheets. Were those silk? If they were… well, that had implications.

He briefly wondered how painful his death would be tomorrow when Alastor was sobered up.

“Oh but I do!” The garbled static pulled Angel Dust from his thoughts. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Angel Dust glanced around the room once again. “Yeah, Al, I don’t know if ya noticed, but you don’t got any chairs.”

“No, but the bed will do just fine.” As if to emphasize his point, Alastor sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him.

“Ah-ha, ya know, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Angel Dust said with a nervous smile, taking a small step backwards. He liked keeping his arms on his body, and he was sure he’d have more than enough to answer for in the morning as it was. That was, if Alastor even remembered this. He was pretty toasted. “I think I’m gonna head back ta my room, but thanks for the invite. Really.”

Angel Dust was not at all prepared for what came next.

Alastor’s smile faded. In its entirety. He looked horribly disappointed, so much so that his ears actually pressed back. Angel Dust had never seen them move before, he was almost convinced they weren’t actually ears but just immobile tufts of hair. Alastor glanced down, his disappointment reflecting in his tone in a way that made Angel Dust’s heart ache. “Ah, yes, I… I suppose this is awfully imposing. Expecting you to stay when I’m sure you have somewhere else to be, and I have been less than kind to you in the past.”

“Exactly!” Angel Dust said, a tad too eagerly. “So I should probably go, and I…” He trailed off, taking in the heartbreaking expression on Alastor’s face. A demon famous for carnage should not be able to pull off puppy eyes. “...oh God damn it. Fine.”

Angel Dust didn’t miss the way Alastor perked up when he sat next to him, both sets of arms crossed. “But I want booze, ya hear me? I’m not doing this sober.”

“Oh but of course!” The grin was back, a glimmer of excitement lighting up Alastor’s eyes. “What’s your poison? I’m sure I can come up with something that’s to your liking.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say somethin’ sweet is a bit much for ya right now,” Angel Dust mused. He considered a moment before speaking again. “Ya know what? I’ll take whisky. It’ll be like old times.”

Alastor snapped and Angel Dust was holding a bottle of Whisky. Well, wasn’t that just nifty. “Old times, you say? Was this your drink of choice?”

“Choice is a strong word.” Angel Dust uncapped the bottle and took a swig, the liquor burning his throat like a trail of fire.

Alastor’s smile turned inquisitive. “If you don’t like it, then why do you drink it?”

Angel Dust shrugged, taking another sip. Damn that was strong. “Habit. Ya gotta look tough when you’re in the mafia, ya know? Tough guys don’t drink frou-frou stuff.”

Alastor’s brows arched in surprise. “The mafia? You?”

Angel Dust sighed. This motherfucker. “I swear, you gotta be the one person in hell who don’t know. Yeah, I was a mobster before I died. That was my whole schtick. Just ‘cause Val don’t let me out on jobs doesn’t mean I don’t still got it.”

“The mafia…” Alastor mused, vacant stare drawn to his empty bottle. “I suppose, then, you have quite the body count.”

“What?” Angel Dust glanced over, taken off guard by the question. “Uh… yeah, I mean, I’ve killed people. Why?”

Alastor hummed, taking a sip from the now not empty bottle. When did that happen? “I supposed I just never pegged you for the type is all.”

“Not sure if I should be flattered or offended,” Angel Dust snorted.

“Probably both.” Alastor’s smile had a hint of fondness that Angel Dust wasn’t ready for. “Honestly, it’s an appealing thought.”

Angel Dust cocked a brow. “What, me killin’ people?”

Alastor nodded. “Quite. It was my specialty, after all.”

“Oh yeah?” Angel Dust took another swig, this one a bit longer. The soft haze of intoxication was beginning to mask the bitter tang of his drink. “Vaggie told me ya caused a lot of demons a lot of trouble. Blood and carnage and all that.”

“No no, not here,” Alastor waved him off, then paused. “...well, yes here, but that’s not what I was talking about. In life, I mean.”

Angel Dust froze mid-drink. In life? He put the bottle down and swallowed, glancing over at Alastor’s thoughtful expression. He could be wrong, but that one little tidbit of information was probably more than anyone else in the history of hell had ever gotten from the infamous radio demon. He was “shrouded in mystery”, as Vaggie had told him several times. “That, uh… that so?”

“Oh yes.” Alastor took another sip, wavering a bit. A responsible drinking partner would have taken his Courvoisier away and given him some water by now, as he was clearly drunk enough. Good thing he was with Angel Dust. “I was quite the prolific serial killer in my day. Sooo many bodies…”

Angel Dust found himself frozen, transfixed by the information he was being given and silently praying for Alastor to continue. Any insight to the enigma that was the radio demon was more than welcome. “That uh… that so?”

“Oh yes.” Alastor traced the pad of his thumb around the rim of his bottle, lost in his own thoughts. “Especially in the 20s. You know, you can read all the anatomy books you’d like, but nothing will ever teach you so much as having a corpse right in front of you.”

“...oh yeah?” Angel Dust was now wondering if he should have drank more to prepare for this conversation, because if Alastor admitted he was a necrophiliac he was going to lose his shit.

Alastor took another sip out of his bottle before nodding. “Believe me, I would know. For example, did you know that the eyes don’t close on their own, and if you attempt to force them they just open again? Or that the blood will pool to whatever side you leave the body on?” A dangerous smile played on his lips at the memories. “Or that the dead can sit straight up due to a misfire of nerves, very much startling the poor, unsuspecting serial killer chopping them to bits?”

Angel Dust felt himself relax a bit. Okay, not a necrophiliac, just a psycho. He could work with that. “Huh. I knew the eye thing, but not the other stuff. Got any other weird shit to share?”

Alastor looked up at him, absolutely delighted at his interest. “Oh, I most certainly do! I do hope you don’t have anywhere to be, because I could talk about this all night.”

Angel Dust let out a light laugh, setting his bottle down. No, he wanted to be sober for this. Or, at least as sober as he could be with what he already had. Alastor getting excited about someone listening to his weird-ass anatomy facts was oddly adorable, which was not something Angel Dust ever thought he would ever use to describe Alastor. “Go ahead, lay it on me.”

-xxx-

When Alastor said all night, he wasn’t kidding. Angel Dust glanced at the pocket watch Alastor had discarded onto the nightstand some time before. He groaned when he saw that it was just after four in the morning. Knowing Charlie, she was going to be getting him up bright and early. That would give him maybe a few hours of sleep, if he was lucky and could actually fall asleep fairly quickly.

That was, if he could even make it to his room.

Alastor had slumped over and passed out a few moments prior. That in of itself wasn’t all that strange, he had been more that drunk enough to pass out. If anything, with how many times Angel Dust suspected he had refilled that bottle of Courvoisier, he should have been out much sooner. No, the predicament Angel Dust found himself in had to do with where Alastor had passed out. Angel Dust was currently trapped, with Alastor clinging to his waist and nuzzling his shoulder. He wasn’t sure how exactly he should handle this. The smart thing to do would probably be to gently wake Alastor up, get him off, and pray that he didn’t remember any of it in the morning as he made his way to his own room. However, Alastor was surprisingly warm, and oh so comfortable…

A soft murmur caught his attention and Angel Dust looked down, just in time to catch Alastor mumbling in his sleep and a faint, genuine smile playing across his lips. Whatever he was dreaming about, one thing was for sure. He was damn adorable, and Angel Dust would hate to disturb him.

Well, shit. It looked like his mind was made up for him.

Angel Dust carefully lowered both of them so they were lying down, thanking any deity above that he had somehow managed to do so without waking Alastor. He shifted just a moment to get comfortable before relaxing a soft sigh. Yeah, okay, this was nice. Angel Dust closed his eyes, and let himself bask in this temporary moment of bliss.

He could worry about the consequences later. For now, for this moment, it was worth it.

[snarkybluechristian]

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 33

Vaggie woke up in the bed the next morning.  She sat up and looked down at her blue silk night slip groggily.  It took Vaggie a moment to remember what happened the night before, but when she did, she immediately dashed for the bathroom.

Vaggie banged on the wall and yelled, "Angel! Are you there?! Angel?!"

There was only silence as her answer.

In desperation, Vaggie ran out of the bathroom, across her room, and tried the door.  To her surprise, it was unlocked.  It opened immediately.  Vaggie opened the door with a surprised expression on her face and dashed over to the room next door.  To her surprise, that door was unlocked, too.

Vaggie opened the door and dashed in only to discover that the room was empty.  Angel wasn’t there.  There was nothing in the room except for a bedside table with a lamp on top of it, an empty sitting area in an alcove by the window, and an empty bed backed up against the back wall.

Vaggie walked in and started looking around for any clues of Angel's whereabouts, but she had nothing to go on.  She walked into the bathroom and checked the vent.  Sure enough, it was empty.  That meant there was hope.

Vaggie turned around and saw Alastor standing right there under the doorframe.

“Hello, darling,” Alastor said with a pleasant smile.  “You're up earlier than usual."

Vaggie narrowed her eyes into a glare and asked, “Where's Angel?"

“He’s being prepared to be sold,” the Radio Demon answered without hesitation.  “The auction is tonight.  Remember?”

“Where is he?!” Vaggie quickly replied.

“Being prepared,” Alastor replied again, taking a step towards Vaggie and bending down until he was able to look her in the eyes.

Vaggie twitched her eye as she was starting to lose patience, "Where is he being prepared?"

Alastor smirked with a sadistic grin and said, "With Rosie."

Vaggie’s face contorted in fear and in anger as she yelled, “WHERE?!"

Alastor playfully cocked his head to the side and replied, I believe that that is none of your concern.  Now then..."  He tapped his staff on the ground and his familiars appeared. "We must get you ready.”

Vaggie pushed her way past Alastor and dashed through the room and into the hall.

Unfortunately, his familiars grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her back.  Vaggie struggled to break free from Alastor’s shadows, but once again, her efforts were fruitless.

"Let me go!!!!!" Vaggie screamed in between curses in Spanish.

Alastor walked up to Vaggie with his dominant and condescending smirk and said, “No, my dear.  You are going to be dressed by my familiars and are expected to be well-behaved today.  Now, let’s get you into your bathroom so we can get you cleaned up."

Vaggie snarled like a wild animal and tried to lunge at Alastor, but the familiars pulled her back into her room with ease.  Before she knew it, Vaggie was shoved into the bathroom and the door was locked behind her.

Realizing there was nothing she could do, Vaggie turned away to use the toilet, take a shower, and take care of all her other needs until the familiars finally let her out.

Once Vaggie emerged from the bathroom in her blue bathrobe and clean pair of underwear she found hanging on the doorknob, the familiars sat Vaggie down in the studio chair summoned in front of her vanity mirror and instantly got to work.  One familiar took care of drying her long hair and began to style the long threads of hair.  A couple of other familiars began to give Vaggie a manicure and pedicure, filing and painting the nails.

Yet another moved to the wardrobe and began sorting through dresses that Vaggie could wear before selecting one that was awfully familiar to Vaggie.  It was that damn dress he made her wear when he sang his disgusting reprise of Charlie's song.

Vaggie instantly recognized the dress from its reflection in the mirror she was looking into, twisted her face into a scowl, and said, “No, not that one!”

The familiars looked disappointed until Alastor appeared behind them and replied, "Yes, that one!"

Vaggie glared angrily at Alastor as she remembered how he had pushed her around when he spoke to Charlie for the first time and how he had even slapped her butt when he was singing...Oh, God...

Just then, Vaggie came to a horrible realization.

“Oh, God,” Vaggie said, feeling the bile rise in her throat.  “All the times you messed with me were your way of flirting?!"

Alastor smiled happily as he leaned against the wall next to the vanity and said, “So sharp!  That is what I love about you!  Finding the dots that connect!  Of course, I was in denial of my feelings back then…”

“Go fuck yourself,” Vaggie interrupted, angrily staring at the wall on the opposite side of the vanity so she would not have to look at Alastor.

Unfortunately, Alastor teleported into Vaggie’s line of vision and said, “So bold, my darling.  That is another trait I love.”

“If your familiars weren’t restraining me…” Vaggie snarled.

Alastor chuckled and said, “Vaggie, my love, I only wanted to see how you were doing…”

“Great,” Vaggie interrupted sarcastically with an eye roll.  “Now, tell me where Angel is or go away.”

“But then you wouldn’t get breakfast or lunch,” Alastor appeared next to the vanity and retorted.

“Okay,” Vaggie huffed.  “Where’s the food then?”

Alastor disappeared again only to show up back in the doorway and replied, “It’ll be waiting in the dining room with me.  My familiars will escort you there when you’re done being all made up.”

“Fantastic,” Vaggie muttered sarcastically.

“I’ll be waiting in the dining room,” Alastor sang out merrily before he walked back down the hall, leaving Vaggie to her “pampering.”

After what felt like an eternity of preparing with the familiars, Vaggie was finally allowed to go downstairs to join Alastor for brunch.  She threw open the doors to the dining room, stomped angrily into the room in her high heels, and waited for him to notice her.

The deer demon looked up from the plate of food he was eating and dropped his fork.  His breath was taken away.  Vaggie looked every bit as beautiful as she did when he dressed her for the reprise of Charlie’s song.

“My dear Vaggie,” Alastor said clapping his hands together and holding them against his face as his lips curled into a sweet smile.  “You are absolutely breath-taking!”

Vaggie only responded with a scowl and sat down at her spot on the other side of the table.

“Oh, do try the tarts!  They’re delectable!” Alastor said gesturing to the banquet of food in front of them.

Vaggie was silent as she began serving herself from the various food sets in front of her on her side of the table.  Meanwhile, Alastor verbally laid out his plans for the rest of the day.

Vaggie did not pay attention.  As she ate, all she could think about was Angel and where Rosie could have taken him.

Alastor quickly caught on to the concerns occupying Vaggie’s mind.  She had not said a word since she entered the room.

Alastor began asking her questions, but Vaggie only continued to eat as if he hadn’t said anything.

Alastor finally sighed in defeat and rang a bell that was sitting next to his plate.

Rosie immediately appeared in the room wearing a work dress with an apron over it.

Vaggie quickly perked up when she saw Rosie walk to the table.  From the look of the overlord, she looked like she was busy, terribly busy with Angel.

“Yes, Alastor?” Rosie asked, stopping hallway between Vaggie and Alastor.  “Is there something you need?”

Alastor gestured to Vaggie and said, “Vaggie here is quite worried about Angel.  Could you tell us how he’s doing?”

Vaggie looked at Rosie and listened intently now as she tightly gripped her glass of water.

“Oh, Vaggie.  Angel is doing well,” Rosie said looking back at Vaggie with a sadistic smile.  “He’s eating and drinking and using the bathroom as normal.  Angel’s fit as fiddle.  His only problem is that he doesn’t like his muzzle…or his straitjacket…”

Vaggie angrily squeezed her glass until it began to crack.

“Or his cage…”

Vaggie had enough.  She broke the glass of water she was holding in her right hand causing it to cut through her glove into her hand and making it bleed.  Vaggie then grabbed a shard of glass and sprung for Rosie.

Alastor snapped his fingers a a mass of black tentacles wrapped around Vaggie’s arms, holding her securely but gently.

Alastor then bolted out of his seat and rushed towards his angry fiancée who was thrashing desperately to escape the tentacles’ hold.

“Oh, my dear Vaggie, you’re hurt!” Alastor said, his facial features softening in concern.  “We must see to that wound right away.  Please stay still.  It’s bleeding.”

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Vaggie screamed as she angrily attempted to escape the tentacles that held her arms still.

Alastor summoned a container of an unknown substance and pulled Vaggie's glove off.  Rosie rushed over behind him with hand sanitizer for his hands.

After cleaning his hands, Alastor picked up the container, twisted it open, and said, “It is alright, my love. Your hand will be better in no time.”

Vaggie snarled and tried to yank her hand away, but the tentacle only moved her hand in front of her where Alastor could reach it.

Alastor chuckled as he dipped his hand into the container and said, “"Really, Vaggie, I am trying to help you.  I don't want you to get hurt."

Vaggie glared at Alastor and said, “Unlike Angel…”

“The little blue nose is getting what he deserves," Alastor said while rubbing the container’s contents on Vaggie’s hand.

Vaggie growled at Alastor angrily as he finished his work.

Alastor smiled happily as he soon as he saw the cut on Vaggie’s hand instantly heal and disappear without even leaving a scar.

“There we go,” Alastor said, pulling a clean white glove over Vaggie’s healed hand.  “All better.  Now, if we’re done eating, let’s take care of those last-minute preparations for the auction.”

“Do you need me for anything else, Alastor?” Rosie asked.

“That will be all for now, Rosie,” Alastor replied.  “You can go back to assisting Angel.  Don’t work too hard.  I wouldn’t want you to run out of time to prepare yourself for the night.”

“You know you don’t need to worry for me, dear,” Rosie replied merrily as she teleported away.

Alastor allowed Vaggie to pull her hand out of the tentacle’s grip.  She glared angrily in Alastor’s direction as he took her arm and walked her out of the dining room.

[hungryflowers]

Let Me Fall in Love With You

Title: Let Me Fall in Love with You

Rating: Teen

Relationship(s): RadioHusk

Continuity/Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Alastor, Husk

Warnings: Swearing, Gore and Maiming 

RadioHusk Week Prompt: Falling In Love

Alastor walked down the path through the woods at the right moment. Toothy, alligator chesire of a smile flitting in the low light. His outfit made it easy for him to blend in to the surroundings, the foliage of dead, decaying leaves masked him in deep shadows of orange and red. The woods would be barren. Without fail, nothing grew here for long. The territory was the only stretch of flourishing wildlands that kept up sparse flora. A perfect place to stage and stash a murder. These woods kept the Radio Demon spellbound by the way the Sinners would yowl and scream inside and around the woods. Tonight was no different... Well, he had been wrong before. 

Sprang from the woods was indeed a squawking sinner. Literally. It was a bird on a genus origin Alastor knew nothing of, but it was running. And it was running to him. Beside himself, Alastor did not move, did not beat the sinner away or show interest in the abandoned pleas. All he did was tilt his head to the side, his smile subduing as more closed, eyebrow arched in what could be confusion as he tried to make sure they did not touch him.

“You gotta help me! Please man! PLEASE!,” He wailed, feathers going everywhere as he tried to get Alastor to respond, “He’s gonna kill me! He already ripped off my feathers! You gotta save me!”

Alastor looked the poor gent over, seeing red intermingling in sea of blue and yellow. The green eyed bird was trying to get closer to the deer demon, to grab at him for leverage as its legs went underneath him. 

Alastor looked at the male bird, cleared his throat unhurried like and said, “My poor fellow sinner...”, Vindictive and snide were not the terms to be used as he poshly straightened his clothes and tempered his voice, “Whom is trying to kill you? After all, why would you go out into these woods and not expect to be attacked while on a stroll?” Alastor’s chest inflated as he swatted away the sinner’s grabby hands. He had no patience for this. The buffoon had ruined his quiet, he wanted it back.

“You don’t understand! He--”

A hissed snarl came from behind the two of them. Alastor’s ears came to attention of the sudden sound, as well as the rustle of under brush. There was stillness for all of four seconds when without warning a massive flurry of red and grey came thrashing out of the leaves and branches. 

Alastor suspected the creature be a lycanthrope of a kind. Such creatures were hellspawns and not uncommon when walking through the hollows, yet on second glance he noticed the form of the beast was not of canine, but of a felidae visage. It was slender but toned. Furry yet feathery at the same time. Paws larger than Alastor’s whole hands were decorated with deadly, serrated knives at each tip. It hissed, spat, snarled, growled wildly as it sped towards them. 

Alastor shoved the imbecile off his path at the same time the beast pounced on the sinner, who had been screaming the whole time. He continued to do as the feline began to rip the sinner into pieces; ivory claws going decorated with blood the color of red wine, teeth plunged into the poor beast’s flabby skin, tearing it in excess as the muscles and tendon came free with a wet squelch. 

“Help! Help me please! Oh God, why is this happening to me?!!” He brayed reaching out a claw to Alastor, him hoping he would reach with his own to save him. The large cat bit down on the arm, a hard crackling could be heard as the deer demon was certain he heard bones breaking. The screams confirmed as the limb went limp while it began to bite in and chew the limb right off his body. A weak sob came from the poor creature as it was wrenched from its socket, down the gullet of the cat. 

Alastor’s smile, he found, began to widen as he took part -visually- in the blood splatter and dismemeberment of the poor soul. He even giggled when the cat demon’s claws went right into the gut to slit gashes into the meat there. The cries became fainter and fainter as the creature began pulling out intestines and eating them right out of the warm body. 

The soil around them began to grow foul with the assailed brutal wounds, the life liquid spilling out as more organs; a fatty stomach, lower intestines and a kidney was ripped out and swallowed without a care for finesse. The white face of the cat demon was deeply red, the flavor of the color making Alastor want to walk up to the creature and lick it off his cheeks. The thought left as soon the cat’s golden teeth plunged into the sinner’s neck to rip out the trachea, ending the struggle completely. 

It was all over in a blink, the sinner was dead. Silent, save the droplets falling into the grass. 

In the quiet, the cat demon looked over to Alastor, who just now got a view of the feline’s incredibly intelligent looking, orange round eyes. The gleamed like firelight on a cadaverous winter tundra, filled with the malice of an angry spirit. 

Looking at him as he remained still, Alastor could see to him fully; his grey coat was like year old soot, chest -that was covered in deep red at the moment- was stagnantly white. On his neck appeared to be a bowtie that was dirtied by the crimson...or maybe it was crimson. The deer demon couldn’t tell from a distance. The beast’s ears were set wide apart and held high atop his head. His face held a permanent scowl of a snarl. 

“You’re gonna be next if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” A grizzled snarl of a voice was not what Alastor expected. It set the Radio Demon’s chest alight with something he can’t process. He huffed, wagged his cane and took one deliberate step to the feline.

“My, my quite the vulgarity you hold. I will be taking off on my merry way... for a boon, dear fellow.” His gaze stayed, eyes honing on the cat’s snarl. 

“The fuck’s that gotta mean?! Piss off or I’ll rip your stinkin’ guts out!” A louder growl as he skulked closer his tail, that was not seen before now, thrashing from side to side.

“Tut, tut. A boon is merely a gift. An exchange. All I ask of you is your name.” Another deliberate step forward. His voice still audible yet dipped a slight.

“My...name? How about yours, motherfucker!”

“Certainly! My name, dear fellow, is Alastor. The Radio Demon and most possibly the most dangerous sinner in Hell,” He boasted proudly as he laughed loudly, “Now may it get yours?”

The cat’s long eyebrows shot up, tail starting to stand as he examined the sinner. Pupils constricted a touch as he looked this ‘Alastor’ over. 

“Never heard of you. And that’s a pretty ballsy statement coming from a wacko looking son-of-a-bitch like you. Got yourself thinkin’ your hot shit, huh? You even own turf? You ain’t that dangerous if you can’t even take down no Overlords!” The male cat laughed, and laughed hard. So hard he put his paw over his face forgetting about the blood coating it. 

“You must be new... I’ve established enough territory that even these woods could be considered mine. Unless, you want to battle me for them.” A nonsensical bluff he blustered. Alastor knew better than to meddle with this sinner. His skin didn’t look to appetizing for his room tastes. 

“That right? Well, color me impressed. Tell you what, we ever cross paths again I might give that little ‘boon’ of yours. Till then, fuck off or I’ll eat you next.” The cat spat as magnificent wings spread out; the feathers a deeper red than the blood of his body and longer than the cat demon’s body. They took him off the ground with such grace as he disappeared into the blood red sky, leaving the deer demon in open-mouthed awe.

‘What a joyous encounter that had been! Not one for first impressions though.’ Alastor chuckled to himself as he walked away from the most spectacular scene of madness and murder ever displayed. They would cross paths sooner than the mysterious beauty thought. He’d make sure of it.

                                            ____________________

After months of wearing the feline sinner down, the moment of a lifetime had come to Alastor. The cat ran his giant paw over his face as he spoke into his bottle of booze. 

“What was that? I speak three languages but gargle isn’t one.”

Smartass. 

The cat swallowed his cheap swill slowly before looking Alastor right in his eyes.

“Husk.” Tone flat and deadpanned. 

Falling in love wasn’t something he planned on doing, but now no one was permitted to have Husk the way Alastor did.

A/N: Hello! I am late to RadioHusk week! A whole, freakin’ week late. Long story short, my computer’s charger broke and slowly my laptop just sat and died on me. I just a new one today and am now ready to begin my version of day one. Enjoy!!

[whisker-biscuit]

If You Can’t Beat ‘Em: Chapter 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: The water guns are back. And Alastor has come to visit. This won’t end well at all.

It had been about a week and a half since the water gun incident. The event itself had been fun, messy, and borderline homicidal, but cleaning up the lobby (as well as three hallways, a bathroom, and Angel Dust’s entire collection of adult film props) left everyone less than enthusiastic to repeat the experience.

It was around this time that the hotel got a fairly frequent visitor. Whether that visitor was fairly welcome was another matter entirely.

“Charlie-dear! Always a pleasure to see you in high and healthy spirits!”

Alastor breezed through the open front door with more pomp and grandeur than should have been possible. Patting Charlie on the head as one does a young child, he slid calculating eyes over every inch of the room.

“My, that’s a lovely new painting. Did your mother loan that one? She always did have an eye for quality.” The Radio Demon twirled his microphone staff clockwise as he circled in a slow counterclockwise. “You’ve cleaned as well, how darling! It almost looks respectable now.”

His gaze fell on Vaggie, who was standing in the nearest doorway with her arms crossed and her back rigid.

“Hello, my dear. Are you going to threaten me again?”

“No,” she said curtly, “but I still don’t trust you.”

The response was a leering glint to the ever-present smile. Vaggie bristled but didn’t say anything else.

“Ah, I’m sorry to sound rude,” Charlie stepped up in an attempt to peace-make. “It’s uh…good to see you but, we weren’t really expecting this today? To see you here, I mean. Is there a reason you’re here? Maybe?”

Alastor tilted his head. “I’m simply here to check in on my associates! What other reason could I possibly entertain?”

“Sure, because ‘checking in’ is what you’re known for.” Vaggie made parenthesis with her fingers.

The Radio Demon’s eyes became half-lidded, and he gave a mock bow in the girl’s direction. “You’ve caught me at my best today, I suppose. Charlie, should I expect everyone else to be this discourteous?”

The princess opened her mouth to give a reassurance, but it was this moment that Vaggie was pushed out of her spot in guarding the doorway by a spindly, spidery hand.

“Why you blockin’ the way, Toots? Some of us got somewhere to be!” Angel Dust sneered at the girl he’d misplaced. She caught herself before she hit the ground and spat a Spanish curse at him.

“Angel,” Charlie clasped her hands together. “We have a guest, please be polite!”

The spider demon locked eyes with Alastor, who leaned lightly on his cane and gave a derisive little wave.

“The hell are you doing here?”

“Angel,” Charlie wrung her hands together. “Be nice.”

“It’s quite all right, my dear,” the Radio Demon said, looking down his nose. “He’s welcome to express himself in whatever vulgar, childish manner he desires.”

Angel huffed and crossed his top arms over his chest. The lower pair was planted on his hips. “I’ll have you know I’m only childish on Wednesdays, so there.” He stuck his tongue out for good measure and sniffed the air.

“Anywaaaay,” the princess sing-songed, trying to get the conversation back together. “You said you came by for an update, right? How about I…give you a tour of what we’ve changed since you were here last? Does that sound? Okay?”

“Downright darling, dearie,” Alastor purred. He grinned at everyone in the room. “Although I must ask; will it be an entourage today? You know I love an audience, but these listeners rarely tune in to my particular program.”

“Um, well?” Charlie turned towards her partner. “Do you mind sitting this one out? I’m sure everything will be just swell.”

Vaggie glared at the floor a moment before coming to a personal compromise. She sighed and nudged Angel to get his attention.

“You’re going on the tour with them.”

“What? No I’m not, I’ve got better things ta do!” He stared at her, incredulous.

“Sure, and the best thing is knowing what’s new with the hotel so if someone asks you about it, you can tell the truth for once in your life. Besides,” she held up a finger when he tried to protest, “you still owe me for bailing you out of that bad deal with your client last weekend.”

Angel made a frustrated noise and threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! Fine. You just want me to play bouncer for your girl, I’ll do it. But we’re even after this.”

“Fine with me,” Vaggie put a gentle hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “I’ll be making lunch down the hall, don’t…be afraid to let me know if you need me.”

“You know I won’t,” the princess gave a reassuring smile in response.

The demon girl hummed and, with a final distrustful glower at the unwelcome guest, left the room. The three remaining demons stood in silence until they couldn’t hear angry footsteps any longer.

“Well then, let’s get to it!” Charlie announced cheerfully.

So that was how they went from room to room; Charlie pointing out improvements made since Alastor’s last visit, the Radio Demon cocking his head at each display without saying a word, and Angel trailing behind the whole time like a pouting child. Soon they reached the door to the hotel pub.

“Oh, and we’re almost done renovating the bar, too! We just need to change some of the wallpaper and it’ll look good as new, Husk has been so excited about it even though he won’t admit it.”

“How marvelous! You won’t mind if I go take a look, would you, my dear? And Husk will be over the moon to see me, I’m sure.”

The princess started playing with her suspenders. “Well, funny thing about that, you can’t talk to Husk cause he’s –”

“Uhh, sweet cheeks, the guy’s already gone,” Angel drawled, pointing at the large doors leading to the bar. They were swinging closed.

Charlie wavered only a moment before shaking her head and striding after the Radio Demon. She found him standing in the middle of the room, clearly looking for his former associate. The girl stepped behind him and cleared her throat as the spider demon sauntered to her side.

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to talk to Husk for a while.”

“Half-seas over, I take it?”

“Uhh…” She looked over at Angel, who mimed chugging a drink. “Oh. Well he actually went out a few hours ago sooooo I don’t think he’s drunk? Or I hope not. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I do know that he’s not here.”

“Lovely! Some other time then, perhaps.” Alastor made his way behind the bar. “I see he still keeps everything disheveled back here. I had hoped you would curb him of that habit, but – oh, what might this be?”

He bent at a perfect ninety-degree angle and stood back up holding a water gun. Charlie felt her brow furrow in surprise as she joined the Radio Demon behind the counter. There were five or six of the colorful toys hidden past a line of Jack Daniel’s. There was also a post-it note, scrawled with ‘find where Niffty hid hers.’

“I was wondering where these went,” the princess said, stooping to grab one herself. “Why’d Husk take them?”

Angel Dust snorted and sat down on a barstool. “Cause he fucking hates getting wet. You try having fur that thick and soaking for hours, it sucks ass.”

“But you were playing with us that day. You’ve got a lot of fur too.” Charlie set the gun onto the bar counter and eased her elbows along the polished wood, putting her chin in her hands.

Neither of them paid any attention to Alastor, who turned the toy this way and that with his head angled in their direction.

“Cause it was hot as balls and someone shot me! I ain’t about ta be insulted like that.” The spider demon fluffed out his chest. “Already got wet, didn’t have nothin’ else to lose.”

“You almost lost your…adult paraphernalia.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault! Niffty was the one who went after my stuff, the dirty cheater bitch.”

Charlie glanced nervously at Alastor, worried he might have objections to his associate’s name being slandered, but the Radio Demon only grinned. She gave a weak laugh and turned back to Angel.

“Well that’s why I wanted us to play outside, but you wouldn’t listen. And now you know better, so you can’t be complaining anymore.”

“I wasn’t –”

Whatever else Angel meant to say was cut off when a spray of water hit his face so hard it knocked him backwards off the barstool. He crashed onto the carpet and wheezed. Charlie whipped her head around to see Alastor hefting the water gun with an intrigued slant to his smile.

“My, what a remarkable contraption! Water for bullets, what will they think of next?” He spun the toy into the air and caught it with his cane, balancing it on the microphone top.

Charlie pursed her lips and peeked over the counter to see the spider demon wiping liquid out of his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck no I’m not okay!” He snarled, craning his head to glare up at both of them. “The fuck was that for?!”

“An investigation, my fine fellow, merely a formality.” The Radio Demon spun the toy again. “Are you going to try to shoot me back?” He looked incredibly smug.

The princess of Hell shook her head frantically as Angel’s face closed off. He glanced her way briefly before turning to Alastor.

“Maybe I will, huh?! Maybe I fucking will!” He hoisted himself up by the barstool to a standing position and snatched the water gun Charlie had left on the countertop. He lifted it –

And got blown back again as the Radio Demon shot him point blank in the chest. Angel skidded against the carpet and blinked dazedly while the princess spun around to Alastor.

“How are you doing that! Stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what, Charlie-dear?” He chuckled, turning the gun her way when she took a step towards him. “I’m only partaking in this intriguing game you’ve been playing of late. I wonder why no one was cordial enough to invite me.”

Charlie jumped as Angel ran to the end of the room and pulled open the doors.

“Don’t just stand there, Charlie! RUN!” And then he was out of the bar into the unknown.

She jumped again when Alastor placed a feathery touch to her shoulder. He was watching the swinging doors with something ancient and predatory.

“Your client is savvier than he first appears, I must say.” The Radio Demon hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose I can give him a sporting chance for that. Charlie-dear, I can’t expect you to play along if you aren’t abiding the rules. Be a bird and arm yourself, will you?”

Whistling a merry tune, Alastor spun the water gun once more around his microphone and stepped towards the doors, leaving Charlie confused and vaguely terrified.

Vaggie was in the kitchen when she heard Angel scream for Charlie to run. Adrenaline burst through the girl’s every muscle and she shot out into the hallway, nearly running into the spider demon as he blindly tore past her. She managed to grab his arm and forced him to stop.

“Where’s Charlie?! Is Alastor hurting her?!”

“If that fucker got her then it’s not my fault!” Angel snarled breathlessly. “I warned her to run!”

Vaggie would have shook him hard to make him reveal where Charlie was, but her brain stalled as something shiny and colorful in the spider demon’s hands caught her attention.

“What – what’s this?”

“Oh, oh yeah, you probably think she’s dead now,” he finally stopped panting and showed her the water gun. “The Pink Pimp found these and wants to play, I guess. But the stuff he shoots fucking hurts! I’d say they were made of wood or some shit if I didn’t know better.”

“So she’s safe? She’s alright?”

“Hell if I know,” Angel looked nervously down the hall. “But I’m not sticking around to find out. I ain’t getting shot again, so either help me or get out of my way.”

The girl opened her mouth, then closed it as she heard the distinct sound of Alastor’s boots treading along carpet, somewhere out of sight but still far too close for comfort. She shared an honest look of unease with Angel.

And that was how Vaggie found herself crammed beside the spider demon in the hotel dumbwaiter.

The door was closed, but there was a small opening slot where Angel had taken up watch with his water gun held under his chin and ready to fire. It was rare to see him so serious, but Vaggie wasn’t going to say anything, stuck here like this. Instead she pretended not to stare as a black eye blossomed around his face and felt the way they both trembled.

It didn’t take long for the Radio Demon to enter the kitchen. He was spinning a water gun by its trigger around his cane, looking for all the world like a dapper gentleman on a Sunday stroll. He paused once as if considering something, then made a motion with his hands and conjured up a shimmering green symbol. It disappeared almost immediately, but there was no time to consider what it was meant for.

Vaggie watched as Angel took the shot carefully, lining up his nozzle right between Alastor’s eyes. She held her breath, afraid that the spider demon might die for such an action but even more afraid that Alastor would catch them first and they’d lose this chance.

The spider demon’s eyes narrowed and he pulled the trigger. They watched as the stream of water went sailing for the Radio Demon, who saw it far too late to move out of the way.

He dodged it a different way. His head snapped backwards until it hit his spine, and the water flew harmlessly above him and into the far wall.

Angel and Vaggie watched in abject horror as Alastor reached behind him and physically pulled his head and neck up to something more autonomically possible. He cracked his head towards one shoulder, then the other, and stared at the two of them through their little slot.

“Commendable effort, truly, but you’ll have to try harder than that.”

The Radio Demon advanced towards the dumbwaiter and Vaggie grabbed ahold of the pulley rope, frantically tugging at it until she and Angel were propelling to a higher floor. They heard delighted laughter echo up after them.

“Very well, a strategic retreat! No doubt we’ll see each other soon, and continue the game again! Best of luck to you both!”

“Move faster!” Angel hissed in the girl’s ear. “He’s gonna try and cut us off!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” She hissed back, frantic and frustrated. The spider demon growled.

“Here, just let me do it!” He grabbed the rope with all four hands, then with a sickening squelch another pair grew out of his body, just above his hips. Those hands also took hold of the pulley and soon the dumbwaiter was flying up through floors.

“What should we do?” Vaggie gripped the corners of two walls as best as she could, trying to maintain her balanced crouch.

“I dunno, I’m the shoot-first-get-high-later kind of guy, not sharp in the smarts kinda way.”

“Oh I’m well aware of that fact.” She ignored the following insult hurled her way. “First priority is finding Charlie and making sure she’s safe. If we find Niffty, we’ll warn her too.”

“Okay, alright, I can work with that!” Angel stopped pulling the rope and they squeaked to a halt in a dilapidated-but-once-fancy room. The two hopped out and surveyed their location.

“Alright then,” Vaggie rubbed her shoulders, then held out one hand. “If I’m going to protect anyone, then I’ll need a weapon too. You help me get to wherever the water guns are stored and find Charlie, and I’ll watch your back. Truce?”

The spider demon stared at the offered hand in clear surprise. Then he gave a grim, dark smile and took the handshake. “Truce.”

Meanwhile, Charlie was running herself ragged trying to find a sign of where Alastor – or anyone really – had disappeared to. She couldn’t let someone get hurt. She couldn’t let Alastor hurt anyone was the priority, honestly, because whatever he’d done to the water guns was enough to be dangerous from the way she’d seen Angel panic.

She ended her search on the fifth floor with no luck and ran into the stairwell, only to catch Alastor inside with one foot paused in the air. His head was twisted around in her direction; no doubt he’d heard the way she was tearing through the building. With a little whistle he turned to face her directly.

“Still not armed I see. Oh well, if you insist on refusing to play by the rules then there’s no choice but to leave you to your disadvantage!”

“Alastor, please, I’m not here to fight! I just wanted to talk!” Charlie pleaded as the Radio Demon advanced towards her. Her hands were held up in defenseless desperation.

“Talks of peace? Why you’re cute as a bug’s ear, dearie! But that’s not quite enough, I’m afraid.”

He took another step, eyes flickering pitilessly, and then suddenly went very still. His head tilted exactly forty-five degrees to the right, and Charlie heard what had caught his attention – Niffty was giggling somewhere up the stairs. There was no doubt she was watching them.

“Well! If it isn’t one of my associates! I should swing by and say hello!”

Alastor grinned wide as the giggles cut off abruptly, and he turned to head up to a higher floor, leaving Charlie once again. Except this time she was much more terrified. And much more determined to protect her hotel residents.

She sprinted up the stairs after him.

“My oh my, where could everybody be? I’d assumed this was a hunting game, not a hiding game. Oh, but I suppose that’s the same thing when you really think about it!”

Alastor took a right and found himself in an unfamiliar hallway. Here he caught Niffty, hanging off the doorknob of an open door a ways down. She shrieked and slammed it closed, and he approached only to find she had locked him out.

“Phonus Balonus! Barricading yourself away isn’t sporting!” He tapped the door twice with the water gun, then proceeded to smash it through the wood completely, providing an open hole for him to stick his head through. “I thought I taught you better!”

Niffty was huddled in the left corner of the room with her own gun in hand. The moment Alastor’s grinning face appeared she screamed-giggled at the top of her lungs and pulled the trigger, a demented smile smudged across her visage. The Radio Demon pulled his head out just in time to avoid being hit, then knocked the door down completely.

From down the hallway, Charlie skidded to a halt just in time to see Alastor step into Niffty’s room. The screaming inside raised in pitch and then tapered off like an omen. The princess, fearing the worst, ran to the doorway and ended up colliding with the Radio Demon as he emerged again.

Charlie fell back on her butt, hands splayed behind to keep her upright. She stared up at Alastor, who hadn’t even flinched from the hit and was leaning lightly over his microphone with a reserved smile on his face.

“I suppose I have a confession to make,” He purred, eyes half-lidded. “You asked me why I came to visit today, and I gave a sort of half-truth. I was not simply interested in the wellbeing of my associates. I also arrived in the hopes to find some entertainment.”

“E-Entertainment?” The princess squeaked.

“Precisely! You have such a knack for it, and these last few days have been so dreary, I couldn’t resist the temptation. And lo and behold! Here you were, partaking in an enchanting little game of mayhem. How could I say no?”

“But, we weren’t actually playing that game anymore though, it – we finished!”

“Oh dearie, how you slay me!” Alastor raised his cane and tapped Charlie lightly on the nose. In the same motion he pulled a water gun from behind his back. “But it’s never over until the canary is dead.”

The gun was cocked. His face split in two.

“And frankly, songbird, you’re still moving.”

Two hours later, Alastor was in quite high spirits. He nimbly tapped around splintered wood and a limp spider demon, making his way to the hotel’s entrance.

He whistled a jaunty tune as he removed the curse from the front door, watching its shimmering green hue dissipate into nothing. With a sadistic lilt to his grin he opened it and then paused, one foot half-forward in the air.

Husk stared back at him from the porch, keys dangling in one paw and a baseball bat in the other, raised as if to smash at the door.

“Oh it’s you,” the drunkard remarked idly, gaze flitting from Alastor to the entrance and back again. “I couldn’t get in. Thought maybe someone was tryin’ ta prank me.”

He hefted the bat over his shoulder and stepped to the side as the Radio Demon resumed his march forward, smile wide and self-satisfied.

“How insulting. Me, spending so much effort on mere mischief? You know me better than that!”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your horns in a twist,” Husk grumbled. He watched the other practically glide down the porch steps. “What the hell were you doin’ then?”

Alastor stopped and looked back. He tilted his head and his eyes flickered like a broken digital watch.

“Merely mischief.”

And just like that, the Radio Demon went on his merry way. Husk dug the handle of the baseball bat into his forehead to make the headache disappear. Then he walked into the hotel lobby, intending to head right to the bar to get a much-needed drink.

This plan was thwarted immediately when Husk stepped onto soaking wet carpet. He froze, painfully aware of the damp beneath his feet as he took in destroyed furniture, smashed paintings (except for that newest one from Charlie’s mother, strangely enough), and all the hotel residents laying unresponsive throughout the room.

It would have been enough to make him worry, if Vaggie hadn’t stirred and groaned in that exact moment, drawing Husk’s eyes to her and allowing him to spot the melted water gun in her listless arms.

Oh. Oh.

“Idiots,” Husk declared to the carnage. “Idiots and children, all of you.”

 A/N: So someone suggested a while back that I do another chapter with more characters, and the thought couldn't leave my head. I sat on this chapter for a long time until there were more snippets from the show and I could get a feel for Alastor's personality. Gotta say, he's a blast to write. What a swell and absolutely terrifying guy.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

P.S. if you have any ideas for more Hazbin characters in this weird little series, let me know! I'd love to add Sir Pen or others but I'm kinda stalling on how that'd happen haha.

[deadlier-than-i-look]

Company Property

Summary:  Angel has realized that he's in a bad situation and tries to get out, but is it possible when you've signed your entire being to an Overlord? (Inspired by @holo.angel's TikTok: https://vm.tiktok.com/J6HKHQ7/ Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Angel Dust, Valentino, Cherri Bomb Ships: N/A Content Warnings: Referenced Drug Abuse, Abusive/Toxic Behaviour, Non-consensual drug use A03 Link:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/25862977

(The story also uses some of my own Personal headcanons of Val’s powers. His smoke can be used to literally bind a demon to him and when inhaled acts like a drug)

Angel had grown to hate being called to Valentino’s private rooms. There was a time when he relished the praise, the sex and the attention he got from his boss. Now, the desire to please Val made him feel sick. He shouldn’t want to make the man who hurt him, who abused him. Angel wasn’t in Val’s rooms to be the entertainment today. He rubbed his arms, ignoring the glowing red smoke around his wrists, invisible to all except himself and Val, a reminder that he was Valentinos. Angel had to force himself not to jump when sharp nails gripped his shoulders from behind.

“Angel cakes, I heard some troubling news. You refused to take the drugs before your shoot today” Val released his grip and took his seat across from Angel, face set in a scowl, “I give you these drugs to make sure your performance is up to my tastes.”

“I’ve been clean for over a month now. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Have you forgotten that part of your service to me is giving me the control to make the best choices?”

“No, but you’re the one who wanted me to act like a model hotel member to get their trust. If I relapse now, it’ll look suspicious.” Not to mention that until he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone more then a couple of days without something in his body. Even when he was alive drugs had been his crutch.

Valentino hummed, eyes narrowing, “So I did, tell me baby have you managed to learn anything useful to us?” 

Angel’s eyes flickered, “No boss, Alastor doesn’t exactly go around sharing his weaknesses.” That wasn’t exactly true. Angel had caught a few things that have made the radio demon flinch, but he wasn’t going to betray them. Maybe a month ago he would have. He was realziing 

“Hmmm, disappointing” He lit a cigarette, “When I gave you the freedom to stay at the hotel after you accepted her proposal, without my consent, I may add. I expected results” He blew the smoke Angels way.

Angel managed to brush the cloud away before he could inhale it, “I just said I’ve been clean for over a month.”

“And in that time you’ve gotten me nothing” Val reached out and pulled Angel to his lap, “We both know you’re missing the high I can give you” he stroked Angels hair before gripping it tightly, “Watch your fucking tone with me, Angel,” The smoke swirling around his wrists and throat constricted, “Just because you’re living with the princess doesn’t change the fact that I still own you.”

Angel let out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry, Val.” He had to smooth things over before 

Val shoved him away, a look of glorious boredom returning “Get out, I expect results by next week, or you’ll regret it.”

“Anything you want Mister Valentino” Angel put on a smile for him, while internally his thoughts were much more rebellious. He wasn’t coming back. Contract be damned. 

Angel didn’t show up to the meeting and ignored Val’s texts and calls. After a month it became background noise. Out of sight, out of mind.

Angel had left Cherri’s later than expected, “You sure you’ll be alright by yourself, Angie?”

“The hotel is only twenty minutes from here, and less than five of that is in his territory,” Angel said with Faux confidence. Why did she have to make him worry? “He’s not stupid enough to try anything.”

Cherri frowned, “Alright, just send me a text if I need to cause a scene.”

“I will” He kissed her cheek, “See you soon sugar tits, don’t forget about our coffee date on Wednesday, Nuggs has missed you.”

“I’ve missed him too, text me when you get to the hotel, she called after him watching him leave with a frown.

Angel walked down the street, doing his best to keep to the shadows, the fewer people who saw him, the less likely that Val would learn he was even here.

He should have known that Val would know he was out alone. That somebody would have reported him going to Cherri’s earlier. That he’d be watching. Angel forced himself to keep calm as the limo pulled up beside him, the door opened “Angel get your ass in here now.”

Angel took a breath and stepped inside, sitting down on the plush seat, pointedly avoiding eye contact. The silence as stifling as the lingering smoke.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Val asked, words slicing through the air.

It took Angel everything in him not to flinch. “At the hotel,” he met Val’s eyes, “I’m done working for you.” He didn’t want to be stuck as Val’s property for the rest of his existence. Not when he had something so much better.

Valentino laughed, “Oh, are you now?” he hummed, leaning forward and pulling Angel to him by the smoky collar, “This says otherwise Angel Cakes” He chuckled, “You spend a couple of months around the princess, and you think you can change? That her ridiculous plan will work?” He cupped Angel’s cheek, “Her plan is doomed to fail, and the minute she figures it out, she’ll kick you out, and you’ll be alone.” He tutted, “you’re better off with me, and you know it.”

“I disagree, I am better off far away from you.” Angel didn’t let himself dwell on the doubts that Val was putting in his head

Valentino’s smile turned poisonous, “regardless; you don’t get to make that choice. You signed yourself over to me decades ago. You are my property, you signed away the need to make those choices and in return, I make sure you’re safe.” 

“Yeah, and now I’m working with the princess, who if I remember outranks you and I’m a lot safer in her hands than yours.”

“I think, I’m just about done with your attitude,” Valentino took Angel’s chin and blew smoke in his face. The drugs would keep him compliant until he got these ridiculous notions out of his property’s head. He shifted Angel so he was resting against him, “Now relax Angel, we’re going home.”

[jetsetlife138]

Imaginary - Chapter 5

Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Manipulation 

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

It had been five days since your arrival in Hell and you were no closer to finding a way home than you were when you had first arrived. Charlie and the rest of the hotel staff were being as helpful as they could be, but it wasn’t easy running an entire hotel rehabilitation center on top of trying to find a way back to an alternate dimension. There was also the small fact that Charlie was the Princess of Hell and had regal duties to attend to on top of everything else. Still, you were grateful for whatever help they could provide.

Their methods of research were bizarre and not at all what you were expecting. The hotel had its very own library, filled with enough books to last you a lifetime of reading. Charlie had shown you sections of books based on travel, magic, and other strange things that were not the norm in your dimension. However, because magic was so common here, it was difficult to narrow down exactly what powerful source had brought you into Hell. The possibilities were endless.

Since you really didn’t know where to begin, you skimmed through a bunch of books to see if anything stuck out to you or jogged your memory. By day five, your head hurt, you were exhausted, and you felt utterly defeated. It felt like you hadn’t made any progress. 

However, it wasn’t all bad. The others kept you company while you read, though some more reluctantly than others. Oftentimes they assisted with sifting through the mess of books themselves. If you were being honest, sometimes having them around was more of a disturbance than an actual helpful resource, but it was a welcome distraction to ease the stress of the situation.

Charlie would randomly burst into song about whatever chapter she was reading about. Vaggie would make noises of disgust and complain about the grotesque history of Hell. Husk pretended to read through the books, when in actuality he would use the time to drink booze undisturbed and would eventually fall asleep, snoring loudly. Niffty, whom you had finally had a chance to meet, could never stay still long enough to read, and instead would start cleaning. Angel Dust just wouldn’t shut up about his sex life. 

Surprisingly, the only person who didn’t drive you crazy was Alastor. He had no problems sitting calmly with you and reading in silence. He wasn’t so much interested in the magic portion of the books as he was in the torture and carnage-filled sections. He was an enigma. 

Late one afternoon, the two of you were seated next to each other on the couch in the library. He was captivated by a book in another language with what seemed to be a sacrificial cow on the cover while you were reading about magical portals for the umpteenth time. 

No longer able to concentrate due to frustration, fatigue, and boredom, you closed the book and looked up at the Radio Demon. His normally taut and wide smile was relaxed into a closed-mouthed grin as he sat, relishing in whatever gruesome thing he was reading about from the twisted book in his hands.

Unaware of your staring, he failed to notice your gaze rising to the top of his head where two little antlers stood prominently next to two tufts of hair. “I can’t tell if that’s just the way your hair is styled, or if those are actually your ears,” you found yourself blurting out, focused on the pointed, furry shapes on top of his head. 

His crimson eyes flickered to you, seemingly unfazed by the interruption, though he remained eerily silent.

Nodding towards the top of his head for emphasis, you pressed further. “So? Which is it?”

“Curious little thing, aren’t we?” he mocked in a sickly sweet tone, baring his teeth in another smile. “Why do such things concern you?” 

Pursing your lips slightly and shrugging your shoulders, you replied, “Like you said… curiosity.” He released a short burst of laughter before turning his attention back to his book, not bothering to answer your question.

Unable to stop yourself, you asked, “Can I touch them?”

The look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes flashed in what you could only assume was anger. For one brief moment, the corners of his mouth turned down into a scowl before it was quickly replaced with another toothy smile. “I don’t much care for that,” he answered, his heated gaze still focused on you. 

“You don’t much care for what? ...To be touched? You don’t like to be touched?” you found yourself babbling and repeating yourself, bemused by his statement. 

His lip curled slightly as he digested your words. “No. I do not.” 

Your face flushed with embarrassment as you looked down at your lap. What kind of person asks someone if you can just outright touch them? How intrusive, especially considering he apparently had an affliction with personal contact from other people, which honestly confused you after having recalled how many times you had seen him pressing himself against others. The past five days had allowed you to observe the strange residents inhabiting the hotel. While Charlie and Vaggie seemed to make the majority of decisions, Alastor seemed eerily quiet. He had kept his distance from you for the most part, which you assumed was either due to Charlie asking him nicely not to scare you off or Vaggie threatening to execute him like the badass that she was. He had an intriguing air about him in that he cared little for the opinions of others and simply did as he pleased. The demon seemed pretty docile in comparison to what you had seen the day he entered your mind, but you didn’t forget what he could quickly become at the drop of a hat. As much as you hated to admit it, he interested you the most out of anyone else. 

A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between the two of you as you chewed your lip and drummed your fingers along the arm of the couch awkwardly. Not long after, Alastor relieved an annoyed sigh before he murmured, “Go on, then.” 

“What?”

Closing his book with a sharp snap , he set it down beside him, folding his hands together and turning to address you. “If it will satiate your incessant need to know what lays atop my head, you may touch me.”

Instead of immediately jumping at the chance, you resisted. “Um… that’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable just because I apparently have no sense of boundaries.”

“Darling,” he drawled, clearly amused by your reluctance. “You won’t get this opportunity again. Touch me.” 

His wording caused an involuntary hitch in your breath. You hesitated only for a moment, not wanting to miss out on what was clearly an exclusive invitation, which he didn’t often allow. His eyes fell to your mouth as you bit your bottom lip, causing him to smirk at your unease.

Quickly giving in, you sat up and kneeled on the sofa to get better access. Slowly, you reached for his head, careful to avoid the sharp tips of his antlers. 

Finally, your fingers came into contact with the top of his head. What you felt was difficult to describe. You never really thought about what animated hair would feel like. It felt very similar to actual hair, which mystified you. On top of that, his hair had an odd texture to it; wiry but soft, like actual fur, which made sense considering he was a zoomorphic being.

The intensity of his gaze felt hot against your skin as you continued to explore his mane, running your hand up along the part you were most curious about. The tall mounds on his head seemed to be a mix of ears and also hair. There weren’t any openings like a typical ear would have, but they were too stiff to be just hair.

“I still don’t know what these are,” you admitted, more to yourself than to him.

“Perhaps their purpose is simply to mystify. I was just drawn this way, I suppose,” he jested, playing off of your animation accusations. It was a concept that you had to explain to the hotel inhabitants over and over again.  Alastor was able to understand it more only because he had seen what your actual world looked like inside of your head. 

Ignoring his jab, you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing to explore the top of his head. You began to rub tenderly at a spot near the base of his ears. He then closed his eyes as your fingers worked against him. At first, you thought his eyes were closed due to disgust until you had noticed a low hum from deep in his throat. It sounded like an electrical current, but you soon determined that it had to be his own demonic version of a purr. Okay, that was fucking adorable.

“Very… peculiar,” you declared, finally retracting your hand and sitting back on the couch. 

“Are you satisfied, my dear?” he inquired with a subtle underlying meaning underneath.

“Not really,” you answered promptly. “But I’m not going to pet your head again, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

His grin widened as he chuckled, which sounded more like static feedback than an actual laugh.

Just as you were about to return to your book, he chimed, “My turn.”

Puzzled, you asked, “Uh.. for what?” 

“It’s only fair, don’t you think? You fondled me, now I get to inspect you. A little tit for tat, hmm?” 

Gawking at him, you tried to find the words to convey your panicked emotions at that moment. “Fondled?! I didn’t… I… I don’t… what?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No reason to be nervous, sweetheart. I mean you no harm.”

His words of comfort only made you more anxious as you watched him lift himself from the couch and into a standing position. He then extended his arm and offered his hand for you to take with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Your hand was noticeably shaking as you rested it in his, allowing him to grasp it tightly as he pulled you from the couch and onto your wobbly legs. What was happening? Why was he making you so nervous? He had even told you before that if he wanted to hurt you, he would have done so by now. He hadn’t shown any prior aggression towards you, and he had been nothing but docile for the past few days. Why were you suddenly so nervous? 

Interrupting your internal turmoil, the demon stepped closer, bringing you back to the situation at hand rather than letting you get lost in your thoughts. His eyes flickered across your body from your head to your feet, his smile widening even further.

He then gently grasped a bit of your hair and twirled it slowly around his fingers, seemingly fascinated by its movement. Once he was finished, he stepped behind you. Instead of following him, you stood still, your nerves locking up your joints and preventing you from moving.

The tip of his finger rested along your right shoulder before he slowly dragged it across your back onto your left shoulder. The action caused your entire body to tremble, giving you goosebumps. 

“Calm yourself,” he whispered in your ear, making you even more nervous.

Returning to your line of view, he was once again in front of you. Swallowing thickly, you narrowed your eyes as his hands gripped your hips, bringing you closer. He then trailed a slender finger along your collarbone, down to your sternum and to the top of your breasts. 

His piercing red eyes shot up to gauge your reaction, but you managed to keep your expression neutral and your breathing even as he smirked and continued to explore.

Guiding the palms of his hands alongside your breasts, he used his thumb to lightly brush over your hardened peaks, not bothering to linger before moving on. “Quite fascinating,” he huffed, clearly enamored with you.

Were you seriously letting this thing touch your breasts? Why couldn’t you move? Why were you stuck like a deer in the headlights? Punch him! Kick him! Do something!

Unaware of your inner turmoil, he continued to grace his gloved hands further and lower until one of his hands abruptly cupped your sex, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Slapping his hand away, you barked, “That’s enough.” Narrowing his eyes, he seemed positively giddy, which infuriated you even more. “Something the matter, dear?” “You’re crazier than I thought if you think groping my crotch is the equivalent of touching your ears!” “My, my,” he scolded disapprovingly. “Such crude language is not very becoming of a precious thing like yourself. Your request was quite an intimate one. It’s only fair that it should be met with one of equal fervor, wouldn’t you agree?” “No! I would absolutely not agree! You’re delusional!” 

Cackling, he snapped his fingers and his staff appeared next to him, which he used to balance on as he eyed you with an amused expression. “I assure you, my dear. I have no nefarious intent with your body. Merely your mind.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” you barked back, simultaneously embarrassed and insulted. 

He took a step closer to you, placing a finger under your chin to lift your face to meet his, which he seemed to like to do often to signify his power over you. Your initial reaction was to smack it away, but his gaze held you captive as you hung onto every word that he said. “It means, my dear girl… that you’re mine.”

Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88 @utterly-disappointing @opheliuva @trinswhimsys @skylarhedges

[hungryflowers]

Wings of Wax

Title: Wings Of Wax

 Fandom: Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel

Character Pair/Relationship: Alastor/Husk

 Note(s)/Author’s Words: This is considered a continuation of my first story “Hush”. This kicks off where it left off, showcasing what the physical show of what Alastor wanted. This story is even more fucked than the first one. Feel free to tell me what you think. Critiques are welcomed! Bricks and angry mobs with torches are not! Enjoy my shitshow!!!!

       The shadow of the deer demon haphazardly deposited the horror stricken cat demon onto the gargantuan red silk duvet before retreating back towards the being it was summoned from. Husk still couldn’t quite grasp what was happening to the younger male as he dragged himself further atop the king-sized mattress. Still, he gazed at him as Alastor remained at the door. The shadow moved to materialize again; coming from behind and locking the door with a resounding, gut-clenching click.

Now trapped with Alastor, Husk’s only other option would be to have to fight the demon. The only draw back being… No one had ever fought, or even lived long enough to see the Radio Demon in his true, abominable form. ‘I’ll have to be the first…’ The cat’s wings pressed deeper into his back, tail curling in between his legs, ears flattened to his skull. His muzzle scrunched in a snarl, a ragged noise pushing out his nose as he readied himself for his impulsive attack.

A pattern of attack was gone the moment Alastor took four to seven massive steps to the bed. He leered at him, gaze sharper than any of the knives or blades he’d gotten from any of the mass exterminations. Eyes unblinking even as his talons raked over the silk sheets. Husk scooted further up the bed, his feet nearly caught by the long, gleaming red claws. Then, in a savage drawl, Alastor slammed his nails into the bed hard enough to tear into the mattress.

Another out-of-character scream ripped out of Husk’s mouth, body caving as he cowered, his head bashing against the headboard in panic. He started to tremor, his whole body vibrating so much, one would nearly hear his bones popping and rattling. Orange eyes, colored like the softest harvest moons, darted away swiftly as his wings shot up to cover his pitiful attempt at holding back his tears. The sound that he made from his exasperated throat was supposed to be a purr or snort, but only came into the air as a choked sniveling cough. Soon the room was consumed by the ugly sound of his pathetic sobs.

The unholy eldritch’s head tilted abnormally, its expressionless face contorting into something that could not be perceived as an emotion. Staticky clattering came from the demon’s teeth as he registered the small, frailer looking cat. Tactfully, he ran his claws through the fur on the cat’s leg. The delicate touches were of mock pity as he began to imitate the same purring noise Husk had no power to stop.

He continued to run his fingers through sweat-drenched, coarse fur as the form began to melt into someone familiar. The whole time, Husk’s eyes were closed, fighting off the futile tears as they fell to the bed. When he mustered enough resolve to open them, Alastor’s beastly form had returned to normalcy, save the oddly soft smile that was in the place of his harsh, toothy grin. His eyes even gave off an unusually faint glow.

His gloved fingers rubbed softly on the surface of Husk’s wings, feathers long and plush being swept and carried by the Radio Demon’s abnormally soft touch. Alastor kept rubbing his wings, periodically going to his fur to run his fingers in it in a motion similar to having a comb.

Husk didn’t have to ask in order to figure what Alastor was doing: The demon was grooming him into calming down. And tried to manipulate him into purring. Husk hated hearing the sounds even more than feeling them rumble and pulsate out of his chest. But to Alastor, it was riveting. A salacious joy to partake in, regardless if Husk himself didn’t enjoy it. He loved doing things Husk did not enjoy.

The cat demon flinched with every soft touch, something coming from his mouth, but not loud enough to be considered a sound. What Alastor could make from the sound could have been a sigh, or a gasp.

“There, there…”, The twinge in his voice made him sound a bit hoarse at first; kind of like he had been coughing a while, “Doesn’t this feel nice?” He went on as he crawled onto the bed, his body encompassing the smaller cat, who’s wings pulled further up his body. He kept himself in a closed, shivering ball just in reach of the demon’s reddened, gloved finger tips. Minutely, Husk found his eyes closing, then coming open slowly.

The more Alastor stroked up his fur, the less likely his fight or flight response would convey the Radio Demon as a threat. It was becoming difficult to not fall into his need for the touch. The complacency of comfort that was usually associated with someone attempting to be affectionate with him. As a 7′3 cat demon, Husk made it a point to show he wasn’t cute. Or required general affection or touch.

It was easy enough. Often he’d be fighting to protect his turf, or kick out needless squatters at his bar. In either circumstance, Husk was more than a little terrifying. But never to Alastor.

The cat began to unwrap himself from the ball he turned himself into, his paws hiding long, sharp pointed nails in case the Radio Demon would be ready to take him down.

“Al… Don’t. I don’t know- what brought this on?” Husk stammered as he pushed his head bumped the headboard. He tried his damnedest to stop the shaking in his lower body.

“What brought this on?,” Alastor’s head cocked questioningly. He was on his knees when removed his overcoat, casually flinging the wardrobe onto the loveseat on the side of the room, “I’m quite surprised that you don’t remember what happened so long ago. This…,” his hands went up Husk’s slender thighs, claws grasping tenderly there, “What I’ve felt for you hasn’t at all changed.”

Before Husk could snap back, he swiftly yanked his claws into the sheets as he suddenly was dragged to be placed parallel of Alastor’s hips.

“I… I remember!”, he snarled quickly, grinding his teeth hard enough to shoot sparks from his mouth, “I remember what you tried to do! I remembered feeling your hands, your nails running through my fur as you put your revolting tongue on me! I still get sick knowing that you were rubbing your cock on me while you kissed and tongued my neck.” His tone wavered, yet he still growled defiantly at the demon that sat above him. The one who was always above. And he put him there.

Alastor remained focused on Husk as he spoke, more desperately yelled, his case to him. The whole time he kept rubbing his fingers through the fur on the cat’s hips hoping that he’d shutter them into moving. He moved his palms up and down, twitching his thumbs on the upper part of the cat’s hipbone. His face appeared dreamy, whimsy with his glance. Without changing his position too much, Alastor managed to hike Husk’s legs onto his shoulders, the sudden motion making him growl in anger.

“Good, because I also remember how your paws felt as I shoved them into the mud, or the way you groaned as you pretended to hate me. But I also remember feeling…”, he trailed off removing his hands from the cat’s hip to grab painfully at his throat, pushing down on his windpipe suddenly, “your nails in my legs as you surged up to nearly rip out my throat.”

“I-I- I w-won’t apolo- apologize for-for that!” Husk wheezed to the point of asphyxiation. The bending of his body made the suffocation much worse; the pressure Alastor caused was making him grip the Radio Demon’s shoulders tighter with his legs.

"I wouldn’t expect any less,” Alastor closed his sanguine red eyes, relishing in the clenching of the cat’s legs tightening around, “I don’t think you can comprehend how much I wanted to ravish you the time we met.” The Radio Demon began to grind into Husk’s rump, seeing him twitch and squirm as he fought to remain still.

The giant cat bit his tongue, forcing a whimper that wanted to make this situation much worse. His thighs trembled softly as the taller demon pumped against him with vigor. For a few aching minutes Alastor ground himself into Husk, occasionally leaning over to peck him on his cheek. Electricity shot through the cat as he felt Alastor’s genitals brush against him. Unconsciously, Husk began to grind his body down in order to reciprocate those jolts of dizzying pleasure. His face began to warm, wings near his back fluttering with the exasperated pants of the large cat.

Feeling the older male giving in, Alastor removed his hands from the previously strangled cat’s neck, granting slight reprieve. It didn’t last as long as the cat would like as Alastor moved back; his shoulders still bracketing Husk’s lengthy legs as he moved to get as low as allowed.

“Sweet kitten… my dearest sweet kitty,” Alastor started as his face hovered just above Husk’s panting belly, “I’ve been giddy with this urge to devour you for too long. I think the only thing that has kept you from me was my need to keep busy. That changes now.”

The fog in Husk’s mind subsided enough for him to notice Alastor was no longer grinding into him, instead his head was hovering just above his belly. That was when the realization dawned. In the time it took for him to muscle enough strength to move back, Alastor’s face was in between his thighs licking at him feverishly. A surprised cry came from Husk as his claws shot out to grab onto the Radio Demon’s horns, not entirely sure if he was trying to push him away or further him along. Either option made this torture worse. Not thinking on it, Husk’s claws grated into Alastor’s hair pulling the young man deeper.

The cat’s cheeks burned; whether from the shame of giving up so quickly or a new found rage for the demon who was currently tongue deep inside him, he couldn’t make himself know. What he did know however, was that this was a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long while. It was so good, the cat’s body was beginning to do the opposite of what his mind was telling it. For every exhale of heated breath, Husk’s lower body arched in a bow in order to get feel for a better angle. When that tongue touched a sensitive spot; on or inside of Husk, the cat would crow and moan pathetically.

Alastor internally wished he could see the cat’s face contorting and fissuring from the strain of failing to contain his arousal. For now, feeling his thighs clench over his head as his tongue wriggled about inside him was more than enough confirmation he was enjoying himself. He wanted to hear more of the cat’s cries and purrs, so he lifted up a bit more while his right hand palmed the erecting phallus hanging loosely in between the cat’s legs.

“Stop! Al-Alastor! Pl–”, His fangs went into his lips, biting off the pleas before they were wrenched out. One of his claws remaining in the demon’s hair as the other ripped into his clothing.

A burst of hunger rattled throughout Alastor at the feel of those long nails digging into his back. A deep trembling growl came forth as his mind became laced with static. The cat’s willfulness to act on this was something the deer demon had counted on, but not so quickly. He wanted more of it! And so much of it. His gloved hand played about with Husk’s pecker more, his head and tongue still in between the cat demon’s thighs. Above him, he could continuously hear the begging falling from the cat’s lips, “No, No! Please… Oh, god” he’d be whispering and chanting to himself.

The whole scene went for what could have felt like hours but were merely minutes in normal time. One of Husk’s claws broke the flesh on Alastor’s back as he tried to either attack him or bring him closer. The fresh stinking of blood– fully well knowing it was his own blood– drove Alastor into a sex crazed fritz. His tongue left from the inside of Husk; much to his silent relief, and wrapped around the cat demon’s red, bulbous phallus.

“Oh! Alastor!” Husk screamed suddenly, his wings flapping frantically but not being able to get any lift. He began to struggle as he felt his impending climax surfacing; pressure in his lower back and hips giving the warning.

With the changing of position, Alastor could now see the cat demon’s face: And his eyes shot wide as he bobbed up and down on the older male’s cock. The male cat’s face was gloriously slack and strained. Ears fell back as his eyes rolled back in his head with fervor and ecstasy. His mouth hung open as he sucked in deep, loud pants of heated air. Seeing his old partner like his was everything Alastor wanted to see the first time he ever met him. Shame it took him this long to finally get him to this.

While he celebrated this victory, Husk had tensed and froze all together. His back had reached a perfect arch as he growled loud enough to vibrate the air. Alastor looked up at him as the male had reached his climax; jaws hung open in a silent shout as his talons pulled into Alastor’s back even more. He wasn’t even disgusted by the taste of the cat’s seed on his tongue. The warm liquid steadily pumped down his throat as he swallowed Husk to the hilt. Plus, he didn’t stop afterwards; he hollowed his cheeks more and bobbed his head in the same rhythm as before.  

“No! No! Ala-”, Husk crooned weakly at the motion of Alastor’s tongue slipping over his cock, “I-I can’t ta-take it!” A sob bubbled from him as Husk kept kicking and fighting through his climax. About a minute later, Alastor released his hold, merely watching as the cat demon’s erection slid from his mouth.

He pulled forward his silk handkerchief from a small pocket, using the fabric to clean any residual seed from his lips. While that happened, Husk’s limbs shivered as he struggled to figure out what was going on. His eyes blearily looked around the room until he looked down at himself, and the Radio Demon hunched in between his legs.

“Alastor…” It didn’t come out as a question. Husk didn’t know what he wanted to say to him. The demon that had his mouth on his cock, took the words from the cat. Hard orange eyes had become softened due to his climax. Reflexively the cat demon’s claws dug into the silk duvet. His ears folded on the pillow that had been pushed underneath his head. The firmness made sitting up even a bit easier.

Alastor’s grin never wavered, his eyes going sharp as he drug himself atop the bed. When he was face to face with the cat, he leant in. The top half of his chest was now pressing down on Husk’s. He measured the slightly hitched breathing as his gaze went to Husk’s lips. He didn’t give Husk the chance to block his offense as his lips collided the cats’. Alastor kept his gaze on the cat, eyes never closing as their lips remained locked. Sanguine colored eyes shuddered in the vibrancy of the contrasting red and black room. Soon the quiet of the room was interrupted as Husk’s lips entangled with the younger demon’s in earnest. He made a futile attempt to push him off, only for Alastor to reach between them, gather both of his claws, and pin them to the top of the bed.

Well and truly trapped, Husk could only groan… His claws were held above his head in the manner similar to the way Alastor held him the first time. His mouth opened to breath in the air of Alastor, nearly crying out in his mouth as he felt the Radio Demon’s tongue delve inside. For a few solid minutes, their lips slipped and squelched off each other in wet, delicious pops and licks. Husk closed his eyes, not trying to observe what his body had been reduced to. Vocally, he purred softly. It came out of him so quietly, he didn’t acknowledge it until Alastor’s tongue was halfway down his throat.

The cat below him began to squirm with the intrusion of his long tongue. The appendage going down his throat, to the top of his mouth and more. When noticed Husk’s chest heaving he stopped kissing him, but merely hovered over the smaller cat. The old male couldn’t bring himself to look at his violator. He had to remind himself that what Alastor wanted was in no way consensual. This was what Husk should’ve been more careful to avoid. He should not have let his guard down for such an extended period. Husk had gambled his luck the first time; a successful gamble it was. The Radio Demon, at the time, didn’t know who he had been facing. And the desire to suddenly be inside of Husk made him clumsy, arrogant, forgetful, as well as neglectful.  

Now the cards and luck turned against the old man as he shuddered to the feeling of the young man pecking and licking his neck, he cringed with the feeling of the sharpened teeth against his throat. A gesture reminiscent of the time Husk threatened to bleed the demon dry. He wondered if he would want to taste his blood. If afterwards, when he dumped himself inside of his abused body, he’d want the cat to experience the same pain of having his throat bit into. Would the demon revel in watching the light fade from his eyes as he gulped his fluids greedily and then depositing the drained corpse that was Husk?

A sniveling groan came from Husk as he felt Alastor’s teeth nip into his collarbone. Another pathetic noise mustered from Husk as Alastor’s teeth scraped along his arm.

“Stop it,” The younger demon said suddenly, a vicious snarl accompanying the words, “Stop making that putrid noise this instant.”

The cat was about to let loose a sob but remembered himself enough to hold it in. This whole scene was misery and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was pinned by the demon’s weight as Alastor began to feel on everything. His eyes darted somewhere else, at a place where wasn’t looking at the larger demon. He felt some relief when Alastor pulled himself off in order to undo his pants. The sound of clasps being undone and his belt unwrapping made Husk sick to his stomach. In a renewed strife, Husk fought back against Alastor’s hold. He kicked, shoved, and floundered all over the bed all in an attempt to get out of his grasp.

Alastor could see the fight returning to the old cat and began to maneuver his grip so that he was now holding both of Husk’s wrist’s. With that step done, Alastor dragged the cat’s body further up the bed, his wings scraping with resistance. Those noises from earlier, Husk crying and sniveling, came back and louder than before. In desperation and despair, the cat’s eyes; full of unshed tears, began to spill over, the wet drops sinking into his fur.

“No! No! Please, I don’t want this!,” He sobbed out, “What are you tryin’ to get out of this?! Why are you doin’ this?!”

Those questions struck a chord in the Radio Demon. He remembers a time too long forgotten when his victims would plea and snivel for their lives. And would ask him the “what’s”, and the “why’s”. Back then, Alastor didn’t tell them why. Or what for. There was no point in entertaining a dead guest. And the looks; their last living gazes as he butchered would solidify his “what’s” and “why’s”. He didn’t love tormenting his dead weight victims… He lavished in the sickened stinking of their blood as it decorated his suit. The adrenaline he got from his murders would shoot through every corner of his body, lighting up his veins with a cocktail that couldn’t be chilled out.

He hated how his body worked when he killed his prey. He shuddered with disgust at how aroused his body got at watching the dismemberment of a body. Often his cock would get unnecessarily hard. But he didn’t wish to enter a brothel, or head home to work it out himself. He hated how his own body distracted and bothered him. Unwillingly, he’d pull himself free with a violent tug and pleasure himself with the intermingling scent of himself and blood of the prey.

His orgasms left him empty, devoid of the rush he had gotten before. It left him cold and apathetic as he numbly looked at his spunk as it trailed down his fingers. He put himself away, choosing to gather his things and contemplated where his next kill should be. And who will be next.

“Why?…,” He could have been talking to Husk to answer his question, but he was looking at the pillow above his head. And not Husk, “For love, my darling.”

The trembling cat underneath him knew better. Nothing about this was about love. This was about getting something. This was all about taking something that he couldn’t have to begin with. Love was not a thing Alastor felt. Except for himself and his motives. But to love someone?

“This ain’t love!,” Husk snarled as he powered up again only to be forced back into the mattress, “You don’t love me! You never have!” Husk renewed his attempts to fight Alastor. Along with his grip.

Nothing verbal came from the larger demon as the feline tried to get himself away out of his grasp. His gaze intensifying as he looked down at the cat demon. Saliva began to collect in his mouth while he watched him wriggle and struggle. A quickening thrummed through his heart as he listened to the way Husk cried and groaned. Soon, the cat was beginning to tire; he had put too much effort into struggling to only realize that he wasn’t going to be released.

“Tired, sweet thing?”, Alastor jabbed with mock sympathy, “Poor Husk… don’t you worry too much now. This will feel good. You will love it. And I want you to tell me that ‘you want this.” Pulling his pants down a little further exposed more of Alastor’s cock. Pathetically, Husk worked by dragging his feet along the cool duvet, appearing to almost be grinding his hips in order to feel comfortable. His paws flexed in Alastor’s hands as he used his fingers to press into his paw pads.

Husk turned his head to the side now, since he no longer had fight in him, the least he made himself do was not look at Alastor while this happened. His body heat came out as a simpering cold, stages of shock starting to ice him over. He didn’t even move when Alastor pressed his lips against his cheek and chin. He whispered something to him, whether Husk was listening or not Alastor didn’t think to care, as he pushed himself slowly into the cat. He wriggled and squirmed with the intrusion, his back arching as he sucked in a sudden pant.

A shout was stuck in Husk’s throat as he felt the larger demon push himself in further. On instinct, his wing flared and flapped; the feathers loudly colliding with the sheets and headboard. Husk’s claws sheathed and unsheathed, the method causing Husk to think on that instead of Alastor’s short thrusts. Alastor panted in the cat’s massive ears, knees scooting inward as he bottomed out completely; causing both to make an exasperated or relieved noise.

He stayed like that, taking the feeling of Husk around him, watching the cat’s deflating persona as he looked away from him, instead choosing to look at his restrained paws. He stayed oddly silent, save his heavy breathing. The fight he had previously, the sounds of his sobs and cries, his trembling form, had ceased entirely. He was nothing now. His eyes illuminated in a way to show he was alive, but there was nothing that could seen beyond them.

Curiously, Alastor bit down on the cat’s neck harshly, hoping to a reaction from him. He flinched and breathed, but did not much else. He lifted a brow, feeling a bit different to Husk freezing underneath him.

“Husk…”, he moaned softly, trying to get him to rouse with his voice, “Oh, Husk…” He slowly moved his hips and chuckled when Husk gasped in response. When he felt he had the cat’s attention, Alastor began a languid but hard pace; he pushed on Husk’s body in order to bring him closer and on his thrusts. That made a little noise but it wasn’t satisfying. Still, he went with his slow pace but kept his movements sharp. He pressed his head into the cat’s chest as he thrust harder. The cat didn’t react.

Growing more irate than aroused, Alastor’s fingers dug into Husk’s paw pads with enough pressure to get Husk’s eyes to widen. That finally made the cat look up at his rapist. His face looked bizarre, empty looking. Not pain, fear, horror, or even pleasure. Alastor couldn’t tell what his face was supposed to look like. He hadn’t actually done this before… He had only touched himself and that felt disgusting. But he’s wanted Husk for such a sinful amount of time. This was his reward… so why wasn’t Husk enjoying it?

The idea of Husk not taking enjoyment in this made the larger demon snarl loudly. He pushed down on Husk’s arms more and bit him in the collarbone with enough force to draw blood. The cat demon growled and tried to wiggle a bit, but he was still trapped under Alastor’s thrusting form. He didn’t make much noise, save a few hisses from the thrusts, and that was now beginning to piss the Radio Demon off. He was seething so bad that he had released Husk’s paws and settled them on his waist to push himself in more, his gloved claws dragging bloodied lines down his frame.

Husk screamed. It wasn’t from the pleasure. His body couldn’t find any pleasure in any of this. In the blur of the quick slash down his waist, he could feel trails of blood leak out on the bed. With his paws free, Husk at least tried to shove at Alastor, but just didn’t have enough resolve to get him off fully.

Above him Alastor started to move faster, his thrusts becoming less hard and more pointed, his hips moving quickly to piston inside of Husk. During that, Husk’s back began to arch, loud symphonic purring coming to the surface now. After a few seconds, his purrs shifted into quiet but soft moans. Not as quiet to Alastor’s ears as he pursued the noises and pushed himself deeper inside Husk to get a taste of those delicate moans.

While he was doing that, his claws kept scraping and scarring the cat demon’s skin, leaving deep, pressured lines all over him. For the first time in his life in Hell, Alastor began to feel heavy pinpoints of actual arousal. Instead of rough, soundless pants, he was starting to pant softly, groan to the inside of his captor as he fucked the cat in the only way he could think of. He found himself hiking Husk’s legs up more, going much deeper than before. His claws went from his waist and grabbed onto the sheets on either side of Husk’s head; the cat pivoting his head to not look at him.

‘Not again!’ The larger demon snarled in his mind as he turned Husk’s head to look at him. To force him to stare directly at him.

“Look at me,” He hissed in an audible warning, “You are going to look at me. I want you to watch as I fuck you like this. Do you understand?”

The cat demon nodded. And then nearly cried out when Alastor shoved in much harder than previously.

“I didn’t get that. Do you understand?” He slowed his thrusts in order to emphasize the stroke. He waited on the reply. It wasn’t going to be a ‘no’. Not if the cat wanted to get out of this alive.

“Y-Yess. Yes… please.” His voice was cracky, weakening from the lack of choice he had at the moment.

“Wonderful!”, Alastor stated almost too jubilantly, “Oh Husky, I have every intent on making you feel good.”

While he spoke Husk suddenly started to feel woozy. Sickly looking as well. Before Alastor could even figure what was happening outside his world, the cat demon lurched hard to the left side and vomited violently.

The smell of it tingled on alcohol and a meal the cat had prior, but looked like bile. Husk coughed while retching, his chest huffing up and down as more came up. He shivered harshly before coughing again. The whole side of the bed and floor was soaked in the mess. With the combination of the sex and vomit, Husk felt awful.

And Alastor laughed, not fully, it was a half hearted chuckle as he pumped into the cat more.

“Looks like someone made a mess,” the Radio demon mocked as he stroked the satin duvet and thrust into Husk more, “I’ll clean it up later.” Then he pinned him down and began to pump harder and faster.

Husk moaned, much louder than he intended. His body flexed and arched with each precise, yet painful thrust. One pinprick of a thrust later, his wings shivered as his chest heaved. He pushed a forceful pant as Alastor reoriented a such thrust that forced him to put a claw on Alastor’s shoulder.

The whole time, the eldritch bastard kept that sadistic smile on his face. He leant down, placing his lips on Husk’s; the kiss deepening as Husk moaned into the kiss. He found he lavished in watching every twitch, every vibration of the cat demon’s muscles. But he was beginning to love watching his partner’s face in contort with each thrust. He was starting to like this. Every moan, groan, or sharp pant was saying so. Also, Husk barely began his bodily protest. There was not as much vigor to escape as there was to take in what was occurring to him.

When the thrusts became faster, Husk’s started to draw up his own legs into a better angle for each pointed shot. One such thrust caused the cat demon’s face to boil and eyes to roll back as he shivered. He felt Alastor’s lips raise from his as he was pulled in closer, his body being twisted to accommodate the hard hits. The whole while, the cat demon kept his claws in the Radio Demon’s back. He didn’t know if he should let him go, savagely tear his back open, or just leave it so he decided on the last; regardless of his muddled, lust filled mind.

“Al-Alas…”, Husk’s first vocal try to reach the Radio Demon came out as a weak moan. He started fighting back his need for arousal, but every move against him only made him moan more, “Alasstor…” He ended with a hiss. Unconsciously, Husk removed his claws from his back and rubbed softly against Alastor’s ribs. The gesture making Alastor groan a bit, his pace fumbling into a faster grind.

“What a good boy! Such a sweet, sexy kitty cat,” The deer demon was sounding quite pleased, winded even, yet so utterly pleased. This was what he was wanting out of Husk. His submission. His participation. But more than anything… His body. For the first time, which will not be the last time, He had Husk in every way. Now his servant would be serving him with not just his life, but with his body as well, “Keep this up and I’ll reward you so perfectly.” He emphasized by stroking his cheek and neck.

Husk’s moans sounded more frequently as his climax became an impending throb. He couldn’t reach himself in order to stroke off his aching phallus; said member abandoned, waving without stimuli. He resorted himself to arching and bumping against Alastor in order to keep himself a stir for as long as the larger demon fucked into him. At the last second, barely a thrust more before he’d keel over, Alastor placed his gloved hands behind Husk, slid up on his knees, and roughly bringing Husk onto his lap. Positioned on him so that his legs would now hang loosely on either side of Alastor’s hips, Husk screamed out suddenly as the penetration got deeper.

In this position, Husk’s wings were free to dangle of the silkened duvet, the feathers barely clashing the bloody red colors. The cat demon began to shake with vigor as Alastor forced him further down on his cock.

“Deep. So… Deep.” Husk chanted softly, finding out, in horror, that his body was starting to like how much further the thrusts could go. Unintentionally, he wrapped his wings around the larger demon, them being used as a way to hold himself.

While that was happening, Alastor’s claws moved to explore, grab, cut and slice, jab, and bleed Husk’s skin. Blood spots starting to form underneath his sooty fur, many wounds dribbling more profuse than others. Worse yet and adding to his powerful thrusts, Alastor began to bite, more maul, Husk’s neck. Wildly, he bit into the cat’s neck with the intent to bleed him.

“Alastor!” His screamed in rabid panic as he felt his fur being ripped, skin almost peeling, “Alastor! No! No! It hurts!” Husk’s voice cracked, tears spilling from his eyes as tremors of pain rung up and down his body.

Alastor’s eyes appeared to have almost blackened at hearing the weakness in the other’s voice. He didn’t respond verbally, the noise coming from him came out as a snarl or rumbling growl.

“It hurts…” Alastor repeated, pausing his pace for a second, “I’m not hurting you! I’m giving you everything you deserve! I’ve wanted you to have this since the first time I met you. How dare you!,” He snapped, raking his claws down the cat’s already sore back, “I. Would. Never. Hurt. The one. I. Love!” He punctuated every word with a thrust hard enough to make Husk bend and bow.

This couldn’t go on. It didn’t. It was only a matter of time before the dam broke.

On the last thrust, Husk clenched painfully around Alastor; wings flaring open before dropping onto the bed, he couldn’t make anymore noise, –it was barely a  gurgled grumble– as he came harshly all over the lap of Alastor. He trembled, quaked, and shook before he became spineless in the Radio Demon’s lap.

The moment, as well as climax, came and went so abruptly, Alastor didn’t even know that the cat had passed out. Only when he prodded at the cat in a manner that was supposed to be painful did he notice he was unresponsive.

“Kitty cat?… Husky?” He tried, his clawed fingertips probing at Husk’s prone, stagnant face. He almost appeared to be dead. The barest, near invisible rising and falling of his chest; no matter how minute, showed that he was physically still living.

He pulled the creature off his cock and threw him atop the bed, body falling to his side like a limply made ragdoll.

He looked so beautiful… in such a way that aroused Alastor more. But it felt the same as being sexually into a corpse. Which he felt disgusted for thinking about. The cat was alive, in a sense. He didn’t even twitch when he smoothed his gloved fingertip down his chest and stomach. The cat never stirred. He was truly gone.

‘Disappointing.’ His mind muttered as he reoriented himself. Looking himself over he could see the cat’s release all over his shirt and open flaps of his pants. As well as he fully mast erection. He made a nasally grunt as he made himself stand. He felt incredibly tight near his groin area; with his inability to come to his own release. He wasn’t about to stuff himself back in his pants until he could work the pressured charge out of his lower body. But he wasn’t about to fuck the cat’s unconscious body to do that.

He went into his conjoined bath, turned the water to the coldest setting, removed his clothes and stepped in. He had been so charged that he never the bristling cold run over his head and spine. He flinched while feeling the cat’s various claw marks and gashes from where he held him last. Then the smell wafted up his nose. A stinking oily smell that indeed was his blood. He used his smell and the lingering jolts of Husk’s touch as the fuel needed to work himself off.

Alastor didn’t moan, or groan. Hardly any noise came from him, save his breathing, as he palmed and stroked his maddeningly hard erection. He closed his eyes, his head tilting against the freezing tiles as he came all over the floor; that pressure no longer causing him discomfort. After releasing a single relieved pant, Alastor shut off the water and stepped out, leaving his soiled clothes in front of the shower.

He left to his wardrobe to pick out his more casual ensemble: His staple salmon colored button down long sleeve, sharply pressed, tall and tapered simply colored black pants and his small red and black bowtie. He about made it out of his room until he looked over to Husk’s body; whom was beginning to stir but made barely noticeable twitches. He didn’t wish to leave him like this; atop his duvet with various bleeding wounds leaking all over the crimson red sheets. His scars would most likely be prone to infection nothing was done about them.

He grin flashed as he came with an idea to make the cat comfortable. What better way could he think of than a bit of after care?

Carefully, he wormed his hands across Husk, careful to keep his blood off his shirt, picked him up and moved to the bathroom. He kicked away his discarded clothes while he placed the cat inside of his blackened, red painted soaking tub. Humming a merry beat quietly, he rustled through his medicinal cabinet for supplies to treat any serious wounds. Once the herbs and small ointments were found, he came back around to see if Husk had moved. Save his ears twitching, Husk barely stirred. That came as good news for Alastor as he turned on the hot water, hoping to get him to fully awaken. He lifted a brow when not even that woke the cat. He was really out of it. Adjusting the water temperature a bit made it easier for him to touch him as he swabbed the caking blood off of his fur.

He continued like this for a while. Occasionally using his bathing ointment, often used for recurring wound pains, to soothe and wash out all of Husk’s worser wounds. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to the cat’s face whenever he hissed or groaned from the swabs. When Husk began getting well enough to open his eyes, Alastor softly hummed something others wouldn’t have heard. Whatever he did say managed to calm the cat down, his eyes lulling closed as Alastor wiped up some clotting blood. When he had gotten to his neck, the deer demon suddenly could see where he had gone too far.

He poured a great deal of medicinal alcohol onto the bite to keep it from infection. He knew what a huge amount of that would do, so he was prepared when Husk almost shot out of the tub.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He mumbled as he kept a fair grip on Husk’s wings and back. Another badly injured area yet to be cleaned or properly taken care of, which proved to be a worse mistake to touch. Husk yowled and flailed wildly; the pain almost making a run out of the tub.

“No! No! Husk, enough of that!” Alastor chastised before a swift swipe of Husk’s claw dug into his neck.

Calmly, Alastor pulled the nails out of his top collar, and pulled back on Husk to get him in the tub. He checked on his chest and neck for anymore blood, thankful when he found none.

“Alright, kitty. All done.” He spoke softly as he pulled him out of the dirty water. He reached behind him to gather the towel he would swaddle him in to keep him warm. The bath all taken care of, Alastor thoroughly dried off his small partner and leant him down to cover him in the blankets. Husk didn’t open his eyes as any, or all, energy left his body.

Fur now cleaned, skin tended to, as well as all wounds patched up, Alastor made himself pat the smaller cat as he slept; totally unaware of the surroundings he had been placed in. His chipper grin wavered a bit, forming something of a smile with genuine emotion behind it. Both of his hands moved down the cat’s prone body before he could process a reason to why. Indifference, apathy as well boiled out of the fearsome demon’s chest. An urge to just jump in bed next to the sleeping mass of fur had to be physically resisted as he moved away from the bed.

Grin restored Alastor chuckled to himself giddily. He wanted to head downstairs and brag to anyone. Everyone perhaps about his lascivious encounter with the Hotel’s barkeep. Alastor shook his head hard enough to rattle those intrusive thoughts out of it. He is one of a silent, less obvious pride. Unlike Angel Dust, who’d go on about who he had shared a bed with the night before, Alastor wouldn’t tell them. They would have to ask about a ‘sex life’ that he would make them believe he had. So long as subtlety remained apart of his guise, the heated tryst would be between Husk and him alone.

His room remained dark before he walked out of it, not concerning himself with opening the drapes for the moment as it was already sundown.

             Feint dancing of candescent lighting made the study appear much brighter than it usually did. With blinks so slight, Alastor saw shadows move across the floor. Save his breathing tonight, the study was still. Large oak french doors didn’t creak as they were pushed by the gust of an exterior window on the far right side of the room. Papers, manuscripts, books of plenty; some opened to a chapter and left there, others sprawled out on the counter, their spines bent on the cherrywood table with the story that he couldn’t see.

An Ol’ Fashioned Manhattan in hand, Alastor strode through the quiet room. He doesn’t entertain Charlie or her company this evening, though he can he ghostly whispers of them, and a non too soft guffaw of Angel Dust. He continued his exploration through the dimly lit space, hands on each piece of parchment or note left in a tidy, or discordant mess on various high standing dining room style tables. Some of the letters had calligraphies that seemed like nonsense, others were scribble that a bored 6-year old would do. 

Adjusting his monocle as it loomed off his face just a stitch, he could now see what the Princess of Hell was trying to bring into fruition for the benefit of all her people. For the full reach of Hell. He bent of the table to see what her plans might be, and wondered if there would be any room for his quiet adjustments. His chest rose and fell as he blew out the sigh he had held. 

A knock on the double doors brought Alastor out of his fantasies. One of the heavy doors pushed open, creaking as it did, as a lone, blonde haired figure came through it. 

Princess Charlie was actually not in suit and tie tonight. She garnished a reddish orange tank top with frills along the neck like a neckerchief, dress trousers were replaced with white flowing chiffon pants that scraped at the hardwood as she walked. Her hair had been put up well above her head in a coiling pattern reminiscent of a giant snake.

“I… noticed you weren’t at the table. And we didn’t know if you were hungry, so I left you some leftovers on the counter,” She kept her tone soft with him for some reason. Alastor knew she was much louder, so her change in tone was a change to him, “Also we’re having tea and cakes. Vaggie and I made them. If you want some, help yourself.” Her tone chipper despite her near muted tone.

“Supper had been missed already? Ha! The time does fly here! I’ll be around in a moment for the tea time since I’m still quite full from a previous meal.” The Radio Demon does have a knack or two of lying. Though him joining the small group for tea would be a refreshing afterthought. 

“Great!,” Charlie’s infectious smile made him grin all the more wider. He just loved seeing her beam with such a smile. He lavished in being able to see everyone with that smile. She was about to leave the study before turning sharply, her elbow almost slamming against the closed door, “Oh! And see if Husk wants to come down too. He probably doesn’t want any tea, but we have some beer if he wants it.” 

“I’m afraid my Husky dear will not be able to mingle along with the ritz as all. Poor dear’s had the longest of days and would much prefer to sleep. I’ll bring him some confections after the party,” With that, Alastor strode by Charlie’s side and to where she held the nighttime tea party, “Precious thing needs all the rest. Requires it, actually.” He placed his hands on either side of Charlie’s shoulders as they moved into the dining area. She laughed in his agreement, knowing fully that Husk isn’t the same when he hasn’t the decent amount of sleep.

_______________________________________________________________________

    Him waking should not have taken as much time, nor caused as much pain as it did. Ghoulish numbness trickled all throughout his body, his muscles spasming and shaking. He could barely gain his body, feeling as if he had been maimed and mauled by a beast. He couldn’t process how such a severe pain warred and marred him, he had been sleeping up to now, what... who had attacked him in the night? He couldn’t get his eyes to open, or what have you, it hurt him try to. His limbs felt like large piles of lead. His breathing became much harder, coming out as gasping coughs. Finally Husk’s eyes opened, after forcing them to obey him and it hurt. 

 Husk scanned over himself... and instantly felt sick.

From the top of his neck down to his toes, he was covered in scratches, bite marks and claw patterns that seemed to puncture his skin. His limbs trembled as they soon started to cooperate with him, previous weakness in them dissolving as his senses worked back. Static of pain made Husk cry out when he tried to reorient his legs. They felt like they had been broken. Slammed by something repeatedly until the bones in them became congealed putty.  He’d have to hope for later that wasn’t the case. 

The more the cat demon thought and thought, the more murky and befuddled did they become. Clearly somethings had become remiss since he has now awoken injured. He wanted to know why. He had to figure out what happened to him. He strained and snarled loudly once his back choose that moment to betray him. His right paw shot up to apply pressure, it paused as one of his claws felt on the gashes on his nape and lower part of his back. Miraculously, he didn’t feel any blood on his claw tip, instead he felt fresh scarring that stung as he touched them.

He willed his voice to call out, but the only noise that came was a pained and hoarse rolling growl. He clenched at his throat while rooting around for something he could use to clear it. His breath smelt terribly of some kind of distilled, expired liquor he most likely never drank in his life, combined with dankness and dirtiness of stagnant water.  And it made him smell horrible. 

Shaking out the fuzz that began to occupy his mind, Husk tried his best to figure out where he was. He came to the conclusion that he was not in a bed he was familiar with. He didn’t sleep in his own room on more than one occasion, so that wasn’t what bothered him. What did though was that he had never seen the interior of this room before. The room itself felt too macabre to put away even normal guests of the hotel.

He glanced over the large solid brown oak door of the room, and then to the  velvet red drapery of the nearest tall casement style window.  To the left side of the bed, nestled in the corner appeared some kind of loveseat instead of a full couch. Atop it, the discarded scarlet jacket that must’ve been thrown away for a long time.  It looked almost similar to Alastor’s jacket, but what was it doing in this room. He then gazed at the vanity in front of the massive bed he was sitting in. The mirror atop it reflecting his distressed appearance as his brow furrowed.

'Who in this place has a... Fuck!’ His reflection followed as the realization, and memory swiftly came back. He had only been in this room once. He never entered it unless prior permission had been given.

“This is Alastor’s room!” Husk wheezed out loudly, “What. The. Fuck?!!” His voice became stronger with dissonance.

 His eyes widened, his chest had grown tight as the whiplash caused the room to spin. Husk’s right paw went to the scars on his nape, near his lower back. He felt up his scar at the same moment a tragedy played back in his mind. 

          Husk screamed, a sound that never came from his throat, no matter the situation, as he was grabbed from behind. His ears fell back and his body went numb as a gloved hand scraped into his nape. He overbalanced his head, tilting too far back, causing his hat to tumble to the ground. His face was brought up to Alastor’s, whom of which somehow transformed into a beast no one in Hell had ever lived to see.

His body quaked at the reminiscent feeling of those willowy fingers gripping deep into his fur. His ears dropped low as a rolling, coiling sensation rode through his guts. His vision swam as more of the memory played back in his mind. In it, he could hear a voice. Cracking. Wavering with something bordering on fear.

           “Al…Alas…” He shuddered, his voice cracking. He stumbled Alastor’s name from his paralyzed lips.

 His body twitched subtly as that voice replayed the Radio Demon’s name over and over. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to tell him to stop. Or beg him to. If he was going to beg him at all. Another wave of painful wave of dysphoric nostalgia crashed through him, and this time he gagged from it. His paws shot to his mouth to keep something… anything from coming out. Nothing came, but the iron ball in his gut remained there; pushing on everything, causing his stomach to sink further.

               “Hush, pet… everything is alright…” Nothing about what happened, felt alright to Husk, “this time… you won’t be able to escape me.”

Husk remembered the barest of static in the eldritch’s voice. The sharpening claws digging into his fur. But the rest was a blur in the moment his shadow constricted him. Coiled around him like a snake before dragging him into the room where he is now. He should’ve tried. To escape. At least put up a fight before it all happened.

Knowing what he knows now, Husk makes a break for it.  Shoving off the overly large red duvet, Husk lands one foot on the floor before it spasms.  He gasps in pain as pain shoots up his right leg, to the joint on his hips. The gasps dissipates into a growl as he slides the rest of his body off of the bed.

Just in time for the massive oak door to creak open. And for him to see that grin that make Husk’s stomach drop further.

The Radio Demon comes in with a tray as he closes the solid door of the room. Cutting off any plans that Husk might have used earlier to escape. The cat keeps his eye on Alastor as he set the assortment of baked goods and hot tea confections on a stony, marble chest. He is in a suit more casual than other times he is seen; a simple salmon colored button down long sleeve, black, pressed loose-fitting trousers and his normal red and black bowtie. 

The cat doesn’t take his eyes off him as he pulls out two china glass, floral patterned tea cups and pours two cups.  The aroma is quite nice. Floral scented with hints of orange and lemon. Alastor keeps his eyes trained on the cups as he dots in a couple scoops of sugar and a drizzle of honey. He moves one of the cups off the tray to places it nearest to Husk. The cat breaks contact with the demon for a moment to look at the various brightly colored cookies and small cakes on a different plate. His stomach turns and gurgles. Unconsciously, he puts his paw to his belly, as if trying to silence his minuscule need to eat. 

The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Alastor, who finally locks eyes with Husk, his showcased smile forever etched on his face. 

“Evening…,” he starts, eyes gleaming at the cat who began to divert his gaze on something else in the room, “Supper has been eaten downstairs. Dishes done and tummy’s full. But Charlie thought it nice for a little nighttime tea time. And you have to wake up early in the morning, so I was considerate enough to leave you some confections! See now, don’t say I never gave you something nice.” He chuckled lightly at his words before placing himself on the far left side of the loveseat. Then encouraged Husk to sit next to him by thumping his hand on the spot indicated to sit.

Husk didn’t move. His tail thrashed slowly behind him as he rubbed and scratched at his left arm. He still wasn’t looking at Alastor. He growled silently, ignoring the flaring pains in both of his legs.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Alastor said sweetly. 

The cat flinched at that. At his sweet, soft words. Just in the way he said that made Husk’s fur stand on end. Made something like tar bubble up in his guts as he seethed at him.

The cat looked down at his feet. A snarl coming onto his face, but it made him  look as if he was being scolded. His posture looked as if he was being petulant and stubborn.

“You… Alastor you…ra… why did you?” Husk tried to make the mess of words tumbling from his mouth intelligible. He gripped at himself a bit tighter as the words became no more than intelligent garbling repeats of what he was trying to say.

“Sorry Husk. What was that?” Alastor tilted his head as he asked. His kitty had never appeared so frazzled before. Though he wasn’t worried about how he was feeling. He looked noticeably tired. 

“You…raped…me.” Husk mumbled, slurring his speech purposely. He couldn’t make himself speak clearly. And it was beginning to anger him. Knowing that he’d have to tell Alastor what he just remembered.

Alastor’s brow arched curiously, seeming to want to know what begot the troubles of his older partner, but did not wish to ask again. Still, seeing Husk like this was disconcerting to say the least. His mood, even his temperament was unusual tonight; even for him. He kept his complaints long, yes but there was also simple, with no underlying innuendo or sugarcoating. He trained his gaze harder on the cat demon, who was looking more ruffled than late. His eyes were kept to the floor, tail batting around behind him in a thudding pattern. He also noticed that the cat’s wings rose a bit over his back, feather tips barely grazing the floor as the shuddered.

Curiosity ebbing, Alastor decided it best to comfort his sweet partner, so he got out of his seat, took a long, slow gait around the table while holding out a simple hand to meet him halfway.

Husk hissed ferociously, his wings banking over his body like a bow, claws coming unsheathed as his slumping, petulant posture transformed into the Hellcat that Alastor remembered too well. “ Stay back! You stay the fuck away from me!”

Alastor’s eyes widened, surprise brimming from them as he watched the cat’s violent display.  He ceased his approach, hand going to his chest in a way to make it look as if he had been wounded by the audacity of his oldest partner and dearest friend drawing his claws at him. The stared long into each other’s eyes; the cat demon’s looking to almost brim with a deep, bloodied scarlet at the center of his pupils. 

The whole scene was a bit of a torrent for the perplexed Radio Demon. He wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to approach him to swoop him up in his arms while paddling him with soft, warm kisses. Or to take to arms and fight the beguiling, yet dangerous beast.

“You must be ill, my dearest Husk…,” Alastor said, his tone meaning to be used in a way to diffuse the cat’s aggression. Boldly, he took steps toward him, keep his tone the same as he said “Why don’t you come over and sit down? I’m not doin’ anything to hurt ya.”

Husk’s eyes flashed between dilating and constricting, claws not pulling back as he hissed viciously. All of Alastor’s words didn’t matter to Husk. He remembered. He remembered in great detail what the demon in front of him dismissed. The cat held his ground, puffing and spit-hissing at him in warning to keep Alastor at bay.

“Darling, this is nonsensical. What have I done to you to invoke such distress from you?” Alastor was now close enough to brush Husk’s wing but not his face. But he saw well and true the unadulterated rage in his eyes. 

“What have you done?!”, Husk snarled lowly, “You don’t know what you did?! Well I can go back in details about all the horrible, vomit-inducing things you did!!,” He stepped right into Alastor’s face, claws dangling dangerously to the front, “You. Raped. Me. You son of bitch!”

They both were so close that Husk could see how Alastor’s eyes dilated when he spoke. And then constrict. He could feel the heat surfacing from the cat’s skin, could hear the palpable drumming of a long dead heart. The euphoria. The catharsis was too much for Alastor to take. 

His hands dove into the cat’s fur before Husk could react, slamming and pinning him to the side of the bed. Before the roar would come, the much larger, younger deer demon lunged; shoving his tongue down the cat’s throat. He dragged out a ragged moan as his lips conquered the cat’s fully. Soon he had the smaller, older demon bent and pinned painfully to the bed, his claws stuck, frozen in the air, unsure of what was done to deserve this.

Bile rose in his throat as Alastor’s hand sought for Husk. He was going to try and pleasure him again. Wanted to take him by force again.

He put an abrupt stop to that by kicking Alastor, quite fiercely, in his genitals. Then his claws animated as they swiped and slashed his sides and under his neck. Both pains caused Alastor to yell out, shoving himself off the cat’s body now that he had his blood staining his shirt and the thumping pain where he was kicked to deal with. 

He didn’t know which needed the most attention, so he just sunk to the floor, reeling in the pain. He braced his hands on either sides of him, head bowed as he tried to focus on any sensation that wasn’t a stinging pain. The blow to the genitals felt as if he had been gut-punched hard enough to rupture an organ. The addition of the slashed lines in his hips only made the first pain much worse. 

Above him, Husk was staring at him. The fierce glint was there for a fleeting second before it passed. His fur looked less rugged as the adrenaline in his blood began to ebb.

“If you touch me like that again, I’ll rip your fucking head off,” He emphasized his words by kicking Alastor while he was down, “Now lay there and die, you living filth!” His last words were practically barked as he walked off, leaving the most feared demon in Hell on the floor, clenching his sides, head bowed in pain. With traces of what appeared to be slobber coming out of his mouth.

Husk about made it to the door when the air around him chilled, his soft breath began to steam as he gripped the door handle. Before he had the chance to turn it, two things happened: A sound so morbid and powerful filled his ears, then he felt long, spindly branches grab harshly at his sore body. He didn’t have the luxury of time to cry out, but he winces when he feels the branches are clawed fingers--the dragging of them ripping at his back and nape-- the delicate tips sinking into him, revealing new scars atop the older ones.

Husk makes effort to turn, and sees Alastor is still kneeling on the floor, one hand on his crotch and the other trying to congeal the blood underneath his nasty scar. If he wasn’t, then who--

Husk gasped in surprise as his form was suddenly, and none too gently removed from the floor. He went sailing into a nearby wall, his head and back colliding harshly enough to leave an imprint where he hit. Once the fuzz in his vision faded, he came face to face with the Radio Demon’s shadow. He could see the lightest of trickles of his blood staining the supposedly tangible figure. The shadow surrounded him, pushing the older cat closer toward the wall, hindering escape.

“That... wasn’t a nice thing to do...”, The cat’s ears darted in the direction of the half distorted voice. Seeming to be nearly fascinated with his shadow now, Husk’s eyes didn’t leave it as Alastor stumbled to his full height. His head was downcast, checking over his new wounds while he swiped away thick lines of his repugnant smelling oily blood, “I receive you. I pleasure you. I give you every part of me. And this is the gratitude that I am shown?” Alastor lifts his head, his grin-- his grin isn’t there. His permanently fixed grin is not on his face. What is on his face is a frightening snarl, his lips pulled back unnaturally as his teeth extend past his lips. Viscous, black blood comes leaking out of his mouth, in between his teeth and onto the floor. Eyes of the deepest scarlet are constricted so tightly, the pupils do not exist.

The older cat’s eyes dilate deeply, his faint heartbeat now sounding as a drum, pounding so much it physically hurts his chest.

“You... fucking raped me...,” Husk’s tail was swiping at the door behind him, “And then, you... you just kiss me like that never happened. What the hell else was I supposed to do?” 

“You. Are. Wrong,” Alastor starts to move, calculated steps measured. His pace slow as he flashed his teeth, “I already told you that I was not hurting you. That I would never hurt you.” He stopped in front of Husk, the cat demon staring up at him fully as his shadow fizzled away. He emphasized his last word by tilting the older cat’s chin toward him. It was so painful. The cat could feel his neck being pulled up and creaking. 

“You. Belong. To. Me... You knew this the moment you signed yourself to me. I will do what I wish to you. My will is imposed onto you. And if you don’t like what I do to you... well”, he removed his fingers from the cat’s chin in order to wrap his hand around his neck. His digits scraping into the older male’s skin. Husk felt the warning, the condensation in the air turning to ice as the eyes of the Radio demon switched to dials, “then I will rid you of your existence in this Hell. And I will place you into a pit of abyssal torment for the rest of your days. And when you feel your skin and bone pulled from your miserable carcass again and again, and again”, he continued as he gripped the throat tighter, the cat’s eyes widening into bulbs of orange, ears falling flat against his head, even the breath he tried to force out became painful as it became lodged in his chest, “you will then become satisfied. And more grateful to me and the pleasures you will receive. Have I made myself clear?”

Husk was unable to nod, nor was he able to keep but a couple of breaths before he wheezed out a hoarse, agonized and simple, “Yes.”

Alastor released him after that. The cat demon falling gracelessly to the ground, wings splaying out on either side of him as his claws darted to his throat. There wasn’t a trickle of his blood, but his throat and neck felt different. It felt compressed, uncomfortable to touch, he choked and sobbed while slobber collected in his mouth before dribbling in a small puddle to the floor.

“Putrid. Insolent and stupid creature. You’ll keep everything between us. If I even hear you breath and didn’t allow it, I’ll tear apart your wings. One feather at a time.” And then he smiled. No. He grinned incandescently, face now lit with macabre jubilee. 

Husk started to fold in on himself, his wings going across his body in order to shield his body from view of the demon. 

“And please eat. I brought the cakes and sweets for you.” He now spoke pleasantly, the ice in his tone thawing back to normal. Ignoring the congealing blood at his sides, Alastor walked back over to the table to push the confections closer.

A few moments later, Husk stood on his four legs, silently heading over to the tray, eyes wide, body trembling. 

Alastor regained his seat on the loveseat, crossing his legs over each other as Husk reached for one of the soft sugar frosted cookies. He popped it into his mouth without a word, his eyes still turned to the hard floor. He took another frosted cookie and ate it. He liked the taste of them, the colors in his eyes brightening with hidden delight as he sampled the tastes. 

The younger demon handed him his cup of lukewarm tea while he took up his own. They drank of their cups with no words to each other. Husk finished his cup quickly, his claws going to the pot for another cup. Alastor doubts he even tasted the varying flavors while he made another cup.

“It’s meant to be savored, not wolfed Husk.” The deer demon stated a touch vindictively. This wasn’t alcohol, so he didn’t have to drink it down so fast. 

The cat demon only nodded slowly as he put the cup to his lips, taking a slow sip before setting it on the tray. As he did so, he watched his paw quiver. It wasn’t much to show that those words did something to him. It didn’t go unnoticed by Alastor. Nothing Husk did would.

Without a word, the young gentleman took the cat’s paw, guided him across the counter and pulled him into his lap. Husk was looking at the wall when he felt Alastor’s lips go to his neck, a featherlike touch, before pulling away. 

“Touch me.” A simple, sultry command that Husk had no choice, or will, but to follow. His paws went to the larger demon’s shoulders as he leant his chest into Alastor’s face. He gasped softly as he heard, and felt, the demon growl deep in him. 

He didn’t want him. Never wanted him. There was never going to be a feeling of love in what this demon wanted. He was just taking. Taking something he wanted from him at the time they first met. And now, he has it. And he will continue to have it. Over and over, and over. 

To Husk, this was a Hell that Pentagram City would never be.