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thewrongsandwichgamer · 1 month ago

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The spider takes back his web(Overlord!Angel Dust origin story!)

Chapter 1: The invitation

Ao3

Consciousness slowly returned to Alastor like that of a light sprinkle of rain turning to a steady downpour; growing slowly and becoming more attention grabbing. He began to mumble to himself in slurred Cajun French as he was roused from his dreamless sleep. His eyes opened slowly and his irises pulsed with crimson light. Crackling noises of a radio switching channels while struggling to find signal emitted from him, his mind muddled with the kind of early morning grog that your mind was filled with after you had just had a rather awful sleep.

He sat up from his bed with all the liveliness of a corpse rising from the grave, his ears pressed close to his skull. He took in the blurry shapes of his bedroom, his vision unclear with a combination of his eyes having not focused after he woke up yet as well as his lack of monocle and frowned distastefully. He knew he wouldn’t get anywhere without the thing though he could feel the phantom of a headache that tended to come along with wearing it. He then felt a familiar wetness on his jaw and his frown deepened. He lifted an ash black, clawed hand and wiped away the trail of drool trickling down his chin. He always hated that he drooled in his sleep and even more so that the habit followed him into the afterlife but Alastor found there was unfortunately nothing he could do about it.

Just then his stomach let out an almighty growl, making its emptiness known. Alastor huffed. He supposed he best stop procrastinating. He lifted his arms over his head and stretched until his joints gave an audible-and most likely consurning to others- crack. He sighed in satisfaction at this before he turned and lifted his blanket and sheet off his lap and turned to place his legs over the edge of his bed. The cold hard wood floors of his bedroom torched his sensitive hooves and caused an unpleasant shiver to run up his spine. Alastor cracked in annoyance. He reached for his bedside table and retrieved his monocle from the tabletop, placing it on his face and blinking as the blurred shades of red became clear.

He stood with a sharp toothed yawn and snapped his fingers. A silk robe appeared tied around his waist before he turned and trudged out of his bedroom and began to make the journey to his kitchen, static surrounding him and shadows trailing after him.

The throbbing of Angel's head served as his alarm, rousing him from sleep with sharp pulses of pain. When he opened his eyes the agony only increased as a large beam of sunlight shone through the window. He flinched and rolled over to try to mash his face into his pillow to block the light, only to roll off the edge of the bed. He hit the ground and hissed in pain, his body ached making its soreness known. He stood shakily, his head spinning and stomach lurching. Angel groaned. Another Saturday.

He thought. All of his limbs feeling heavy he trudged to the window. He had to shield his eyes as he approached to keep his headache at a manageable level. Finally, he yanked the curtains closed and sighed in relief as the room was plunged into darkness, turned and took in his surroundings. Loud red and purple, zebra patterns on the room's walls, decorations and even the bed. Geometric shaped furniture was spread throughout the room, a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Strewn along the floor were clothes that Angel recognized as his own, various sex toys and bodily fluids. He recognized the room immediately. His pimp Valentino's bedroom.

As Angel walked across the room to the pile of his discarded clothes on the floor he tried to put the pieces of last night together. After the launch of his latest movie Valentino was in a partying mood and, as such, dragged his entire crew, including Angel, along to the newest bar in town to celebrate. Angel winced as he lifted up his outfit from last night, his effort to jog his memory causing his headache to worsen. The outfit was a rather tight strapless dress made of leather with a high skirt line and a low neckline. He remembered that he didn't really like this dress; leather and fur didn't usually mix well and Angel didn't like sweating very much. He didn't mind it when he could take a shower soon after. But that wasn't the case last night. Immediately after the party Val had dragged him into his room to have a little ‘fun’. Angel looked over the rips and one particular large gash right through the side that Valentino had made in his drunken arousal. Angel knew better than to wince when the moth nicked him in the process. He looked down and saw blood caked onto his fur. He thought the gashes were worth it now that the dress was essentially torn to ribbons, maybe now Val would just throw it out.

He sighed and bent down to pick up his black sheer stockings, pulling them on immediately, neglecting to dress himself any further now that the part of his body he was most concerned with was covered. He then noticed his hellphone lying on the ground, and picked it up. Typing in his passcode he took notice of his messages. All from Valentino.

Val: hEy angelcakes hag a meting to git to u now what to do

Val: alsO dont forgit to cleen up after yorself

Angel sighed again and set a quick text to Cherri before getting to cleaning the room.

As Alastor strode through the long hallways of his radio tower his hooves clacked along the floors and his ears twitched in response. He knew that seeing as I’d had been quite some time since he had clipped or smoothed his hooves he was most likely leaving scratches in the linoleum in his wake but he couldn't find the energy nor concern to even turn around to check and simply continued walking.

He made it to his kitchen and made a beeline for his refrigerator. He opened it sluggishly and pulled out the first chunk of meat he could get his hands on. He peeled the plastic wrap half way down like the wrapper of a candy bar and shoved the unwrapped half into his mouth, he proceeded to gnaw on it as he walked into his dining room. However, instead of taking his usual seat at the head of the table he wandered about the room as he chewed on his breakfast. The ceilings of his manor felt especially tall today, the air especially cold. It made his fur stand on end and a shiver traveled up his spine. He grimaced and began to tap his foot. The ‘taptaptap’ grew louder and more rapid as it went on until he stamped his hoof on the floor with a frustrated growl.

“Why in the nine circles of hell is it so frigid in here!?” He groused. “ Really , this is hell for goodness sakes, how is it remotely cold anywhere ?” He most certainly did not stomp out of his dining room like a child. He was a dignified grown man and he walked as such. He did however throw the cut of shredded, random meat into the trash bin as he left. Seemed he had lost his appetite. Again.

After he'd taken care of the mess in Val's room Angel grabbed one of his robes and walked out of the penthouse and to the elevator, taking it down to the bottom floor. As he walked out of the doors of Vee tower he spotted a car parked directly in front of the building. It was rusty and beaten up, with quite a few dents but the engine seemed to still be running. In a flash of orange, white and pink Cherri Bomb leaned-perhaps a bit dangerously- out the window and waved him down. "Yo, Angie!" She shouted despite the fact that she was only about eight feet away from him, her singular eye bright.

Angel smiled, instantly feeling his mood lighten and ran up to the car, getting in and closing the door immediately. He grinned at his bestie. "Hey Suga’ tits, thanks for comin' so early in the mornin'." He said.

"'Course, Bitch, you know I'd do anything for you." She handed him a duffle bag. "Here ya go. Even managed to find some of your shoes under my bed!"

Angel sighed. "You're the best." He said taking the bag and beginning to climb into the back seat to change.

"I know."

Angel rolled his eyes, though with a grin. He sat in the back seat and unzipped the bag as Cherri started the car and began to drive off.

"By the way, Babe, since when do ya got a car? I was just gonna change in an alley or something."

"Oh, this ain't my car."

"...Then who's is it?"

"FUCK IF I KNOW!"

Angel burst out laughing.

Alastor huffed as he flipped the page in his book. He kicked out his hoof in a sudden fit of restlessness. He tried to ignore it and simply focus on reading his book but found that he wasn’t all that interested in it considering he had read this particular book at least seventy five times over. A growl erupted from the back of Alastor’s throat. He flopped over to lay horizontally across the arms of his chair. He stared up into the tall ceiling of his library, the balconies that lined the walls of shelves filled with books he knew no worse than the one on his hands. He knew he wouldn't find anything attention catching in this room today, he knew. But he also knew that out the doors of said room were long halls that he knew like the back of his hand that lead to more rooms that held nothing new nor free of the droning dull pang that seemed to follow him everywhere lately.

Perhaps a change of scenery was in order. But where to go? He hadn't heard from Mimzy in quite some time and concerningly enough he found the idea of hunting right now to feel more like a chore he should put off for as long as possible. He supposed he could pay a visit to Rosie however he knew that today Rosie's emporium was open and if her beloved shop was as busy as it always was that meant it would be rather crowded and his personal space bubble felt especially large and fragile today.

The question was: would possibly popping that bubble be better or worse than staying in his large, empty estate?

Angel slumped into the dirty booth of the restaurant he and Cherri drove to. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose to try to soothe his headache. "Fuck, Cherri, I feel like I got run over by fifteen semi trucks." He slurred. As Cherri sat down opposite of him he amended himself, however. "Actually, scratch that. Getting hit with fifteen semi trucks would be way more enjoyable."

"Damn. Sure you don't need some booze?" Cherri asked, kicking her feet up on the table.

Angel wrenched at the mere thought of alcohol and quickly swallowed the bile that rose in his throat before shaking his head. "Cherri, all I need right now is something greasy to eat and something with way too much sugar to wash it down." Cherri nodded. "Got it. Anything specific?" Angel waved his hand and rested his chin on his folded forearms. "You know what I like." He yawned.

Cherri nodded again and when the waiter came up she took up ordering while Angel looked out the window. Last night was the worst. Well maybe not the worst , Angel would probably put it at an 8.5, between that time he woke up taped to the ceiling of the studio and the time his co-workers encased him in Jello while he was blacked out. Both were a nightmare on his fur like last night was sure to be. Pretty fucked up that Angel had a scale, he knew, but what were you gonna do? Things never got better, just less worse. It just made Angel appreciate the little things. Sure his back was sore as fuck but at least he was positive he hadn't broken any bones.

He plucked at a loose thread on the collar of Cherri's old band tee he was wearing. Out the window he saw an imp couple strolling down the street, their intertwined hands swinging between them as they talked. The girl laughed at something the man whispered to her and Angel's heart ached. Not for the first time he wondered what it would be like to have someone like that. To have someone to talk with, someone who would hold him, make him feel safe, understood, wanted.

Once upon a time he thought he had that but…

Angel shook his head. He was being ridiculous. He was a whore for crying out loud! The whore never found love. They were always who the guy hooked up with before they found some sweet, perfect, good girl and rode off into the sunset.

A whore was destined for a quick fuck not a happily ever after.

He felt a tap on his shoulder that pulled him out of his stewing thoughts. He lifted his head up and was greeted by the sight of his best friend, giving him a gentle smile and gesturing to the tray now sitting on their table, laden with their food.

Alastor entered Cannibal town, greeting demons as he went. He gave a contented sigh. Yes, he liked that most demons were terrified of him but it was nice that the residents of cannibal town weren't, especially since they understood him and they were all so friendly! As he went he spotted some ladies crouched on the sidewalk tearing into a carcass of what appeared to be a bull demon. “My, my, what a nice catch! Congratulations ladies!” He complimented as he passed.

“Oh, Alastor, I didn’t know you were coming to town today!” A young lady in a sky blue lace dress exclaimed, taking care to even swallow before she spoke. “Oh, it’s quite a surprise for me as well, Jenny! But I feel like being out and about today!” Alastor replied over his shoulder.

“Well, if you’re heading to Rosie’s I feel I should tell you that the emporium is just swamped today.” Another young demon, in a pink dress, told him. Alastor waved his hand. “Oh, all the more reason for me to visit, surely she could use the extra hands!” He continued down the sidewalk, waving his hand to summon his cane and giving it a twirl.

“You ladies enjoy your breakfast!”

Angel and Cherri walked down the street together, the latter telling him about some schmuck she had to kick in the balls while Angel tried-and failed- to listen.

“And so the guy says ‘You have no idea who you’re messing with ' like, he really thought he was hot shit, can you believe that?”

“Uh huh, yeah, crazy…” Did Angel feel bad that he wasn't giving his best friend his full attention? Absolutely. But he just found it hard to focus today. His head was pounding and his thoughts wouldn't stop going back to last night. How sweaty and uncomfortable that dress was, how the crowd seemed to close in on him, how no one would stop touching him!

Cherri had noticed her friend's distraction and frowned, her eye darted back and forth on the cracked cement of the sidewalk before a metaphorical lightbulb went off in her head and she grinned. “Alright, enough mopin’, I know just the thing to make ya feel like a bad bitch again!”

Angel heaved a tired sigh. “Look Cherri I’m really not interested in any alcohol-”

“No booze!” Cherri promised, then paused and shrugged. “Well none for you anyway.”

“Where are we going then?” Angel asked. Cherri grabbed her friend's arm. “Come on!” She then took off, yanking him along with her.

Alastor opened the door to Rosie’s emporium and true to serafina’s word the emporium was bustling, throngs of people milling about, admiring the various products on display. Alastor weaved through the crowds until he made his way to the front of the store where Rosie was setting about tidying up.

“Rosie! Rosie, Darling!” He called, waving his arm above the crowd to get her attention.

Rosie looked up, her eyes lighting up upon seeing him. “Alastor? What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were visiting today.”

Alastor stepped past the last few demons separating them, pulling the woman into a hug. “Oh, I know, I simply had some time on my hands so I thought I’d come by and see you.”

Rosie smiled though her brows pinched upward, she turned back to the display stand she had been sorting. “Oh, Alastor you know I love you to bits and I love when we spend time together but the shop is so busy today- Oh, Darling that would look just devine on you!” She cut off the end of her sentence to address an imp who was admiring a dress on a mannequin in a window display.

Alastor threw his head back with a laugh. “All the more reason for me to stay, surely you could use more hands.” He did jazz hands to emphasize his point.

“Come now, I couldn't possibly ask you to-” Rosie began to say before Alastor interrupted her.

“Well then it’s a good thing I’m offering!” He stepped forward and took the garment she was folding from her hands, folding it with efficiency and placing it down atop with the others.

Rosie looked at him uncertainty. “Are you sure?” She asked.

“As ‘Shore’ as the edge of the sea!” Alastor assured brightly.

“Well, if you're sure, maybe you could restock these?-” Rosie turned and picked up a box. Alastor took the box from her hands immediately. “Consider it done!” He cheered before walking off to do just that.

“Cherri, What the fuck is this place.” Angel asked as they descended the concrete stairs.

Cherri grinned at him as she hopped down the steps two at a time. “This is ‘Six feet deeper’. It's an underground fight club, pretty cool right?”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “Hell has an underground fight club.”

“Yup!” Cherri replied, hopping down the last step and looking around at the many demons running around and yelling in either excitement or anger. The air reeked of aggressive masculinity, the copper of blood and… was that piss?

“And why are we here?” Angel asked at length as he came to stand beside her. Somebody's detached arm flew over the crowd and landed at his feet. “I told you!” Cherri exclaimed, grabbing his arm once again and tugging him through the crowd until they reached a table with a banner taped to the stone walls above it ‘Bets and sign up’ scrawled on it in crude hand. A bord looking weasel demon sat at the table, a cigarette and three cigars hanging from his lips. “This is the perfect place for you to blow off some steam!”

Angel's eyes widened. “Oh, no Cherri, I'm not in any shape to fight anybody.”

“Oh, come on Angie, this is just what’cha need,” Cherri insisted. She threw some mock punches in the air. ”To punch a bunch of drongos right in their arrogant faces and put all your anger into it! It’s, like, therapeutic or some shit.” She shrugged.

Angel made an uncertain sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t know.” He mumbled. “Aw, come on, Angie, please?” Cherri practically begged as she gave him her best puppy dog eye. Angel's face pinched and he held his breath for a bit as he weighed his options. He sighed. “Ok, look, I’ll watch the fights but I’m not gonna participate.” He conceded. Cherri punched him in the arm a little too hard for him. “I’ll take it!” She cheered. Then she led Angel to the table to get some tickets.

“Hello, there!”

The raccoon demon jumped as a smiling, deer demon poked his head around the mannequin she had been looking at.

“Um…hi?” She said, apprehensive. “Is there anything I can help you with?” The demon asked with a radio tint to his voice. His eyes pulsed with crimson light. The raccoon demon stuttered at the unsettling aura he seemed to give off. “O-oh, um, I was looking to buy this lovely dress!”

He looked from the dress to her, his smile firmly in place, making it extremely hard to read his expression. He straightened out a wrinkle she had left in the skirt of the dress. “I see,” He said cooly. “And were you looking to purchase anything else?”

“Oh, uh, no.” The woman replied. Then suddenly, she felt the prickle of static surrounding her, flushing out all the sounds around her and fogging her brain up. Her fur stood on end and she couldn't help but grit her teeth. Then something cut through the static and she felt all the color drain from her face. Pitch black eyes stared back at her, red radio dials for pupils that burned like hot coals and made her heart beat like a rabbit running from a wolverine.

“I-I mean, yes!” She shouted and in an instant the static dissipated. She gave a strained smile. “Yes, I was!” The demon straightened up looking like the cat that got the cream. “Excellent!” He exclaimed. “Do you need any help finding-”

“NO! Heh heh. No. I think I can manage.” She assured, backing away slowly before turning and running to the other side of the store. Alastor tilted his head at her. “Uh… Alastor, Sweetie?” A familiar voice said from behind him, causing his ears to perk.

“Ah, Rosie! Another customer helped! You’re very welcome, Dear!” Alastor said as he turned around. Rosie’s smile was genuine though her brows were pinched. “Yes thank you so much, Darlin’, I really appreciate it…but…maybe we should find a new job for you.” She said gently.

“Oh?”

Rosie pressed her palms together and pointed her fingertips at Alartor. “It’s simply that- you know how other demons fear you.” She stated. “Yes.” Alastor said with a great deal of pride.

“And that can make it difficult to interact with customers.” Rosie explained further. “I see.” Alastor nodded. He supposed that did make sense.

“Perhaps we should find a better job where your strengths lay more.” Rosie suggested.“Anything I can do to help your business, My dear!” Alastor exclaimed, tossing his cane in the air and catching it. Rosie smiled.

Angel sat in the stands, trying very hard not to focus on his headache and instead focus on the brawl happening inside the caged ring in front of him, which was hard when the cheering of the crowd only made the pulsing worse.

“YEAH! FUCK ‘EM UP!” Cherri shouted, as a panther demon suplexed an alligator demon- who was clearly losing on purpose- into the mat. Angel flinched and nearly growled at her to ‘ SHUT UP .’ before he realized what a dick move that would be especially at a fucking fight match. He groaned and dragged his hands down his face. God, he was so tired. He wanted to go home, cuddle with his pig and hide under the covers and pretend there was no leaky roof or cigarette burns on his arms or psychopathic moth’s until sleep overtook him.

“Angie?”

Angel legitimately jumped and flinched away at the concerned calling of his name and the hand on his arm that came with it. It was gentle but all Angel could think of was hands on his waist and arms and ass and he wanted to scream and cry. JUST DON’T FUCKING TOUTCH ME, STOP TOUTCHING ME, PlEASE, JUST LET ME GO- suddenly he has shaken out of his stupor both literally and metaphorically, he turned his head and saw Cherri looking at him with a creased brow and a clenched jaw. “You okay?” She asked. Angel then realized he was hyperventilating a bit and put what little focus he had left into making it stop, or at least try to do it in a less obvious way. “Yeah, yeah… I’m fine.” He finally managed.

“You sure? Cause-”

“YES, I’m sure!” Angel snapped. Causing Cherri’s eyelid to flare in shock and Angel immediately felt like the shittiest friend ever.

“I-I’m sorry, fuck , I’m sorry, Cherri, its just-” He took a long breath in and let it out in a tired sigh. “I had a long night last night and I know ya mean well, Baby, but I don’t think this is what I needed.”

“What are ya talkin’ about? This is how I always get ya ta feel better after a shit night!” CherrI threw her arms out towards the cage with a grin. There was a howl of pain and the side of her face got splattered with blood. Angel didn’t know how to tell her that wasn't exactly true. So instead he said, “Cherri, I think I should go home and get some sleep.”

Cherri’s brow creased more and she looked forlorn but resigned. “O-okay, um, do ya need me to give ya a ride home? Ya can sleep on the drive over.” She suggested.

Angel shook his head. “I appreciate it, Suga’ tits but I think I need the walk, you enjoy ya bloodbath.” He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek then stood to leave. However before he was able to even make it to the door the alligator demon was suplexed by the bulky jaguar demon leading the crowd to break out into cheers that made Angels ears ring. He growled before shouting, “Oh, shut the fuck up! Of course that guys gonna look good if you put him up against him !” He gestured from the Alligator to the jaguar.

The room went silent and everyone in the stands had turned to Angel whose shoulders hunched as he grimaced; he hadn't meant to yell, his hangover and lack of proper sleep was just getting to him. Then behind him he heard a sharp perce of microphone feedback before a low voice growled out. “What did you just say?”

Angel turned to look over his shoulder and saw the Jaguar- what was his name again? Muhammad… Monroe… no, no it wasn't that, it was something else, anyway, he had managed to snatch the referee's mic somehow and was now glaring daggers at Angel from the center of the ring .

“What did you just say about me!?” He asked. Angel gritted his teeth. “Look, man, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that, I'm just… not myself today.”

“No excuses!” The Jaguar shouted. ”Nobody speaks to Monches that way!” Ah, he was one of those guys who referred to himself in the third person, okay then. Well at least now Angel knew his name. But he felt his headache pulsing harder now he pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to speak as calmly as possible.

“Look man, I really am sorry, it's just- come on, it's not like it wasn't obvious. I mean, are we talking about the same fight here?” He gave a chuckle, going for a ‘lightening the mood’ sort of tone but when Monches bared his teeth it was clear he had only succeeded in giving off the opposite effect.

“ Enough! ” He shouted once again, his tail lashing. “You think that you know so much about the art of combat? You think you could do better? Come up here and prove it! FIGHT ME !”

Angel looked at the Jaguar with an incredulous expression. “Are we having the same conversation here? I'm pretty sure I didn't even get a chance to answer your question.”

“ Fight me !” Monches roared. “Where is your self respect? Fight me !”

“What the fuck, Dude? NO, I'm not going to fight you!” Angel threw his arms out. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? He rolled his eyes. ”Look, just forget I said anything.” He turned and began to make his way back to the exit once more as Monches continued shouting at him.

“Very well, leave, what should I expect from a cowardice faggot such as yourself!”

Angel stopped in his tracks. Behind him he distantly heard Cherri say, “Oh, shit, now he’s done it.”

Angel slowly turned to look over his shoulder, his gaze just as eerily calm as his voice as he asked, “What did you just call me?”

Monches didn’t back down, either not understanding or being too stupid to care that he had made a grave error. “You heard me. You are a FA-” He went to say once again but cut himself off with a scream of pain as a bullet was shot right through his shoulder and sent clattering down to the mat behind him. Monches clutched at his shoulder, breathing heavily and bearing his teeth as he glared with wild eyes at Angel whose gun was still aimed at the jaguar.

“Klein baster!” Monches shouted.

“Alright, Pussycat ,” Angel spat as he approached the ring and jumped clean over the caged wall to land right in front of the broad feline.

“You want a fight? You got one. ”

“There we are!” Alastor exclaimed as he tucked the garment into a paper shopping bag and gently pushed it across the counter to the customer. “Thank you very much for shopping at Rosie’s emporium!”

The customer smiled with a nod and picked the bag up off of the counter. “Thank you!”

Alastor watched as the young imp women left the establishment, the doors closing behind her. Rosie then walked up to him, looking from the door to him with a proud smile. “Oh, Alastor, ya did just great!”

“Oh, thank you, my Dear, it’s an absolute pleasure helping you.” He replied. “And good news you can go home now!” Rosie exclaimed.

A record scratch. “Beg pardon?” Alastor asked. Rosie smiled. “You were a very big help today but I think my staff and I can handle it from here.”

Alastor blinked and before Rosie could ask if he was alright there was a crash from behind them. She turned around to see Alastors little minions had toppled over a display and were jumping around and tossing the scattered goods between themselves, giggling gleefully.

Alastor gasped with faux indignantsy. “How entirely disrespectful!” He shouted walking through the little opening in the checkout counter and over to the little creatures, his hands on his hips while looking down at them disapprovingly. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, treating Rosies establishment so terribly!” He then turned back to Rosie. “Oh but don’t worry, Darling, I’ll have this cleaned up in a jiffy!”

He then bent down and began to pick items off the floor one by one instead of using his magic and as Rosie watched on as he tipped the display back up, she started to get the feeling that something was wrong.

“Uh, Angie,Ya sure ya wanna do this?”

Angel turned to look over his shoulder at Cherri as she entered the locker room. He gestured to the pink and black tank top and shorts he had changed into. “What do you think?” He asked. He turned so his back was facing her and began to adjust the wraps on his hands.

Cherri crossed the locker room to stand in front of him.“Angie, look I get it, If I were you I’d beat that guy's ass too but you said you wanted to go home.”

“Oh, so now ya want me to go home? What happened to wanting me to feel like a ‘badass bitch’?” Angel retorted. “Angel-” Cherri said, dropping the nickname only to be interrupted by said arachnid.

“You heard what that figlio di puttana called me!” He snarled, pointing backwards at the door that led back to the ring. “He wanted to fight me? Fine! And you can either sit in the stands to support me or go home. What’s it gonna be, Cherri?”

Cherri grimmaced and flinched back at her best friend's words. Her eye lowered to the ground as she thought through her options, Angel standing there and silently waiting for her to say something.

Eventually Cherri looked up. “I’ll be front row, center.” She said. She then left the locker room and Angel didn’t see her again until he was back in the ring and she was in fact cheering wildly from the front row. He smiled to himself at this before he heard a low growl from in front of him, he looked up and rolled his eyes as he saw Monches glaring at him once more, his feet in a wide stance as if ready to pounce and perhaps he was.

Angel made it a point to look away as visually uninterested as possible before the ref stepped in the center of the ring, mic in hand. “Alright you sick degenerates, you ready to see some blood ?!” Asked the weasel demon in a slimy growl.

He gestured to Monches. “In the right corner we have twelve time heavyweight champion Monches: the massacrer!” Then to Angel. “And in this corner is hell's sexiest demon, the one, the only Angel Dust!”

Angel didn't bother showboating even as the audience erupted into crazed cheers, instead he locked his right arms over his chest with his left arms and repeated it on the other side. The ref continued to drone on about the rules- or rather: lack of rules- while Angel only focused on the practically salivating feline in front of him. He only absently noticed the ref leave the ring and secure the cage door before rushing into the stands to take bets. Angel didn't hear anything clearly until the bell gave a ring and Monches sprinted at him. He didn't move until the jaguar was halfway across the ring. He grabbed onto the cage wall behind him and used his upper body strength to pull himself up, curling his legs in before kicking Monches square in the face and sending him flying across the ring and slamming into the opposite cage wall before finally falling to the ground.

And just like that it was over. Angel stood back up and walked over to the now unconscious jaguar as the audience- save Cherri- and all the employees stared in shock. He rolled Monches over with the toe of his boot and smiled in satisfaction as he saw Monches’s nose starting to purple and bleeding profusely. Finally he gave one last hard stomp to his crotch before turning and leaving the ring.

As he made his way back to the locker room he refused any of the employees offers for a cut of the bet money and instead went and changed before making his way to the stairs and back up to the street. He took a deep breath as he processed the fact that even though the air was definitely fresher out here, it was only by a little bit which still left his mood in the ballpark of ‘absolute shit’. It wasn't long before Cherri came running up the stairs behind him as well.

“Angie ya were fucking great!” She exclaimed. Angel didn't look at her, instead he turned his back to her and started walking down the street in the direction of this apartment. “Yeah… thanks.” He muttered. His best friend stared after him for a moment before she jogged up to meet his pace. “ Whoa, whoa, hey. The hell's goin’ on with ya today?”

Angel didn't know how to answer that question and the more and more he thought about possible answers the more frustrated he became. Until he let out a wordless groan and threw his hands up in the air. “UHG, I dunno it's just…” He let his arms fall down and slap his thighs. He sighed. “Dontcha want something better than this sometimes, Cherri?”

The redhead blinked at him, clearly not understanding his question, which was only further prominent when she gave her response. “What are ya talkin’ about? What could be better than this?” She said with a laugh.

Angel only gave another heavier sigh before turning to jerk out of his friend's hold and continue to walk down the sidewalk the way he was going. “I'm going home, CherrI. I'm tired.” He said. Cherri didn't follow him this time. She stood on the corner of the road and continued to stare after her friend with an odd look in her eye. Eventually though she forced a sharp toothed grin and gave a small wave. “Yeah… okay, yeah, see you later!” She called.

Alastor sat up and wiped at his brow with the back of his hand. “Fyew! That ought to do it!” He commented as he examined the freshly waxed floor of the emporium. He began packing away his utensils and stood as Rosie approached. “Yes, it looks very nice, Alastor.” She complemented genuinely, if a little strained. “And now that you’re finished you can head home, you must be exhausted.” She said, her hands clasped. Alastor, however, barely acknowledged her. He looked up at the ceiling. “Perhaps I should wax the ceiling as well, to tie it all together.” He mused. “No! No.” Rosie insisted. Alastor turned to look at her. “Alastor, Sweetheart, I very much appreciate how much you’ve helped today but I just don't need your help anymore and it’s getting rather late.” She continued much more calmly. Alastors smile shrank and his ears fell back a bit. He took notice of this and turned so his back was facing Rosie.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on with you? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to avoid going back to your home as long as possible.”

Alastor didn’t respond. Rosie frowned deeper and deeper as the pieces started to click into place. She looked at her friend for a long time before putting a hand on his shoulder, causing Alastor to jump a bit. Her heart ached. “Why don't you go get some rest, Honey?” she suggested. “You’ve done a lot today. But I’ll see you on Thursday for our usual brunch, alright?”

Alastor gave a sigh and turned back to her, smiling in a way that to anyone else would look just like all his other smiles but Rosie saw how it didn't reach his eyes. “I suppose you're right, Darling. I shouldn't keep you up all night. It was a pleasure spending the day with you.” He said and left the emporium before Rosie could respond.

Angel had meant to head straight home. He had and he almost made it when his phone rang. He pulled it out and opened it to see a message from Valentino.

Val: Tower. Now.

Oh, fuck, that can’t be good. Angel thought. He knew that the less words Valentino typed in a text to him the more serious he was. Angel looked up at his apartment. He knew that Fat Nuggets was waiting inside for him and that he hadn't eaten all day. Maybe he could sneak up there real quick just to put some food in his bowl and then run down to the tower as fast as he could?

If you don't get to the studio as fast as you can you may not have a pet pig to feed anymore. His mind whispered to him.

He gave one last grimacing look at the building then sent off a mental apology to his pig before dashing in the direction of Vee Tower.

Despite the fact that Alastor took the same route both ways, the walk back to his radio tower from Rosie's Emporium seemed longer than the walk that he took to get there. Perhaps his own feet were slowing him down subconsciously, perhaps he knew this, perhaps he wanted to pretend that he didn't. But all the same he was annoyed by it, regardless, because that only meant more and more time spent walking down the sidewalks of hell as demons alike scattered at the mere sight of him but at the same time Alastor was able to catch glances before they froze in fear of his visage; glances of happy couples walking hand in hand, of families taking a stroll through the park, of friends chatting at an outdoor table just in front of the cafe.

Alastor felt a pit in his stomach and didn't know if he wanted to get home sooner or not.

Regardless, he kept walking and he kept smiling.

By the time Angel had made it back to the tower he was heaving labored breaths from a combination of nerves and exertion. He held himself up with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He only allowed himself a moment's rest, however, before he stood back up and put on his cocky porn star persona and strutted into the lobby. People stared at him as he made his way to the elevator which Angel was used to but he knew that they weren't the usual ravenous stares he was used to, he knew that people were staring at him now because of how awful he looked. He felt his face heat with embarrassment. He made sure to walk to the elevator as fast yet surreptitiously as possible. When he reached it, however, before he could press the button, the doors opened themselves, Peppermint standing on the other side. Vox’s assistant looked up from his clipboard and his eyes widened.

“Oh, Angel Dust, you're here, good!” He said and stepped to the side to make room in the car for Angel. “Valentino sent me to escort you to him, come along.” Angel stepped into the car without a word and no more words were exchanged during the ride either. They stopped on the topmost floor and Peppermint led the way down the hall until they came to an open set of double doors that led to a parlor where Vox and Valentino were waiting.

Peppermint rapped his knuckles gently against the doorframe, causing the overlords to look up. When Valentino saw Angel a slimy grin made its way onto his face that never ceased to make a chill travel up the arachnids spine.

“Angel-cakes, Baby, so glad you could make it.” Val greeted and gestured for Angel to get closer. Angel walked into the room and took a seat on the moth demon's lap. “Hi, Daddy, ya needed something’ from me?” He asked. Valentino took a puff of his cigarette and nodded. “Sure do, Baby-cakes,” He turned and picked up an envelope from the table next to him then passed it to Angel.

“What’s this?” Angel asked as he reached into the envelope and pulled out its contents.

Val tapped the top of the envelope with his opera length cigarette holder, causing a bit of ash to fall onto Angel’s lap. He resisted flinching through years of practice. “This is an invitation from the king of hell himself to a gala for all the overlords in hell.” Val explained as Angel looked over the peice of cardstock that was in the envelope that read just that.

“Apparently it’s to establish good will between us overlords or some shit. This is going to be an annual thing and this is the first one.” He then raised an eyebrow in Angel's direction. “And guess what? You’re gonna be my plus one.”

“Oh… really?” Angel asked, his eyes flitted away for a moment then back to his boss. “This kinda thing aint really my scene though, Val.”

Valentino cooed and took Angel’s chin in his hand. “Oh, I know, Baby, but don't you worry your pretty little head, Daddy will be there to make sure you don't embarrass yourself.”

Angel forced a smile. “Thank you, Daddy.” Valentinos own grin only grew. “Good boy.” He said before looking down at Angel’s outfit, finally taking it in. “Now, why don’t you get down to your dressing room and change into something prettier, hm? While you were out I had someone go shopping for you to get you a new dress for the party and a few other presents for you.”

Angel nodded. “Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy.” He slipped off Val’s lap and went back into the hallway without a word and down the hall to his dressing room.

Alastor entered his estate and shut the door behind him, the sound echoed off the walls of the entry hall, leaving a far too loud silence in its wake. Alastor leaned his back against the dark oaker wood of his front door and took the biggest breath he could. He let it out in a slow huff, his smile dropping concurrently. Instead of simply standing up straight he used his hands to push himself off the door and began making his way down the hall, his ears twitching at his heels clicked against the floor and the noise only amplified as he reached the foyer. He walked up the stairs and on auto pilot, walks the familiar path to his office as his mind is muddled with thoughts of so many things and nothing once or ever.

He only realized he had made it to his destination when he almost walked right into the door. He stepped back a few paces and blinked at the wood as his sluggish brain processed what had happened. Eventually it connected, though and he gave another tired sigh as he ran his hand through his hair before turning the doorknob and opening the door.

As he walked into his office he looked out the floor to ceiling window that took up the left wall and was surprised to see that it was dark out. He turned to look at the clock on the wall just behind his desk and saw that it was 8 o’clock. Had he really been out that late? He supposed that was his intention but…

He shook his head and marched towards his desk. As he got closer he noticed stacks of envelopes on his desktop. It was his shadow minions job to bring him his mail and he supposed that they had left it here so that he could find it when he got back. Strange they didn’t just bring it to him. He picked up the stack of envelopes and began sorting through it. It was mostly your average junk mail and he burned those ones. The last envelope however caught his attention, he raised an eyebrow. It was a golden envelope sealed shut with a red wax seal with a symbol of a snake wrapped around an apple embedded into it. The royal symbol.

His curiosity now thoroughly piqued, he used his claw to open the envelope and pulled its contents out: A golden piece of cardstock lined at the edges with shimmering red foil snakes. Alastor read over the message inscribed on the cardstock in crimson calligraphy.

A gala for all of the overlords in hell? He thought. Intriguing to be sure but Alastor was never quite a fan of mingling with the other overlords, most of them were pompous, simpletons that thought themselves far above the rest of sinners and quite possibly the rest of hell. And spending an entire night in the same room as them? That wasn’t exactly Alastors definition of a good time… Although… Galas did tend to last well into the morning. Alastor looked around his big empty office and to the door that he knew led to an equally empty estate then back to the invitation and the date inscribed on it. He would be out of the house the day after the gala on business. Alastor waved his hand and the envelope was set inside one of his desk drawers and his calendar was marked.

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