Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Things really couldn’t get any worse. After going to college and getting a degree, you started a standard corporate job that you hoped would lead you to bigger and better things, just the start of your career. Turns out it was the start of a living hell, an endless cycle of incompetent coworkers shoveling their work off onto you with the promise of “returning the favor” (they never did), hundreds of calls a day with the same condescending customers that your boss refuses to turn away because they can pay a pretty penny, and exhaustion that never seems to fade, even after a weekend of nothing but hermitting in your dingy apartment. The gray walls of your cubicle were stained in your mind even as you mindlessly watched TV in a hopeless attempt of relaxation.

Work. Cry. Sleep. Cry some more. REPEAT. That was your life.

It’s quite possibly the worst way that life could’ve turned out. Sure at least having a stable job and a roof over your head was nice, but it’s all so tiresome. There’s no time for yourself in this colorless routine you’ve found yourself in, and even when there is, every twinge of excitement and joy you used to feel is numbed.
Being off work for the weekend only offers a flicker of relief when you stumble through the door of your home and clumsily kick off your shoes, almost falling in the process. You don’t stop by your kitchen to eat and drag your cumbersome form to the twin-sized bed in the corner of a far too small room, flopping down on it with a creek. A sigh leaves your lips as you groan into the mattress and feel around the side table next to your bed blindly in search of something to knock you out for the rest of the night. After knocking countless items on their side or completely off the table, you grab a medium-sized bottle that rattles with movement.

Ah, melatonin my love.

Flicking off the cap with your thumb and dumping a handful of the small, white pills in your hand, you sit up and throw a few back in your mouth, washing it down with the day-old water you thankfully didn’t knock over on your sightless scavenge. You repeat the action until all the melatonin is gone. It's a fleeting notion that the amount of pills you just took might have been too much, even with the tolerance you’ve built up over surrendering to the drug countless nights, but they’ve already been swallowed and all you can do is shrug it off.
Rolling onto your side with a pained groan, the re-adjustment does little to soothe the ache in your back, and the crick in your neck. You find yourself grappling with the all-too-familiar ache as you succumb to the weight of slumber, feeling your thoughts gently drift away into the realm of sleep.

The peaceful void offers little comfort when you feel yourself drop.

Hot, rushing wind can suddenly be felt from all sides, a dense suffocating heat despite the rushing of the air flowing past you. Your limbs flail in an attempt to find purchase on a nonexistent wall at the sudden drop. A scream bubbles in your throat but your mouth is stuck shut, along with your eyes as you plummet. Your heart hammers in your chest as the fear of pain when you’ll hit the ground races through your mind, terror spreading like fire throughout your body.

And then you were still.

The warmth of slightly wet gravel pressed against your skin and you jolted upright, eyes blown and lungs gasping for breath. The air was thick, with an almost spicy taste as you heaved to gain enough oxygen in your lungs to calm down. Your other senses were also being assaulted by the sudden change in the atmosphere as your eyes adjusted to a glowing red sky and sounds of mayhem coming from outside of the alleyway you found yourself in.

An alleyway? You squinted and looked around, finally calming down and processing that you were indeed NOT in the uncomfortably bed that you fell asleep in.

“Speaking of fell what the FUCK.” You whisper screamed as you looked around and down at your scraped-up hands sprinkled with gravel.

You had finally lost it, you thought. A breakdown from stress had finally thrown your mind into the depths of a psychotic episode and you were hallucinating about being in some dystopian world. Anything else must be better than Earth huh?

Eventually, your brain was able to come to terms with the fact that you were somewhere probably not safe and that you should PROBABLY get out of the secluded alleyway you’d been disassociating in for the past 10 minutes. With a huff, you pushed yourself off the ground, wobbling at first, but after a bit of stretching walking without too much trouble.

Peaking your head around the corner of the desolate brick wall of one of the buildings in the alley, you gawked at the seemingly unbelievable picture in front of you. It was a city filled with fire and graffitied pavement, chaos simmering at every turn. Figures of all shapes, sizes, and colors ambled along the streets. In this fantastical scene, some of the beings had horns jutting from their heads, while others had fuzzy ears and tails. Some of the creatures possessed extraordinary features, such as body parts made of otherworldly substances, or even elements like fire and water. The magical energy emanating from these creatures filled the air, leaving you in a state of bewilderment and awe as you beheld this truly otherworldly spectacle.

Your brain was working overtime trying to take everything in, causing you to not notice a tall figure approaching from behind. A crunch of gravel could be heard from behind you, making you whip around as a hand shot out from the darkness to try and grab you. You leaned back with a yelp, causing the person to just miss you. Your eyes barely registered the figure when your legs began carrying you away from the alley and out into the open street. Eyes were drawn towards you, many with a look of surprise and others with a predatory glint that told you you needed to keep going. Humid air burned in your eyes as you sprinted through the bustling street. The blaring of a car horn made you snap your head up and stumble out of the way of the zooming vehicle, tripping into the middle of the road. You sputter, wheezing, trying to stand back up in the dizzying chaos of careless drivers. Ignoring the scrapes littering your body and forcing your legs to push you off the asphalt and back to the sidewalk, your foot getting caught on the curb and throwing you back onto the ground.

“Eugh….” you murmured as you lay, looking up at the red sky. With a weary glance, it was apparent that you had rolled into a different alleyway than the one you originally woke up in.
“Oh, how fun.” You grumble with a deep frown. Wherever you were, it was complete anarchy. The hope of asking someone where you were had fizzled out as soon as you had to run for your life from some demon creature.

Wait…demon? There’s no way that-

“Ya comfy down there toots?” Leaning over you was a lanky anthropomorphic arachnid, a wide smirk that flashed a gold tooth and sharp teeth plastered across its face. Mismatched eyes wandered your form with a mix of amusement and astonishment. It stood back up to its full height, the size of the creature amazing you as he put one of his many hands on his hips and tilted his head, fluffy white hair bouncing as he did.
“No.” You stated, causing the man to bark out a laugh.

“Eh, I shoulda’ assumed. Anybody waken’ up here is bound to get a bit…” He looked you over, “roughed up. And shit, you look just like a human. Ya all soft and squishy.” He pokes you in the side, making you yelp. You scramble to your feet to get some distance from him and press your back against the wall of a building. He rolls his eyes and leans against the building across from the one your back is to.
With a sigh, he moves his hands in an explanatory manner.

“Surprise, ya died, ya weren’t very good in life so now ya gotta be in hell for the rest of your afterlife, blah blah blah.” His annoyed ramble trails off. He looks back down at you, noticing your befuddled stare.

“Ya look confused, how hard was your fall because I think it’s pretty simple.” He crossed his arms, shifting his weight. “Look I don’t got time for this-”

“Wait no I get it I’m just…not sure what to do now that I’m here.” You admitted, eyes flickering around nervously. Sirens blared in the background of the awkward silence

He scoffs and goes to walk off but pauses. A flash of sympathy, as if he’s looking at a lost puppy, crosses his gaze. He knows you won’t last a day on your own, especially with such a weak form. He sticks out one of his lower arms to offer you a hand, which you take without much hesitation.
“There’s a hotel I’ve been stayin’ at, a girlie there that might know what to do with ya. Wanna come with?” He asks with a strained smile.

It’s not like you have anything better to do, your mind is still reeling from the fact that he just told you that you’re in literal, burning hot, fire and brimstone hell. So you clutched the stranger’s hand and nodded, hope flowing back into your soul. The man looked at you with an uncomfortable frown and tugged his hand out from yours.

“Calm down babe, touchy-feely stuff comes with a price and I betcha ain’t got no money on ya. At least not enough to afford me~” He says with a flourish. “ M’name’s Angel Dust though, how bouts yours?”
You stare at him for a second. Your name? What was it…Shit, you don’t remember. You don’t remember much of anything. Your face scrunches in frustration as you attempt to recall things about your life, the important bits that seem to get fuzzy when you try and look closer at them. It takes you a moment, but you do remember it, just barely, and mutter it out to Angel Dust.

“Nice, now let’s get goin’ before people start tryna eat ya up.” He begins to saunter off, heels clicking along the pavement. With every stride he makes, you find yourself needing to take three steps to keep pace, forcing you to quicken your stride.

The walk to the hotel was spent mostly with awkward silence. Angel Dust tried asking you questions, but things were still muddled in your mind.

Past job? Something in a cubicle.

Lovers left behind? Their faces are all mixed up.

Favorite alcoholic drink? Did you even like the taste of alcohol?

Angel Dust eventually resigned himself to silence, crossing his lower set of arms and using the other ones to fiddle with his phone as you walked along the streets. He had taken the time to vaguely explain that this was Pentagram City (go figure there’s a giant pentagram in the sky), a few things about hell, and the hotel. You gave him a disbelieving sideways glance when he spoke about trying to get rehabilitated at the hotel, considering he was saying that with a flask full of liquor in his hand and was a porn star, but who were you to judge?

You tried asking other things about him but mostly got shut down with sex jokes and innuendos. He seemed like a nice enough guy though, maybe way too horny, but nice enough.

The walk was just short to get the blood flowing through your legs without exhaustion, and long enough to let you know that under no circumstances could you leave what you hoped to be your haven alone. Angel Dust even commented on how weird it was that you hadn’t been turned into a demon. All the sinners that died and fell were given different, but sturdier forms. You protested that you were still a human, but he seemed to dismiss it as an impossible feat.

Coming into view as you began to scale a hill was a tall building with soft yellow lights glowing through the windows. Red bulbs flickered at the very top, spelling out the words “Hazbin Hotel”.

Okay, that name is genius.

The hotel itself is made up of dark reds and browns, all fitting in with the aesthetic of the setting it sits in, along with the lawn art of a pentagram on the front lawn. The exterior of the main building was embellished with light-up arrows that illuminated different areas of the structure. Adjacent to the building, there were additions including a small tower.

“Hopefully Smiles ain’t here, cus he’ll kill ya in less than a second just for the fun of it.” Angel Dust murmurs when he notices you staring at the tower built into the hotel. An “On Air” sign flashes, making him sigh with relief and tug you hurriedly into the hotel.

“Aye Charlie! Got some fresh meat for ya!” He calls out into the lobby. Your jaw drops for the millionth time in an hour when you begin to take in the antique design of the building’s interior. Wine-red walls embellished with gold and mahogany surround you as you step along the previously spotless floors. You purse your lips when you notice you’ve dragged gravel and dirt into the formally clean space. But just as soon as you mourn the polished floor, a broom is sweeping at your feet making you squeak and hop out of the way. A tiny woman with red hair and a singular large eye is scolding you, muttering ‘Clean clean clean floors!’. She dusted the muck into a dustpan before climbing up you with manic laughter.

“A human?! How’d you get down here?” She said with a gleeful smile, continuing to crawl over you and poke at your flesh. Angel Dust grabbed her by the back of her dress and plopped her on the ground next to him.

“Down Niffty.” He joked. A tall girl with blonde hair in a red suit rushed over with a look of disbelief.

“Angel, is that…” She walked over to you, looking you over. Her expression was caught between excitement and concern as she tried to make sense of the short being in her lobby.

“I don’t think they’re ACTUALLY human.” Angel Dust groans dismissively. “That ain’t something that can happen…I assume.” He goes back to looking at his phone.

The girl bites the inside of her cheek, staring down at you contemplatively.

“Well, I’m Charlie, and um, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” She flourishes her arms and smiles down at you. “It’s my dream to help sinners get rehabilitated, and earn their way into heaven! I’m sure in your case maybe we could…find you a way back to Earth?” She pauses, putting a hand up to her chin. “Do you remember how you died? Or, if you even died? Was there a sin you committed that could have ended you up here in hell?”

You explained that you didn’t remember dying. Of course, you did take a lot of melatonin before bed, but there’s no way THAT’s what killed you.

Ain’t no way I overdosed on melatonin, no way that could happen. Even people that have taken an entire bottle haven’t died, and I REFUSE TO HAVE BEEN TAKEN OUT BY SOME DAMN SLEEPING PILLS.

You snapped out of your internal rant when Charlie continued staring at you expectantly. She was waiting to know what sin you committed. Unless you did something in your sleep, or the mess of forgotten memories you couldn’t seem to recall, you had lived a pretty average life. Nothing monumental stuck out that would deem you worthy of eternal damnation, and you sure as hell didn’t believe that you would’ve done something highly immoral. Nevertheless, you were in hell, and maybe you did do something awful that you just couldn’t seem to remember. In the end, something you could remember was the words of a famous drag queen, the straightest thing she’d ever done…

“I killed a guy.”

Charlie, nor the other people in the room seemed too surprised, or suspicious that you were lying. It was better to try and come off as at least a little threatening than not threatening whatsoever, though you were already losing that battle. Two out of the three people in the room with you were much taller than you, and unlike them, your body was soft, warm, and pumping with human blood which made you much more vulnerable than them.

“WELL THEN,” Charlie exclaimed, “As you know I’m Charlie, that’s Niffty, our maid,” she pointed over to the short cyclops chasing around a bug, “You’ve met Angel, and we have a bar over there and our lovely bartender Husk!” She points at a melancholic cat demon with red feathered wings, who’s chugging a bottle of alcohol. Charlie laughed nervously and continued.
“Then there’s my girlfriend Vaggie helps me run the place, and I’m sure you’ll come across our facility manager once he’s done with his radio show, Al-”
Out of nowhere, a sudden burst of black smoke erupted amid the group. The air crackled with intense static, and dark tendrils began to slither along the floor, slowly coalescing into the shape of a looming, seven-foot-tall figure. As the figure reached its full height, the darkness dissolved to reveal a chillingly wide, toothy grin with rows of sharp, yellow teeth.

Okay, maybe there ARE worse things than a corporate job.

Chapter Text

“WELL HELLOOOO! You’re looking at the Hotel’s esteemed hotelier, Alastor! Pleasure to meet you dear, QUITE a pleasure~” he mused. The demon bent at the waist, positively buzzing with excitement as he shook your hand, ragdolling you towards him. His beady pupils stared straight into yours as if waiting for you to speak, but you couldn’t help but focus on that fuck ass bob interesting hair cut.

“Hello? Hellooooo anybody in there dear?” The radio filter in his voice intensifies, “It’s rude to ignore a new acquaintance you know. I’m quite interested to know the name of such a small thing popping up in our humble hotel! Why, I haven’t seen such a marvelous puzzle since coming to this hotel and hearing Charlie’s delusional dream!” He chirped, giving a hearty laugh at his own joke. He spoke with a slight transatlantic accent and had the suit to match. It was crisp until his tailcoat, where it was heavily tattered. Much like everything else in hell, he was overwhelming. However, his eccentric attitude and over the top speech was something else. His whimsical behavior was intense, the abruptly theatrical interaction started you. An attempt to take a step back and get some distance was met with the tightening of his claws around your much smaller hand.

“(Y/n), my name is (Y/n).” You sputtered out, lightly tugging on your hand as his nails pricked into your skin painfully. He hummed in satisfaction and let you go, but continued looking down at you, an unreadable smile plastered across his face. Angel Dust stepped in between you both with a scowl.

“Hey Smiles, let’s give the newbie some space, you’re freakin’ them out.” He tugged you back by your shoulders. Alastor just laughed dismissively, shrugging and looking away with fictitious innocence.

 “Oh Angel Dust I’m just doing my job of welcoming our new resident! What kind of host would I be if I didn’t give a proper introduction.” He spoke while adjusting his tie with his right hand. In the other he sported a cane, the handle designed like a small radio with an eye that you could’ve sworn blinked at you.

Everyone in the room, discounting Niffty, stared at him with their own version of discomfort. Husk and a girl standing in the corner with a big red X over one of her eyes glared with more disgust than the others, but the room’s mildly peaceful atmosphere had become weighted with tension. Charlie started explaining your situation to Alastor, hands waving around to illustrate the complexity of your being there and the different possibilities that could have landed you in your situation.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you looked down at your mildly injured hand, tiny pinpricks of blood speckled from where Alastor’s claws had pierced your tender skin. Your body ached from your fall into hell and your mini adventure to escape the jaws of a hungry demon. Eyes wandering down to your body, you took in the sight of your scraped-up pants and dirty clothes. Charlie noticed this and rushed back over to you with a weary smile.

“Ah, you must be exhausted! I’m so sorry I should have thought about how hard it must be being in a new place and being all roughed up. Let’s get you to a room where you can freshen up and get some rest. She grasped your hand and quickly led you through the halls of the hotel. It didn’t take much walking through the ornate velvet passage to come to a vacant room.“We don’t have a lot of residents right now, so if you don’t like this room I could always give you another. Or multiple! Maybe you’d like to switch around-” She rambled on with frisson, literally bouncing as she explained multiple offers of room types. You told her you’d be perfectly fine with what you’re given, and that you were grateful to have a place to stay at all. Her eyes welled up with tears as a huge smile spread up to her rosy cheeks. She embraced you in a tight hug, squeezing you in her arms and lifting you slightly off the ground.

“You are so welcome! Please let me know if there’s anything you need and,” she set you down and clasped your hands in hers, “I hope that we can become great friends!” She then opened the door to your room and waved goodbye. You watched her skip away, singing and dancing her way back to the lobby. You giggled as you watched the girl go back off to the others.

That girl is so sweet. A little bit of a theater kid but pop off. You thought with a smile as you went to shut the door to your room. A slender white hand caught the door, pushing it open gently so that you could see Angel Dust standing outside. You tilted your head at his sudden appearance.

“Heya toots, Charlie wanted me to drop ya off some of these, she got too excited and forgot to give em’.” He handed you fresh, folded up clothes. “Oh and since I’m here…I wanted to tell ya…” He looked almost pained as he tried to get the words out of his mouth. Not that the information itself seemed to be bad, but you could tell that trying to do or say anything nice was making him vastly uncomfortable. He grumbled to himself for a second before finally pulling his thoughts together. 

“Look, I’m not good at giving, uh, advice or whateva, but just so you know, Alastor isn’t someone you should mess with. Or trust. Or interact with really he kinda sucks in general-” He babbled, “And not in the way I do.” He smirked and stuck his tongue into his cheek while doing a blow job motion. When your only response was a blink, he dropped the suggestive expression and waved a hand. “Just be careful. Like I said, you're squishy.” He gave your cheek a light squeeze with a playful smile. “Still human and much more vulnerable than the rest of us. Keep that in mind.” He then turned and walked into a room not far from yours. You could assume it was his, but didn’t know if you should feel comfortable enough to go knocking if you were to need something. You felt something at the bottom of the clothes he handed you and flipped them over to reveal a sparkly pink pocket knife. You smiled at his discreet kindness.

The door clicked closed and you turned the golden lock above the handle. For extra safety, you secured the latch at the top of the door and gave it a proud nod at the prospect of your responsible act. This is hell after all. Tons of crazies

You finally turned to the room you’d be staying in for the foreseeable future and were met with a pleasant sight. It was nothing extraordinary, but it was a spacious and homey environment that paired perfectly with the rest of the ambiance of the hotel. A queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the room against the back wall, with two large windows on either side. Victorian lights shone comforting fluorescents against the rum wallpaper, complimenting the warm undertones and homey atmosphere. A desk was placed against the right wall with a cushioned chair and quaint lamp to illuminate the space under it. You strolled over to the large wooden wardrobe and ran your fingers along the marbled light and darkness of the burl. Grasping the knobs, you pulled it open and inspected the empty rack within. You frowned realizing that you had no clothes to change into other than the ones sent by Charlie, but maybe she’d lend you some more later.

“I wonder what kind of shops they have in hell.” You pondered to yourself. “If there’s not at least a JCPenny’s I might be screwed. Wait is there a hell version of target-” A rhythmic knock interrupted your introspective debate on Hell’s clothing options. You grumbled a bit at the thought of another interaction before you could have a proper shower.

I’m just gonna…not. You weren’t no celebrity, you had a right to R.N.R after quite literally going through hell. Whoever it was could wait til morning. Whatever “morning” was here.

So you walked straight into the bathroom and started up your shower, missing the static buzzing just outside your door.

You brushed through your wet hair with one of the variety of brushes provided in the bathroom cabinets. It was a convenience you thanked the heavens for in prospect of the major inconvenience of ending up in the feared land of eternal damnation. The coolness of the tile floor was a pleasant antidote to your aching feet, and you applied some antiseptic found in the medicine cabinet above the sink to your mild scrapes. You let out a pleased sigh as you walked out of the bathroom, steam escaping into the room as you exited. With a jump you flopped on the bed, relaxing into the plushness of the mattress.

“Fucking finallyyyyy.” You exclaimed, getting under the covers and turning off the side lamp. Allowing yourself to relax, you reveled in the feeling of fresh clothes and a comfy bed. You then stared up at the ceiling and realized you actually weren’t all that tired. Your body was stricken with soreness, but your mind was still buzzing, how could it not be? And you didn’t have a phone to scroll through social media until you felt like passing out, so you were forced to squirm in place, trying to find a nice enough position to fall asleep in.

I just wish I knew how I got here. I don’t think I died…If I did, wouldn’t I know? Wouldn’t it have taken more to kill me? And why can I barely remember anything about my life? I know I was hella miserable but how is that all I can remember?

It irked you that the faces of your loved ones were all a blur. The hobbies and passions you held so dear were nowhere to be found, no spark flickered in the depths of your soul when you combed through different ideas on what you could’ve done for fun in your life. You felt…hollow. Clutching the sheets around you tighter for comfort, you let the burning feeling of frustration in the back of your throat simmer, like bile creeping out of your stomach. Actually, it wasn’t just frustration, you were feeling the harsh pang of hunger. Your stomach growled and you felt it lurch once more. You hadn’t thought about getting any food, and you weren’t quite sure if it was a good time to ask for dinner. The idea of an adventure to scavenge for some late-night nutrition popped into your mind, but that was an awful idea.

Is it even okay to be wandering around after hours? Especially since I’m new, they could think I’m up to no good. But then again who was up to good in hell? 

  Fuck it I’m lookin’ for some bread.  

 You flipped off the covers and padded over to your bedroom door, then out of it and into the quiet hallway. The lights were all still on, and there was a dark red glow of Hell’s twilight from the windows. You weren’t sure where the kitchen was, but you figured that it shouldn’t be too far off from the lobby. After a few turns you came across the place you were looking for. It was a large kitchenl, and had a huge fridge and pantry. You walked over to the pantry and searched around for something to satisfy your hunger.

“What’s this? Our new resident is digging around like a voracious little pest!” You jumped out of your skin and smacked your head on one of the shelves to look back and see Alastor standing there, gazing at you with a mocking condensation. His scrutinous gaze twinkled with amusement as he watched you clutch where you hit your head, making no attempt to move and help you out. You chewed on your tongue nervously before replying.

“Oh, hiya Alastor. I was just hungry, so um, I came to get a snack?” It sounded more like a question than a statement. “That’s okay, right?” You questioned. The last thing you wanted to do was to be breaking the rules of the hotel and angering what were probably some of the most powerful demons in hell. He barked out a laugh and shook his head.

“Oh darling, nobody is going to keep you from a late night rendezvous in the pantry. I only meant to see what all of this scuffling was about.” He leaned down, inspecting the full baguette that you had grabbed from a basket full of bread. An eyebrow quirked upwards. “Do you plan on eating ALL of that, (Y/n)?” He asked, a hint of actual curiosity in his voice under the layers of lofty playfulness.

“Do YOU plan on being all up in my business all the time?” You quipped. You saw his lids narrow and decided to backtrack. “I mean, yeah probably. If I don’t I can…put it back.” You look down at your hands, which have now touched all over the piece of bread. Alastor gave you a judging look, before going back to a neutral smile. 

“How delightfully unhygienic! Oh well, I won’t be the one eating your second-hand loaf.” He muses, twirling a finger to point at your baguette. “Why don’t I escort you back to your room?” His voice distorts slightly in the middle of his sentence, his smile growing sinister in contrast to his innocent words. One part of you wants to say “hell no”, but his creepy smile makes you feel like you shouldn’t test his patience when you’re both alone and can’t run behind someone like Charlie. You give a hesitant nod and both begin walking back to your room. With a hungry bite, you tear a chunk off the tip of the baguette, crunching through the outer layer and chewing to the soft insides. Alastor didn’t spare you a glance as he began speaking once more.

“I stopped by your room earlier.” You paused eating for a split second before going back to chewing. “How come I was left outside with no response? For someone so new, you have quite a lot of nerve, might I say.” You eye him, trying to gauge how upset he is over the simple fact of not answering the door. He didn’t seem too bothered but the slight edge in his voice had your mind working overtime to try and decipher his confusing commentary.

“I took a shower earlier, I could’ve been in there when you stopped by.” You say simply. His only response is a neutral hum and stops walking abruptly. You stumble slightly and stop as well, noticing you’ve arrived at your designated room. “Well, goodnight Alastor.” You say and go to walk in but he places a hand on your shoulder before you can walk in. You have an incredibly bad feeling about whatever’s about to happen next. It was an instinctual urge, a tugging on your soul that you had to get away from danger.

“What’s the rush? I can’t help but notice you’re a tad skittish when talking to me. There’s no reason to be in such a tizzy.” He chuckles and leans down, letting your shoulder go. “Though, it is understandable. A human in hell? How INCREDIBLY unfortunate.” He circles around you, theatrically moving his hands as he continues talking. “Surrounded by demons, no wonder you’re so weary!” He grew his antlers for emphasis on certain words. “Of course, I’m one of those demons,” He laughs, “But I’m different my dear. My mother did raise a gentleman.” He put a hand over his heart, shutting his eyes to reminisce. “Therefore, my dear, for a small price-”

‘ Click’

While he was ranting, you tiptoed inside your room and shut the door. Swiftly securing the locks, you sighed and hoped the demon would just go away on his own. Whatever he was gonna offer you would be at a price, most likely a big one. You had absolutely nothing to offer him. You took another bite of your bread and strolled back to your bed. 

Alastor’s head tilted with a loud crack when he looked up at the shut door in front of him. He had gotten carried away in trying to sell his point to the human and they had slipped into their room before he could get to what he really wanted.

 A deal.

He deduced that you knew that’s what he wanted and saw yourself out before he could convince you into a soul binding trap.

How annoyingly smart.

It wasn’t that impressive, of course, but this was a human he was dealing with. Humans were small, weak, feeble-minded little playthings, he should know, he used to be one, but rather than being like the rest of the useless lot he coexisted with, he was better

He was at the top of the food chain. 

He was a hunter.

He snapped his neck back into place and continued to stare at the door. The locks on the inside could do nothing to stop his entry, should he wish to go in, but he felt it might be fun to allow you to think you had protection from what wrath he could bring upon you. He twirled his microphone cane and began the stretch back to his own room. Despite not getting to implant the idea of a deal in your head, he was still filled with anticipation of having such a hopeless thing in a realm of unforgiving cruelty. An excited rhythm thrummed in his chest as he thought about how this world would break you as it did many others. 

He hoped he could contribute to your demise.

Chapter Text

Your dreams that night were filled with darkness, a vast void of nothingness on all sides, infinitely expanding through its existing plane. The emptiness felt cold, your body releasing tremors to combat the temperature. Your arms and legs kicked in slow motion as you tried to find stability in the ocean of ink. It reminded you of your fall, except this time rather than a quick rush of unexpected, thick air and a racing heart preparing you to meet solid ground, you flailed helplessly with no hope for a sustainable end.

You awoke with a shiver, rubbing your bleary eyes and feeling around for covers that you had kicked almost completely off the bed while you were unconscious. You let out a whine at being awake and realizing you are, in fact, still in hell. Nonetheless, you rolled out of bed, nimbly landed on your feet, and went to the bathroom to get ready for whatever the day might bring.

Once you looked less like a zombie, you sluggishly trekked out the door and into the hall of the hotel. Light chatter echoed from the kitchen, and when you got closer you took in the scent of coffee and breakfast meat. Charlie walked out of the room, the shorter girl with an X on her face by her side. She glanced up and saw you, her face lighting up as she skipped over to you, tugging the other girl along.

“Good morning (Y/N)! I hope you slept well! I was just about to come get you for breakfast!” She said pointing a thumb back to where the clamber of utensils could be heard. “ALSO, say hi to Vaggie! My girlfriend!” She pushed Vaggie forward with a giddy smile while Vaggie gave a small wave. “Vaggie, this is (Y/n), one of our new residents! They’re not so much a resident as much as a stranded human we took in but we are glad to have them here either way!” She professed with a confident punch in the air.

“We could always use more help,” Vaggie said, smiling at her girlfriend. “Breakfast is in the kitchen. If you want to grab some stuff, take as much as you want.” She patted you on the shoulder, and her and Charlie went back to the dining room. 

The delicious smell of fresh breakfast got stronger as you walked into the lively environment. Husk had one hand with a plate full of grits, eggs, and bacon, and in the other a clear bottle full of orange juice that he periodically took a swig from. Angel Dust leaned over him, flirting and trying to take his drink from him. Niffty ran across the counters, grabbing different items of her choosing. Once she was done, she scurried to the edge of the countertop where Alastor was standing, sipping a cup of coffee. He gently picked her up, and set her on the ground, allowing her to run off to the dining room after squeaking out a ‘thank you sir!’ You grabbed a plate and started walking around to make your own plate of food when Angel Dust looked up and waved.

“Mornin’ babes.” He said before going back to messing with Husk, who grimaced and walked off. Angel Dust let the cat go and adjusted his chest fluff, using his phone as a mirror to check his appearance.

“Did you already eat, Angel?” You questioned since the spider lacked a plate.

“Ugh, no. I’m tryna keep a clear gut for later. Val said we’ve got a looooot of shooting to do.” He said, rolling his eyes. You gave a confused look and he gave a ‘tch’. “Ima porn star remember? You know, can’t have anything in my stomach so I can take it up the-” A high-frequency screech made you both cover your ears and look over at the source of the noise. Alastor had his eyes shut with contempt and sipped his coffee loudly.

“Language at the breakfast table~” Alastor warned. Angel Dust fumed silently and stormed off, grumbling about how they weren’t even at the breakfast table. You snagged a cup, poured your breakfast drink of choice, and headed off to where Angel had gone. You followed behind him from a distance but stopped when you saw him slam the front door of the hotel. You frowned as he left, but quickly turned on your heel and turned to go join everyone else in the dining room. When you entered it, only Charlie and Vaggie sat at the table. They wore serious expressions, talking about an “Extermination”. When you got closer they changed their attitudes and welcomed you over. Charlie didn’t do a good job of masking her sadness, but she did her best to keep up a small smile while you ate, asking you questions about your vaguely remembered past.

When you were close to finishing your food, Alastor walked in, smiling as big as ever. “Aha! Our new resident and Charlie! Just the people I needed to see!” In the blink of an eye, he was encompassed in shadows, before appearing right next to you and Charlie. “I think it’s time we talk about what their role can be in this hotel. Can’t just have them living here rent-free.” He chirped. 

“Well Alastor I don’t mind them not-” He cut her off with a finger over her mouth.

“Ah ah ah dear, we only have so much time before the next Extermination. We want as many hands on deck as we can sneeze! We don’t need a leech mooching off our supplies without contributing anything to your cause.” He backed away and rested his hands on his cane.

“I really don’t have a problem working. I don’t have anything better to do.” You said to Charlie. She gave a small smile and nodded at you.

“Well, what do you want to help with? Niffty’s got the cleaning job covered, Alastor is already a host…maybe you could work the front desk?” Charlie suggested.

Vaggie looks at the blonde. “Babe, we don’t have a front desk.”

“WELP I’M OUT OF IDEAS. And Extermination is so much closer than last year and I can’t even think of something that a new person could work on because I don’t even know what to work on to rehabilitate the people in our hotel and-” Vaggie grabbed Charlie’s hand as the girl stared off into space mumbling ideas of what you could do to help out.

Alastor, ever the hero, cleared his throat with a slightly annoyed look. “Charlie, I think our lovely little guest would make quite the room attendant.” With the flick of a hand, your clothes changed. You sported a red long sleeve shirt with gold buttons, and black slacks. You even had a little name tag. He had misspelled your name though.

“Is the uniform really necessary? This shirt is kind of uncomfortable.” You grumbled, tugging at the sleeves. “It’s like sandpaper.” 

“Well we can’t have you working in your pajamas now can we?” Alastor waved his hand again, and your shoes were changed into black loafers. You deadpanned at Charlie. She quickly stood up.

“Um, actually, I was planning on giving you some clothes! Nobody else really has one and I don’t want them to be uncomfortable.” She says with an apologetic smile at Alastor. He hums and changes your clothes back. 

“Very well. I assume you know what a room attendant does?” Alastor asked. You opened your mouth, then closed it, before nodding slowly. Then you switched to shaking your head. Alastor gave a ‘that’s what I thought’ look. “As in the title, you will attend rooms, and most importantly, our residents. We don’t have many of those currently, so I think you should also attend the staff. If there’s something they require for their rooms, or relating to their comfort, you will be summoned and expected to help to the best of your ability. For example, if Angel Dust needs more towels, you will get them from Niffty. If Niffty needs a new lightbulb for a lamp in her room, you get her one. Do you follow?” After you nod, Alastor takes his leave, and goes off to god knows where.

“Glad he was able to figure that out.” Charlie says with a sigh of relief. “Oh with all these things to think about, another thing was REALLY starting to pile on!” Charlie says with a crazed smile. She looks at your worried face and schools her expression, waving it off. “Sorry (Y/n), I know you haven’t been through an Extermination yet, but it’s really scary. And trying to find a way to save my people is so tough.” She looks down. Her big, red eyes begin to sparkle and tears gather, threatening to spill. Vaggie rubs her back and changes the subject.

“Hey you said you wanted to give them some of your old clothes to borrow right? Why don’t we show them what you have?” Vaggie suggests. Charlie perks up and wipes her face.

“Y-you’re right, let’s focus on that! Not the impending doom of my people!” With a smile she gets up and grabs your hand, dragging you off to her room. She led you to the second floor and through big double doors to her and Vaggie’s suite. It was a bit bigger and fancier than your room, with a color scheme altered to include a dark purple. Fairy lights lined the bed curtains, something you bet Charlie added. “I have a few things laid out for you, so take your pick!” Walking over to her bed there were a few outfits spread out on the comforter. You didn’t even have to try on her clothes to know that they wouldn’t fit, everything seemed specifically tailored to her measurements.

“Hey Charlie…I don’t think these are gonna fit me.” You said awkwardly. She gave a disappointed look.

“Ah, sorry I should have figured, they're all meant to fit me haha. I could try to get you your own tailor, though I know it’s not for everybody.” She offered.

“Wouldn’t that be really expensive?”

“Money’s not something I’m concerned about when it comes to helping out my friends, so never worry about it!” She rubbed her arm. “Plus, being the princess of hell means I get quite a bit of money.” She laughs awkwardly.

“Wait, what?”

“I-(Y/n) did you not know? Lucifer’s my dad.”

“NO, NOBODY TOLD ME!”

She laughed, finding your lack of awareness very amusing. After laughing for a minute, she took a few deep breaths to speak normally, holding her sides. “Aha…oh my. Well, do you want that tailor? Or would you prefer to just go shopping? I think it might be more fun to go and browse.” You considered the options for a moment, but ultimately decided to go out shopping. She clapped her hands together and whipped out a shiny gold debit card, handing it to you. “Buy whatever you like with this! I would send Angel with you but he has work today…so next best thing!” She got up and gestured for you to follow her. You both walked back down the stairs and over to the bar, where Husk resided. Since it was early, he seemed pretty sober, only sitting bored with an elbow on the bar and head in his hand. “Husk will take you shopping!”

Husk’s yellow shifted over to you and he squinted. “What? I ain’t no babysitter.” He grumbled and felt around under the bar to grab another bottle of booze. Charlie looked at Husk, giving him her best, biggest puppy dog eyes. Husk raised one of his red eyebrows and rolled his eyes. “Eh fine…let’s just be quick.” He said, muttering under his breath and taking the debit card. “Come on kid, let's get this shit over with.” He stalked off to leave the hotel. You were about to rush after him when Charlie grabbed you by the shoulders and looked you in the eyes, her usually cheerful expression replaced with a serious one.

“(Y/n), I need you to be VERY careful. Husk is strong, he can protect you, but you’re still a human. There’s no telling what could happen if you both were to get attacked and you got injured. Demons are much more resilient, and I just want you to be quick so you don’t get hurt.” She gave a worried smile. “Actually, I’ve got just the thing!” She raised her hand and it glowed with a red light before a headband with two small red horns. She grinned and placed it ceremoniously atop your head, adjusting your hair to help hide the band. “There! Completely inconspicuous!” She exclaimed before pushing towards the exit. When you walked out the stained glass doors, you saw Husk standing idly outside waiting for you. He looked at you, then at your fake horns, then back at you.

“Kid…those are so fake.” He laughed lowly at your attempt to blend in. “There are some shops not too far away we can look at, stick by me and don’t breeze off.” He then began to lead you into the bustling streets of Pentagram City.

You couldn’t tell if Husk would genuinely have rathered to walk across hot coals then be out with you, or if that’s just how he always looked. He was tall, but slouched almost constantly. His long, red eyebrows were furrowed and his attitude only got worse when he ran out of alcohol in his flask. He did seem to be keeping an eye out though, making sure no demons were looking too closely at you. You tried to keep your head down just in case though. 

After a few minutes of walking in tense silence he glanced at you. “So, uh, how’s being in hell and all? Used to it yet?” He asks. You purse your lips.

“It’s only been a day.” 

“Ah, right.” He said and went back to looking around. 

Why does having a one on one conversation with anyone besides Charlie have to be so awkward!   You thought, idly chewing on the inside of your mouth. You tried to think of a conversation topic as he led you into a flashy boutique, the displays lined with trending clothes.

“How long have you been working for Charlie?” You ask about surveying the different clothing racks. The front desk lady is a lanky skeleton with heavy makeup and skimpy clothing. She’s busy doing her nails and doesn’t bother to glance up at you and your companion.

“Not long, Alastor just yanked me out of a game and I got forced into it.” He glared off into space at the thought of it. “Honestly it’s not that bad, but I’d much rather be doing my own thing, you know?” 

You nod and pick out a pair of cute pants in your size. You walk over to another rack containing shirts with Husk in tow. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna be in hell but somehow I got here and can’t do much about it.” 

Husk’s grumpy expression morphs to express sympathy. “Do ya miss Earth?”

“Who wouldn’t?” You joke, picking up a shirt to go with your pants. “I don’t actually remember a ton about my life, so thankfully there’s not a ton of home sickness, I just feel…out of place?”

He hums in acknowledgment and you both continue walking around and putting together a few simple outfits to wear around the hotel. Husk doesn’t offer a ton of fashion advice. His responses on how things look ranged from “Fine” to just a thumbs up. You're pretty sure he thought he was genuinely helping, so you didn’t say anything about his vague input. After checking out he began to lead you straight back to the hotel. There was a bar he had stopped to glance at, but shook his head, insisting on getting back to the hotel as soon as possible.

“I’m surprised we haven’t attracted much attention, maybe because it’s early and there aren’t a lot of people on the street?” You murmured. Husk shrugged and took some of the shopping bags from you. “Oh thanks.”

He nodded and grabbed by the back of your shirt, yanking you back before you were hit by a zooming car that had run off the road. It crashed into the boutique that you were both previously in and you watched with an open mouth as demons came out of the woodworks, smashing the few sustained windows and looting the store. “Bro what…” You said in disbelief, but Husk seemed pretty unfazed.

“Watch your step, you almost got hit.”

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t see the random ass car that was heading straight for the store we were just in.”

“Hey kid don’t sass me I just saved your damn life.” He puts his hands on his hips, akin to a dad scolding a child. The resemblance makes you laugh.

“Husk, do you have kids?”

“What? No, what made you think that?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?”

“...I’m not even gonna answer that question.”

“So I assume yes?”

“(Y/n).”

You and Husk (excluding you asking if he considered himself to be a dilf) had a pretty good conversation on the way back to the hotel. You did most of the talking, but Husk was a pretty good listener. Maybe it’s because he’s a bartender, people always talk to them about their issues. He helped you carry your bags to your room and set them on your bed. You turned to him and thanked him for all his help, saying you appreciated it.

“Eh, don't mention it. It’s better than going out by yourself. Course if you do, I won’t stop you, but you’ll get eaten or at least mugged. A better disguise would do you some good.” He chuckled and flicked the plastic horns. “If you need a drink or something you know where to find me, I’m sure you’ll need one once Alastor puts you to work.”

“Everyone’s always talking about him so ominously.”

“That’s because he’s a creep who makes others do his dirty work. Or just work in general, like I said he makes me work here.” He grimaced.

“Couldn’t you just…not?” Your simplistic question made Husk roll his eyes.

“The guy owns my soul. Owns Niffty’s too, so we have to do his bidding. A word from personal experience, never make a deal with him, it won’t work out in your favor. Especially with you having a human soul, you’d be at an even bigger disadvantage than the rest of us.” You thought back to how Angel Dust had warned you about the demon. When he first brought you to the hotel, he had mentioned “The Radio Demon” in his general explanation of hell and then gave you a proper warning once you had begun settling into your room. It was odd that Charlie would let such a dangerous man help run a hotel trying to make sinners good enough for heaven, but maybe his power was so great that it canceled out his spooky habits.

“I was told something similar yesterday, so I’ll keep it in mind.” With that, he took his leave and walked out the door. You put up your clothes and pick out an outfit for the next day, or at least what you assumed would be your first day on the job. You then grimace at the thought of what grueling tasks you might have to do to please the demons of this hotel, but then again, maybe they'll be more lenient than the boss you had at your old job! You can only hope.

Chapter Text

“You want me…to drug check him?” You questioned, face twisted with disbelief. A long, drawn-out sip reverberates in the light red coffee mug, echoing out an obnoxious slurping noise. After much too long, Alastor’s lips detached from the edge of the cup, but his gaze didn’t rise from the “Hell’s Daily!” newspaper.

“Precisely.” He puts it simply. Technically speaking, it wasn’t that weird of a request. Drugs should rightfully be prohibited in a hotel meant for recovery, but why are YOU the one checking for them? The notion gave you a bigger pause than you would’ve thought. You should agree and get on with the job you’re being assigned as room attendant but-

“I’m, like, 90% sure this was not in my job description.” You had woken up 30 minutes ago to Niffty scrambling into your bed, telling you it was time to get to work, and that you were late. It scared you shitless because for a few minutes, you thought you were back on earth and late to your ACTUAL job, but upon realizing your mistake you were about to go back to bed until Niffty mentioned that Alastor wouldn’t be happy if you missed out on work. You begrudgingly stumbled out of bed, skipped breakfast, and went to the study you didn’t even know was there. Alastor lounged by the fireplace without a care in the world, juxtaposed to your messy and hurried demeanor. After chastising you for your tardiness, he casually told you your first assignment was to check Angel Dust’s room for any “Angel Dust”. It befuddled you, because when did being a room attendant involve being a narc? You never could’ve imagined you’d be on this side of the fence after all those times you watched classmates get searched for drugs back in high school. Crazy that you could remember that but not anything meaningful about your high school experience that made you who you are today. 

Amnesia is wack.

“It also feels like a big evasion of privacy, shouldn’t this rehabilitation program be based on trust and respect for the people participating.”

“That’s almost exactly what Charlie said! You see, sometimes she is a little too trusting, and needs a push in the right direction. As the host of this hotel I must guide our program in the direction of success.” The way he puts it sounds caring enough, but after all the warnings you’ve been given, you can’t help but feel like it’s coming from a place of superiority. You blinked at him and sighed. You opened your mouth to protest but he shot you a menacing glare with his sickeningly wide smile. “You know, you’d do well to learn when to shut that mouth of yours. It’s a far greater social fault to talk too much than too little.”

“You know what-”

“You’re proving my point dear.”

Your mouth morphs into a deep frown. Rising frustration stirred in your chest from his mocking. Alastor finishes his coffee and with a flick of the wrist, his newspaper is enveloped in shadows and disappears. He snaps near your face, eyes closed constantly. His arms then tuck behind him as he turns towards the doorway.

“Chop chop, you’re wasting daylight! Best to inspect his room before he gets back from wherever our Angel flew off to last night.” He gives a jovial laugh of his own joke before striding out the door. Unsaid words of venom were left on the tip of your tongue, leaving behind the bitter taste of wounded pride. It was unfortunate that the most annoying of the demons inhabiting this hotel was also one of the most powerful, making any retaliation a gamble with your safety. After a beat, you took a calming breath, clenched your teeth, and headed in the direction of Angel’s room.

Alastor had been “kind” enough to grant you one of the Hazbin hotel master keys for your invasive objective, just in case Angel had locked the door to his room. Which handily, he hadn’t. So when you waltzed into the bedroom in hopes of an easy in and out operation, you didn’t expect to be met with a guard dog…of sorts.

A guard…pig?

Your eyes scanned the small swine at your feet as it oinked curiously. It possessed tiny, black horns atop its head and a curly, pointed tail. You couldn’t help but gasp and kneel down to let it sniff your hand.

“Hello, little guy…wanna show me where your daddy’s drugs are?” You said in a baby voice, petting the pig. He only oinked and trotted off to Angel’s bed to curl up and nap. You found your lack of animal communication for the sake of your drug search disappointing, but couldn’t help smiling at the spider’s companion. You glanced over the web-detailed bed for anything drug related, before moving to the side table. You found some…less than appropriate toys and walked away slightly unnerved. Other things of the same variety were in other drawers, intensifying your guilt over invading Angel Dust’s privacy. He was the first person you’d met in hell, and the closest thing you had to a friend, and you knew he wouldn’t be happy if he caught you snooping. All you could do was push the nagging feeling of guilt to the side as you continued to look around. Eventually, your eyes were drawn to a vanity. On top of the cluttered surface lay a few bags titled “Angel Dust”.

“Ooooooh Alastor wasn’t joking when he said to look for this stuff.” You collected the bags and paused.

Shit…what now? He never told me what to do with this if and when I found it.

Of course, your bad luck never failed you, because as soon as you turned to leave, a hungover Angel Dust was staggering through the door. He clutched his head and slurred his speech slightly, but seemed to snap out of it as soon as he registered you standing in his room.

“(Y/n)?! What the fuck are you doin’ in my room?!” He looked at the pig. “Nugs! What happened to all that training? Sick em!” He pointed at you and the pig just waddled over to you and plopped down in front of your feet, staring up at you. “Ugh god damn it- just get the hell out! And gimme my drugs back!” You squeaked as you dodged the flurry of hands as he clumsily tried to take back the baggies.

“SAY NO TO DRUGS!” You yelled and ran out of his room. Angel let out a frustrated growl as he ran after you. Despite his impaired state, his height made it impossible for your tiny human legs to help you escape. You were yanked by the back of your shirt only halfway down the hall and he angrily grabbed the bags from you.

“They’re MINE I bought em’! And my answer to drugs is none of ya business bitch!”

“I didn’t wanna look, but you’ve been telling Charlie that you’re clean!”

“Yeah, so I can crash here rent-free to buy shit like this! Quit actin’ like you know shit about this place, or like ya actually care, you’ve been here two days ya nosy human freak!” He pockets the drugs in his chest fluff and flips you off, trying to head back to his room.

“Hey wait a minute!” You block the hallway.  “Alastor is the one who asked me to search, so if you keep them I’m sure he’ll find out that you have those one way or another, and then we’re both screwed.” You bargained. Angel’s mouth opened and he looked to the side, the idea brewing in his head. “Come on, Charlie talks all the time about how you’re doing good, I’m sure there’s at least a part of you that’s hoping for redemption.” You give a small, hopeful smile. Angel Dust looks down at you, a scowl still on his face but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes.

“Fuckin’ FINE I’ll flush it and you keep your trap shut, huh? How bout that?” He grumbles. “Only reason I’m fuckin’ listenin’ is cus I don’t wanna risk gettin’ kicked out…” He mumbles something about “turf wars'' under his breath and “being on thin ice”. He starts storming off back to his room and you follow him  to make sure he actually gets rid of the dust. Thankfully, you watch him begrudgingly toss the sacks in the toilet and flush. “There ya go, now get the fuck out of my room.” You’re about to leave when the toilet lets out a choked, watery stutter. Your eyes widen and you both peak over the porcelain lid at the bags that were clogging the narrow tube. “Yeah in hindsight I don’t know why I threw all of them in there at once. My bad toots.” You both stood silently, watching the water fill to the brim and spill over. You grimace.

“I’ll get Niffty.”

The small demoness stood with her hands on her hips, huffing with disbelief. “You know I clean up a lot of messes, but this kind of mess is completely avoidable!” Niffty grabs a plunger almost as big as her, and shoves it into the bowl, beginning the war against the clog. You and Angel Dust stood back in his room, letting her do her work. Angel Dust looked at you with a glare.

“Are ya happy? Completing your shitty little task and all?” He asked with crossed arms. It’s hard to tell if it's a rhetorical question out of spite over his lost drugs or an actual question. You shrug and answer anyway.

“Being in hell all of a sudden, then being given a job just as quickly is a little rattling, so it’s nice to do something…more or less right?” Your eyes flicker to the flooding bathroom. Angel Dust also surveys the scene with a less than pleased look, water flooding through the bathroom door and into his bedroom, the liquid seeping into the carpeted floor.

“You betta pay for this. Like, seriously, that shit cost me hella dough.” He extended a hand, gesturing for cash. You stared dumbfounded, because how did he expect you to have money?!

“Um let me just-” You dug in one of your pockets. Your fingers grasped a small piece of metal. Upon pulling it out, you gazed upon a singular quarter. You looked at the coin, and then at Angel Dust’s hand, before slowly placing it in the palm of his hand and shutting his fingers around it with a gentle ‘pat pat’ for good measure. You gave a thumbs up.

“(Y/n) I’m gonna-”

“Ah there you are my lovely little attendant, I assume your investigation went well?” You and Angel jump and turn to see Alastor standing behind you both. You glance at each other and offer uncertain nods. Alastor hums with a knowing smile and zeros in on you, bending down to your level. “Dear, did you find any of that silly powder we talked about?” You didn’t even try to have a poker face as you shook your head, your face exposing your lie like a child that knows they’re about to get in trouble. Any hope of rescue from Angel went out the window as soon as you looked over and saw the demon had made his escape. “Ah, now (Y/n),” Your stomach dropped as a chill filled the air. Static buzzed, subtly, but slowly growing with intensity. It was like standing in the eye of a hurricane, a growl of chaos forming around you, waiting to mull over and sweep you into its storm. With nothing more than his presence, your body was overtaken by an unadulterated, gut-churning fear. “What made that pea-sized brain of yours think it was a good idea to a͏̛͕̫̟̥͡t̡̤͌͐̏̽͑͡ţ̛͎̣̹̩̤̋̈̑͊̚ē̼̜̓̃̓̐̀͋̾͟͢m̸̗͔͒͡͡p̶̡̫̘͓̯̎͒̄̎̾͜t̨̨̥̑́̍́́͂̚͟͢ ̰̲̱̏̀͐̈́̆t̙̔̽̉͊͏o͜͏͚̙̇̊̅͋ ̴͏̥͕̞̒́̊ͅl̴͉̫̀̐̐i̢͔̋̌̐̆͠͞ẻ̖̹̿̌̌̈͐ ̺̪̫̲͋̄̓t̷̖̪̞͐͑͆͆͢o̴̰̟̳̱͛̑̅͞ ̞͕̖͎̩͈̋́̑m̠̹̞͗̎̅́̀͝e̢̞͆͒͊̉ͅ?̫͓̊̈́͒͂͟ͅ”͓̔̓̒̄͟ 

His eyes flashed and morphed into radio dials, the static around you only growing. Shadows crept around his feet, lapping at your feet, and mythical, glowing red symbols appeared around him. He let out a laugh. “This is all quite the funny joke, darling. I mean, a real knee slapper.” A distorted laugh track played from his staff, which he twirled and swiftly swept your legs with. You landed hard on your rear, but the pain was dulled from adrenaline. You watched as the demon’s neck cracked unnaturally, a pointy-toothed shadow creeping along the wall towards you. His pupils blazed red like hot iron as his smile extended farther than its usual extended smirk. “You’d think such a weak, insignificant soul such as yourself would know your place when talking to me, but I guess I overestimated you! Let me make it,”

 A black tentacle shot out, “Crystal,” 

You slowly started being dragged closer to him, “Clear.” His voice had lost its radio filter.

You watched in horror as he towered over you, the static growl encasing you. This was it. He was going to rip you apart and you were going to die a gruesome death.

“Lie to me again, human, and I will show you a fate much worse than the hell you have already stumbled into.” After a few seconds of leering over you, everything was back to normal. An intense tremor racked across your body as you lay on the floor. Your mind was telling you to get up and run but you were frozen. Alastor let out a satisfied sigh, as if he had finished a filling meal. He flashed his yellow teeth with a predatory gleam. “That was a fun chat, wouldn’t you say?” He strode over and used magic to put you on your feet. He briefly dusted off your shoulders and stepped back. “There we are, right as rain.” With that, he turned on his heel and strutted out of the room.

After Alastor’s intimidation session with you, Niffty had been nice enough to offer you some comfort.

 “He’s like that with everyone.” She insisted. As if that made you feel any less terrified.

Now here you lay, on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Your mind is still reeling, and your body still has a slight tremble.  Even though you weren’t so scared, the event left an aftershock. Despite being behind the safety of your double locked door (maximum security, couldn’t be better), you couldn’t force your limbs to relax, to recognize that there was no more danger. Maybe that’s because the danger hadn’t left?

‘Knock knock knock’

You froze, you knew who it was. The thought of ignoring it like you did the other day crossed your mind, but you had a feeling he’d get you to open that door one way or another. With a hesitant step, you went to the door and opened it. There stood Alastor grinning down at you, his menacing aura from earlier gone, nothing but an upbeat ambiance radiating from him.

“There you are, swell to see you’ve rested up after a long 30 minutes of work!” His staff played a laugh track, this time undistorted. A good sign he’s not about to terrorize you again. “I do hope our earlier conversation didn’t frighten you too much?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Oh what a silly fib, of course I do!” He laughed in your face. You deadpanned, the heart aching fear you felt being replaced with neat annoyance.

“Do you need something, Alastor?” Your exasperation did not seem to deter his attitude. He adjusted his monocle.

“Dinner is ready, Charlie was beginning to fear you’d miss it so she sent me to fetch you.” With that he gestured for you to follow him, and strolled along at a leisurely pace. “Today I’ve prepared Crawfish Etouffee! One of the many lovely recipes my mother made for me when I was young.”

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“There’s much you don’t know about me.” He quipped. “However, the same can’t be said for you.” He smirked. “You’re impossibly easy to read, that’s really not a good trait to have in a place like this. Really, it’s something you should work on.” He checked his nails, his tone that of a parent scolding a petulant child. “Though, it's not too late for a little deal, my dear. Just a small one to give you a bit of cushion, in case of any…mishaps.” At the proposition, you narrowed your eyes.

“I don’t get why you’re so adamant about me making a deal with you. What do you care about my safety?” You ask, though you know whatever comes out of his mouth next is more than likely a lie. He’ll say sickeningly sweet words as a manipulation tactic to make you sell your soul to him. He turns his head to you and stops walking, gaze pinning you to your spot.

“I just want to make sure my new employee is safe and sound, that’s all, no need to get defensive darling.” He appeared behind you, peering over your shoulder. “Plus, you are a funny little thing~” He gave your head a soft pat before shadowing back in front of you, continuing his stride towards the dining room. “Food for thought, my dear.” He mused, the distance between the two of you widening. You stood there for a moment, mulling it over.

It’s a stupid idea…he’s trying to trick me, but…maybe a small deal couldn’t hurt.

All the warnings you’d been given from the others, they couldn’t have been for nothing. Then you consider the situation you’re in. Hell is scary and rough, and nobody (except maybe Charlie that sweetie pie) cared if you lived or died. A deal, however… it would force someone to give a damn about you, to have your back when you were in a bad spot due to obligation. So it was possible that you’d have to make some sacrifices to survive in this place, and therefore, a little deal with a bloodthirsty demon wouldn’t be that bad. 

Chapter Text

After a few days of living in hell, sleep became easier. Despite demons not needing that much sleep, the others were surprisingly quiet at night, usually spending time in their rooms or doing silent activities. They also took the nighttime to rest in their own way, which helped you stay with your natural sleep cycle. On the other hand, the sleep itself was all filled with darkness. A void that you floated around in, your lucid mind unable to free you until your body forced you out of the abyss and into the waking world. Perhaps hell was a place without dreams? An added punishment to the eternal suffering and anguish its patrons were subjected to? Either way, it wasn’t like it was awful. Just…unusual.

Adding to the pattern of your strange subconscious adventures, your “dream” finally took an unexpected turn. The vast nothingness was all the same, you weren’t expecting anything besides hanging out in your mind, but you saw something. A flicker of light right in front of you. You brought your hands up to cup around the spark, making it form closer to an unstable orb of energy. But just as you were about to touch it, it began to fade. You strained, concentrating on whatever it was that had brought the mass in front of you, but it continued to fade until you were once again alone in darkness.

Then you were awake.

You rubbed your bleary eyes, sitting up and staring off into space. A nagging feeling that something important had happened resided in your chest as if you had come across something significant. 

“I’ll think about that at a different time.” You mumbled to yourself, getting up to get ready for the day. You had woken before your alarm, which was set to 8 am, a reasonable waking hour for a weekday. You got dressed and freshened up, before heading down the hall for breakfast. The pleasant smell of pancakes wafted through the air as you walked past the kitchen. You peeked your head in to see Charlie singing, swaying her hips as she flipped fluffy flapjacks onto a plate. She turned around as you stepped further into the kitchen, a bright smile spreading to her rosy cheeks.

“Hi! Good morning (Y/n)! Lookie here, I made pancakes!” She sang, showing off the golden pile of deliciousness. She wore her usual red suit, but over it had a pink apron reading “One Helluva Cook!” with a bunch of sparkles and crown detailing.

“Nice apron.” You said with a smile. She gushed and twirled around, balancing the stack of pancakes perfectly.

“Thank you!” She giggled. “Hey wanna help me set the table? I have some more pancakes over there if you wanna help me carry those to the dining room.” You nodded and grabbed the tall stack, praying you didn’t drop it. “I might have overdone it but I just wanted everybody to have a good start to the day!” Her eyes sparkled with admirable conviction.

You both carefully brought the food into the dining room, before placing plates and utensils down for everybody. Vaggie brought in a picture of orange juice and a pot of coffee, nodding a ‘good morning’ to you. After the table was set, Charlie whipped out a comically large cow bell and began waving it around. 

“BREAKFAST IS READY.” She mused gleefully. Niffty scurried in first, taking a seat and grabbing some pancakes for herself. Husk groggily dragged himself into the room, chugging alcohol as usual, Angel Dust tailing him, and Alastor…appeared at some point.

“Ya don’t have to ring a goddamn bell, that shit makes my head pound.” Husk grumbles, rubbing his face.

“Maybe that’s from your constant drinking?” Vaggie retorted. Husk flips her off, before letting his head slam into the table. You think about saying something but everyone continues with their conversations, so you start fixing your plate of pancakes. As people started eating, you remembered a suggestion that you had thought of bringing up to the group concerning your position in the hotel.

“Oh hey before I forget,” you piped up, “does anybody need anything? Since I’m the room attendant and all, I just wanted to see if there are any requests I need to fulfill.” You had mostly just been assisting Charlie for the past week, helping her organize redemption activity ideas and doing light laundry.

“I need more alcohol.”

“There’s a lot of things I need help with baby~”

“There’s quite a few grueling tasks I can think of dear.”

Everyone’s suggestions were either extremely big asks or just…inappropriate. As great as having a job in hell was, you weren’t sure if you wanted to give yourself scoliosis by bending backward that far for these people. An anxious look at Charlie made her interrupt.

“Um, guys, I know we’re all excited about having extra help, and these are all…INTERESTING requests, but maybe we could start a little smaller? And possibly a teensy bit more  morally sound?” There was a loss of enthusiasm, but eventually, Niffty raised a hand.

“There are a few places that I haven’t been able to reach when I’m cleaning.” Niffty pulls out a knife. “I suspect that’s where the roaches are keeping their children…” She laughs manically. There’s a pause at the table but you hesitantly agree. “Great! After breakfast, I’ll show you the places I need help with!” She then resumed eating, the knife handily at her side in case of any unexpected bugs.

“Might I say, dear, I’m quite happy that you are taking this job seriously.” Alastor said, taking a sip of his coffee. He was sitting across from you, with no pancakes on his plate. 

“I don’t mind helping out. It’s the least that I can do for you guys for letting me stay here.”

“How useful of you! You know perhaps after helping Niffty, you could assist me with a few things in my room.” The table quieted again. You were about to agree but then Vaggie interjected.

“Alastor, they’ll already be busy with Niffty, and I’m sure Charlie will need some extra assistance later.” You furrowed your brows.

“I did just offer-”

“I’m doing you a favor.” She whispered firmly. Alastor narrowed his eyes, ears pinning back slightly in annoyance. He hummed and sipped his coffee again, eyes trained on the woman.

“Vaggie, I don’t see the point in trying to keep (Y/n) hidden away. Plus, there’s plenty of other demons to worry about other than me.” He rolled his eyes and shrugged with feigned innocence. “You act as if everything I do is an act of malice!” He laughs. Vaggie’s response is grumbling under her breath a few curses, looking over at Charlie when she puts her hand on her shoulder, murmuring comforting words. Your eyes wandered back to the enigmatic deer demon as he enjoyed his coffee, observing him, before looking back down at your plate of pancakes.

You and Niffty stood at the base of the stairs, cleaning supplies littered around your feet. Niffty hands you a duster and towel, as well as some spray for polishing.

“Alright, so I’ve got most of the cleaning on the stairs covered, but up at the top there are some paintings that could use some dusting! I’d just jump on them but I don’t wanna knock them off.” She giggles. “There’s also above some of the doors in the hotel, and once we’re done with that-” She whips out knives. “We go on the attack.” She brightens up. “With your help, the bugs won’t stand a chance!”

She was so small but so freaky.

“Alrighty Nif I’ll get to that.” You say gingerly taking the knives. Once she had scurried off, you quickly put the knives back in the kitchen and climbed the stairs to get to work. As I approached the top of the stairs, I couldn't help but notice the paintings that Niffty had mentioned. The first one was easily within reach, just a foot or so away. I carefully dusted it off and felt a sense of accomplishment from my small contribution. However, the next painting was a different story. It hung much farther away, and as I peered over the railing at the distance below, a sense of unease washed over me.

Mama didn’t raise no bitch. You thought to yourself as you took a breath and leaned over the railing to dust the painting. You could only reach the very top corner of it, your wingspan falling short by a few inches. Trying to adjust your hand placement on the handle of the duster wasn’t much help, so against your better judgment, you swung a leg over the gold bar, straddling the railing to lean forward without falling. You started to lean over, your free hand also being used to keep you from flipping over the edge, when you felt a shift. There was a loud creak before the railing gave way and you began plummeting to the first story. As you let out a piercing scream, you desperately reached out to grab hold of the rail, but it gave way, sending you hurtling towards the ground. The air rushed past you as you plummeted, your heart pounding in your chest, until at last, you collided with...Alastor?

“Nice of you to drop in dear.” He smirked down at you, holding you in his arms. Despite being saved, you didn’t feel safe in the arms of the demon who caught you. Pressed up against his chest, there was no warmth radiating from him, only a baseless cold. The sharp points of his nails dug into your soft skin, and the aroma emanating from him resembled that of a muggy bog. It was a combination of rain-soaked earth, perhaps a hint of sandalwood, and an underlying sharp and putrid scent. Before you could process much more, he released you carelessly, dropping you to the floor. You let out an ‘oomph’ and shot a look of confusion and irritation, causing him to snicker. “Come now (Y/n), why the sour look? You would’ve been a bag of broken bones if I hadn’t popped up. Poor fragile thing~” He sang, poking your side painfully with his microphone. Before you could say anything back he was walking off, humming some old tune. Conflicting emotions rose in your mind as you got up. 

“You okay?” Niffty asked, helping you stand up.

“Yeah, just a little in shock. I’ll be more careful.” And careful you were, cleaning the high-to-reach places within reason. It was only after completing the lobby that you comprehended the vastness of the building. It would take you hours upon hours to finish, so when Niffty ran up to you, ready for a bug hunt, you had to decline in the face of more dusting.

After a long day of cleaning, you were exhausted. Your dominant arm was sore from all the reaching and dusting, and you could feel a bruise had blossomed where Alastor ever so gently dropped you on your ass. You had missed out on lunch and were starving, and you didn’t even realize how late it had gotten until you went to the bathroom and walked past a clock. 

You looked around for Niffty, not knowing where to put up the cleaning supplies. After a bit of searching you sloppily piled the supplies in a random corner with the hopes of retrieving them tomorrow and putting them in their proper places. You leaned your head against the wall and groaned. It had only been a bit over a week of being in hell and you were already burnt out.

“Who knew the point of hell would be suffering.” You mumbled to yourself as you began dragging your tired body to the kitchen to grab some leftovers before heading to your room. As you walked the dimly lit halls, you began to hear a soft tune flow out into the space. Jazzy piano notes chimed slowly, a comforting melody that you couldn’t help but relax to as it graced your ears. It was hypnotic, your body subconsciously moving closer to the music until you reached the source of the playing. In the study sat Alastor at the piano, fingers gracefully gliding across the keys, perfect posture as he played the song. His ears twitched as you stepped into the room, but he didn’t turn.

You found yourself hesitating, standing on the edge of a decision. You wondered if stepping forward would shatter the peacefulness of the moment. Yet, he paused his hands at just the right moment and motioned for you to draw nearer. As you moved to the side of the piano, you observed him as he gracefully carried on with the melody.

“You should be asleep by now, it’s quite late for a human to be up, and there’s much more to be done tomorrow.” He says, hands not missing a single beat when he looks up at you. “Though I guess perhaps it’s my fault for thinking you could remember your own schedule. Silly me, I should have had Charlie remind you to eat.” You huffed a bit at his teasing. It was true though, it seemed like if Charlie didn’t drag you to dinner you’d get distracted and forget.

“Does everything that comes out of your mouth have to be snarky?” You questioned, studying his face. His unwavering smile grew even wider, revealing a flash of cruel delight that flickered in the depths of his intense, red eyes.

“You just make a bit of teasing so easy my dear. It’s hard not to give you a little nudge now and then.”

More like every second of the day.

“Hey, Alastor?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you work at this hotel?”

He seemed to think for a second before slowly getting up. From the floor rose his shadow, a wicked smile dancing across its dark face. You froze, thinking you were about to get jumped again, but relaxed as the shadow took the place of Alastor at the piano, and kept playing. Alastor offered you a hand with a charming smile. Everything felt so warm and cozy, your hazy mind didn’t think twice before grasping his hand. You were tugged closer to him as he began to step back and forth, guiding you in a dance. You did your best to match him but stumbled quite a bit. The only grace he offered was a slightly slower tempo, guiding you through perfectly practiced steps he must have mastered ages ago.

“Isn’t it obvious? Pure boredom my dear.” He twirls you, enjoying how you nearly trip. “Oh to watch such a hopeful dream struggle to blossom out of the depths of despair and utterly fail.” He laughs, pulling you back towards him. “Nothing is quite as entertaining.” You sigh at the unsurprising answer.

“That’s a very you answer.” 

“And what is it that you know about me?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

A blunt answer, but correct nonetheless. He suppressed spreading his grin ever wider at the comment, thinking it best for them not to know how amused he was with them. Truthfully, a human in hell was quite a treat. He couldn’t have been more elated when this weak specimen had walked into the hotel. A perfect new toy in this hotel of misfits. He had to restrain himself from pushing a deal too hard. Owning their soul would make sure that they couldn’t stray from him to escape hell, or fall into the hands of another merciless demon that would eat them up without a second thought. However, he’d risk seeming too pushy, and they’d know his true intentions. At this moment, they appeared completely at ease, wearing a serene smile, creating the perfect opportunity for manipulation.

“I pride myself in always keeping others guessing.” He dips them gracefully, the song coming to an end. “It’s one of the many reasons why I smile my dear.”

When he lifted them back up, they were staring at him with stary eyes, a mix of fascination and hesitance showed plainly across their face. Exactly how he wanted them. He held on to their hand, flipping it sideways.

“Have you thought about my proposition? I don’t mean to be hasty, but your little tumble today, for example, was proof enough of what could happen if you are unprotected.” He said smoothly, hand ever so slightly tightening around theirs. His chest swelled with anticipation and hope as they took a moment to ponder the situation.

“I’m not giving you my soul.” They said firmly. “I may be a little slow, but I’m not THAT stupid.” He chuckled at that.

“Of course not my dear, we don’t need to be that committed. We can start small…” Once again, he drew them together, surrounding the pair with a shimmering green shield, sparking with magic. “I guarantee your safety and that you will not be harmed, and in exchange, you do a favor of my choosing. Easy as pie.” The shimmering shield gradually dissolved, dispersing a faint hum of enchantment and a host of flickering fireflies dancing around the two of you. He took a step back, observing as they deliberated before finally nodding in agreement. He smirks and puts out a hand. Green glows around them, his antlers growing in size.

“So…d̙̮̓͗̃̒̚ỗ̸̷̶́ ̧̯̘̮̪̱́̒̀́̓ͅw̜̹͚̐̇͘͡e̵̢̼͆͂̾̎͊͑͜͞ ̸̡̫͍͈̲͗̑̽̕͝͞h̡̜̺̩͉͇͈̼͋̿͆͂a̫͂̎͏̍̎͝v͕̜͔̽̄͐͌̕e̷̡͉̬̖̣͜ ̗̺̣͚̤̓͌̄͟d̡̫̮̥̘͈͖͆͂̽e̶̸͓̹͈̍̐̇a̧͎͛͛̂͘ḽ̵̘͕̽̒̅̌̃͒?”

They put their hand to meet his, and at the contact, where he expected an explosion of his power, a searing, white-hot burn could be felt in his palm. A blindingly white light glowed around their hands, condensing, before exploding and sending both parties flying to opposite sides of the room.

Alastor hissed as he was thrown into the wall, the structure crumbling from the impact. He shakily stood to his feet, summoning tentacles to assist what he thought might be the start of a battle, but all he saw when the smoke of gravel cleared was (Y/n) on the other side of the room, out cold. He could see the flicker of their soul, a small green light, unstable, and surrounded by a thin layer of white. It twitched and spasmed, almost glitching out as it resided within the human. The white layer was unusual, it pulsed with a protective flare, encasing the soul and preventing his magic from reaching it when they had tried to make the deal.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Alastor looked down at his hand, the flesh burned almost to the bone, a searing mark left from whatever happened when he’d shook (Y/n)’s hand. His eye twitched with irritation, an anger rooted in the humiliation of being hurt in such a way by something as pathetic as the human lying in front of him. A tentacle raised, bloodlust roaring in his ears. Rare or not, he wasn’t going to let someone get away with harming him in such a way, a quick and incredibly painful lesson would do. 

His assault was barely stopped by Vaggie’s angelic spear, pointed in the direction of the demon.

“Hey! Back off!” Charlie stood right behind her, taking in the damaged study.

“What the hell happened?! Oh god, are they dead?!” She said, rushing over to (Y/n)’s unconscious form. Alastor huffed and retracted his tentacles, huffing like a child that just got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. He dusted off his suit and straightened his bow tie.

“Heavens no, don’t be such a worry wart, Charlie.” He mused, beginning to walk out. “But I do have a feeling you should keep an eye on them, there’s certainly more to them than meets the eye.” And with that, he shadows away, a manic laugh echoing through the study.

An entertaining specimen indeed...

Chapter Text

Here AGAIN?!

That was the first thought running through your muddled brain when you processed that you were back in your dream limbo. It had become tedious being trapped in this place. Even though you were not fully conscious, you longed to experience the dreams your mind used to conjure up.

I just gotta wait it out like usual. You thought, expecting to spend the rest of your sleep in the familiar space. But that’s not what happened. Your feet made contact with…the ground? Something was beneath you, rustling, like there was a nonexistent grassy hill under your feet. The dark vegetation was pleasant, like it had been sitting under the sun on a warm summer day and had begun to cool throughout the night. You playfully swung a bare foot against it, letting the soft blades tickle against its sole. Then a flicker of light stirred, before flittering out into the open, and around you. Its soft, white light pulsed a soothing rhythm and a low hum of tiny wings. 

A firefly.

The tiny bug flew playful patterns around you, making you giggle. You reach a hand out to offer it a resting place, and it lands on the tip of your finger. The firefly’s light then slowly begins making its way across your finger, spreading across your hand. The light is thin and translucent, spreading up your arm and across the rest of your body, like a comfy blanket on a cold day.

You feel a spark of familiarity.

A cozy warmth.

You are safe.

When your eyes open to the ceiling of your room, the soft security you felt in your sleep is still prominent. It’s the most content you’ve felt since getting down here. You snuggle deeper into the covers of your bed, thinking to yourself how nothing could possibly-

“Up and at em’ are we?” 

“SHIT ALASTOR FUCK-” You screamed and jumped, well more like rolled, out of bed. Alastor leaned over you on the ground, an impish smile on his face.

“Good to see you’re well rested my dear!” He chirps and snatches your arm, yanking you up onto your feet.

“Alastor, what the hell, I’ve been awake for FIVE seconds and you’re already all up in my business.” You groan and rub your eyes. “And how did you get in my room.”

“Well, you weren’t awake to lock the door. Don’t you remember anything after our attempt at a deal, might I say I’m SO disappointed that it didn’t work out. I was looking forward to our budding friendship .” He glanced at his nails, brows furrowed with annoyance. 

“Wait, what? Deals can fail?”

“Apparently!” His static increased with his volume. “Why, I didn’t think it was possible, since usually the only case it wouldn’t be if the person’s soul were owned already and said person tried to give it to another person, but that’s not the case…is it?” He dropped the static at the end. You paused and looked to the side.

“No…?”

“Is that a question my dear?”

“...No?” 

His eyes narrowed, ears twitching. You wondered what you said wrong.

Such a vexing little thing. Alastor thought to himself as he stared down at the clueless human.

How could someone be so incredibly oblivious to their own soul’s state of being? You had what could only be a shield around your soul, and you didn’t even know that? It should be impossible.

His smile strained as he watched you ramble the few things you remembered about your previous interaction. You fumbled over your words in a sleepy haze, pausing in between words for so many “uhs” it made his eye twitch. He would be laughing if he weren’t so baffled. Then again, why should he expect so much from a mere human? You knew nothing of hell, magic, souls, etc, so why should he have trusted you to know something as simple as if your soul was still your own? His attempt to make a deal, however, had proven that you did still have your soul, but that deals and things of the sort were most likely out of the question.

That, you were also unaware of.

The notion brought him satisfaction in light of his failed plan. He’d done well to figure out something that the others didn’t know. In his mind, a partial success.

“No matter,” He said, taking your hand and inspecting it, “seems you got out of it unscathed. How…interesting~” He mused, showing you his hand.

“What happened?” You asked, reaching for his bandaged hand. His other hand came up and smacked yours away. “Dude-”

“Our little attempt at a deal backfired, my dear. Seared my skin right to the bone!” He laughed. “I will say I’m impressed! Not a lot of people can say they harmed the Radio demon and lived to tell the tale!” He wasn’t smiling as much as he was barring his teeth at you, eyes flashing with a predatory glint. He was happy when he saw you shrink.

Despite his deer qualities, he was rightfully known as a predator. He knew this back when he was alive, hunting down people and murdering them for his own sadistic sake. The rush of endorphins from hunting, from striking fear into those weaker than him, or even of taking a life was as familiar as breathing. But what he felt when he looked at this human?

 It was as if he was going to kill for the first time. 

He wasn’t sure what about you stirred this interest, though he expected it was your physical and mental humanity. It is a true treat in hell, where humans who were corrupted through death found themselves. You were smaller than most demons, always looking up when he or most of the others conversed with you. And you failed to take most things seriously. You were unaware of the dangers that could come for you, what true hell meant. After all, you had been coddled from the time you were dropped into this wretched place.

That “purity”, whether true to your character or not, that he believed drew him in. You were a drop of blood in the ocean, yet he was the only shark that had smelt it, and he would take full advantage of that. He had you to himself, and he’d make sure it stayed that way until he could savor your destruction. He wanted to tear your pretty little soul out and rip it to shreds, but that would be too hasty. And since he got a glimpse of it, he had realized that might be easier said than done. That glowing shield around your soul…it was nothing less than angelic. It’s what caused his hand to be injured in his attempt at a deal. Despite the frailty of your physical form, the ethereal power that permeated your soul was striking. It intrigued him to consider how easily your mortal body could be extinguished, while your soul pulsed with unrevealed abilities. You didn’t realize this, giving him the upper hand, but as he discovered, you could injure him, even if on purpose. But Alastor could take a little pain for his guaranteed pleasure.

A rose with thorns was all the more precious in his twisted mind.

Okay is he mad that his hand got fucked up or happy because this is confusing.

Alastor had been staring at you for much longer than was socially acceptable. Then again, what did Alastor do that was socially acceptable?

He’s probably internally monologing…I wonder what about? I’ll do the same and stare him in the eyes. What to think about…OH, I know! Dream guest on my podcast-

“What’s going on in that silly little head of yours my dear?” He tilted his head playfully, his demeanor completely shifting. His tone was teasing. You tilted your head to the opposite way.

“I don’t know, what are YOU thinking about.”

“I asked first~”

“You wouldn’t know her.”

“Know who exactly?”

“Jojo Siwa, she’s a-”

“My dear,” He put a pointy finger to your lips, “ I do not care for this…Gojo Saywah.” He backed up, walking around your bed. “I just came for a quick check-up, I have much to attend to.”

You rolled your eyes. “And here I thought you were here to keep me company.”

“AHA! No!” He barked cheerfully. “Though this has been an…informative visit. It’s such a shame we can’t work together, you must be destined to be alone.” You were wondering how long he’d be sticking around.  He hummed at your deadpanned expression.

“I do have a little gift for you though. It was supposed to be a celebratory bonus to commemorate our deal, but I’ll be generous and bestow it on you anyway.” From behind his back, he pulled out a small black box with red detailing. The leathery exterior opened on its own to show a velvety interior, with a charm bracelet in the center. It was silver with black and red jewels, with a small, silver charm of a deer skull hanging from the side.

“Wow, Alastor this is really cute! Thank you, you didn’t have to!” You pick it up and observe the bracelet, feeling its comfortable weight in your hand. It didn’t look cheap, and the jewels didn’t appear to be plastic beads like the bracelets you’re used to. “How much was this?” He straightened himself up.

Damn, now he’s gonna flex how rich he is.

“Don’t fret about it. When you’re an Overlord, money is no issue.” He was like a bird puffing his feathers, not a drop of humility in his body language. He gestured for you to stick out your arm, which you obliged, and plucked the bracelet from its box. He secured it around your wrist with a soft ‘click’. It had a surprising amount of weight for such a small bracelet, but it didn’t bother you. Your wrist tingled for a moment, you could’ve sworn you felt it pulse …but that must have just been the cold of the bracelet. “What lovely ornamentation my dear! Quite lovely, wouldn’t you say.” He rotated your wrist, observing the bracelet from different angles, the jewels shimmering under the room’s yellow lighting.

You were almost mesmerized…almost. Alastor had never been so close for so long, almost touching you. He wasn’t poking fun at you or mocking you, just giving you a gift. It was a complete 180 from his usual behavior, and it made you a little suspicious.

A knock at the door made you both turn. Alastor backed away from you, putting his arms behind his back as Husk walked in. Husk’s tired demeanor had a hint of sheepishness as he approached, but his ears pinned themselves back in annoyance at the sight of Alastor.

“Husker, what a surprise! Come to pay our friend a visit?” Alastor’s contempt smile turned derisive at the cat’s look of disdain.

“Yeah, what else would I come by for? Why the hell are you here?”

“As you just said, ‘why else’?” Alastor turned back to you. “I’m afraid I will have to be on my way. Glad to see you’re doing well and that you fancy my gift. Until next time my dear, ta ta!” He bowed and shadowed out of the room. Once his shadow disappeared, Husk huffed and walked over to you.

“Did you not listen to a goddamn thing I said when I told you not to make a deal with Alastor?” He had his arms crossed, face stern, but eyes flickering over your form.

“Well, technically I didn’t-”

“Well, technically, ya still tried!”

You wanted to be annoyed, but it was amusing watching Husk scold you. You were less focused on his words and more on his twitching ears. He raised an eyebrow at your snickering. “And this is why when ya end up dead, I’m gonna laugh.” He took a swig from his bottle of god knows what. “What was it that happened anyway? You almost made a deal but didn’t go through with it.” You thought for a moment about the hazy memory of your almost deal.

“I…guess? It’s hard to say.” You sigh. “Though, in the end, it didn’t work, and that’s what matters, right?” Husk’s only response was a grumble. Husk informed you about how you’d slept through the entire day, and dinner was almost ready, as well as any interesting things you’d missed while being knocked out. You both continued talking for a while, just hanging out. In the past week, you’d learned that Husk was an interesting guy to talk to. Not only to talk to, but to listen to. He had told you the scoop on everyone in the hotel, since as the bartender he knew almost everything, and listening to his wise words was always a joy.

Well, if joy was incredibly depressing, but interesting words.

Either way, it was nice to have a sit-down break with him. Angel had originally been your closest friend in the hotel, but since you were forced to play parol officer and search his room, he had been pretty agitated with your presence and avoided you. But since you went on a mini shopping trip with Husk, you’d both been having more and more conversations. He was rough around the edges, but overall pretty nice. Level-headed, compassionate, an alcoholic. yes. but not an aggressive one. Plus, it was always fun to watch how expressive his cat features were, though you know he’d get defensive if you said something about it.

He offered to bring you dinner in case you still felt bad, but you figured you could get it yourself. Tingles traveled throughout your body as you hopped off the bed, making you wobble. Husk put a paw on the small of your back to keep you stable, but after a few seconds, you gave him the okay to let go. You continued to talk as you made your way to the dining room.

Chapter Text

Helping out Charlie was fun and all, but girl was STRESSED.

Her mind was constantly firing at 100% with the hotel to make her dream come true. Redemption and the comfort of her guests were her top priorities, and you know she appreciates your help more than she can express because even with Vaggie, it can still be a lot to do on her own.

“OKAY. So this exercise should work great, and maybe Angel will actually participate this time!” Charlie exclaimed, writing out a plan for a redemption exercise. She kept mumbling to herself while you stood beside her, head in the clouds, until she was waving a hand in your face.

“Sorry, what?” You responded, snapping out of your daze and looking at her.

“I was talking about the supplies I’ll need for the exercise, and I was thinking maybe you can grab them for me! Get some… semi-fresh air!” She says, gesturing to the outside. “Of course, if you don’t want to that’s perfectly fine, I know it’s a bit scary being a human in hell,” She pauses, “Which speaking of we need to figure out a way to get you out of here. I’ve just been so busy and-” You stop her.

“Girl, you’re good. It’s fine. I don’t mind getting supplies. And I’m sure you’ll find a way to send me backup to earth in no time.” She gave you a smile and a big hug.

This girl is too good for this world…or hell at least. You thought as you hugged her back.

“You’ll need someone to go with you though.” She backed up and turned to Angel, who was lying across the couch on his phone. “Hey, Angel? Would you mind going with (Y/n) to-”

“Yeah, I do mind.” He dismissed, not looking up from his device. Charlie frowned and sighed. Husk perked up from the bar.

“Hey I don’t mind-”

“I’ll accompany our darling human.” Your head whipped to the side to see Alastor appear behind you and Charlie, eyes closed with a charming smile. “I’ve been itching for an outing on the town after being cooped up in my radio tower writing scripts from dawn to dusk.” All of you looked at him with surprise, though Charlie just seemed happy that someone could go with you. Husk’s ears flattened and he put his head back on the bar.

“Great! Here’s a list of all the things I need.” She hands you a list. “And of course, we can't forget your disguise!” Her giddy smile widens as she takes out the small fake horns she had you wear on your last outing and places them on your head, singing a tune resembling ceremonial trumpets. “Tadaaaa you’re ready!” Your mouth twitches with an amused smile at the prospect that somehow a simple headband would make people think you were a demon.

But hey nobody noticed last time so if it works it works.

Alastor’s head tilted at the sight, but he didn’t voice his opinion on the subpar camouflage.

“Now that you’re in a fine fettle, shall we be going?” He opens the hotel door for you. You nod and wave goodbye to Charlie, stepping out of the glass doors and into the chaotic outdoors of hell.

You squinted at the list of neatly written items next to perfectly square check boxes, reading through the list of supplies.

“I guess it’s a good thing you came with me Alastor, there’s a lot of supplies she wants in bulk and I assume you’ll be able to send it back to the hotel with your magic, right?” As you gaze up at the demon, he nods confidently and raises his hand, swirling green arcane energy crackling and pulsing in his grasp.

“Yes, I can, dear. It’s one of my many talents, as you know.” A tentacle shot up from the ground to stop a stray car from running you both over. You had paused to throw your hands up at the sight of headlights reactively, but Alastor just kept walking as if the car he just stopped was a mere mosquito that was squashed. “Oh deer, don’t get caught up in the headlights.” He laughed and his laugh track played from his cane. You blinked and jogged to catch up with him.

Being inside the hotel was MUCH  better than being subjected to actual hell. The part of the city you were walking through right now was especially crawling with chaotic sinners. Screams were as common as cicadas’ songs in the summer, and you couldn’t easily adjust to the constant, uncomfortable spice in the air that made your lungs simmer with a slight burn. The red glow of the sky still irked you, your heart yearning for the soft blue you were accustomed to on Earth. Inside the hotel, your homesickness didn’t go unnoticed. But here, the twisting in your stomach became even more present while quite literally walking through hell.

“Why the long face? Not enjoying the scenery?” Alastor asked with a whimsical smirk.

Damn it, I forgot that expressing any sort of negative emotions around this guy was an invitation to an awful time. He’s like a dog that can smell fear…actually, he probably CAN smell fear.

“I don’t think anybody is necessarily happy to be in hell. Especially when I’m like this.” You gestured to yourself in its human entirety. Alastor chuckled, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“But it is quite an interesting predicament! Even more interesting that nobody has noticed your… half-baked disguise.” He poked your horns with a claw, causing them to tilt awkwardly, which you quickly fixed.

“Dude, if I get attacked, you’re gonna have to be the one to defend me.” You say with an annoyed huff.

“I’m under no obligation dear.” He muses, a twisted smile quirking into a smirk. His squinted eyes twinkled with mischief “Our deal never registered~” 

“Yeah, but Charlie won’t be happy if you come back with a dead human.” You argued. It only amused him more as he continued forward, humming to himself, sending the message that he was listening, but all he hears is another fun possibility about your misery. You scoffed and looked back down at the list in your hands.

“Okay, so some of the things on here are just general hardware and arts and crafts items. Does hell have a hobby lobby?”

“Hm, certainly not dear.”

“Ah, that’s a surprise.” 

“There is however,” He halts your walking with an arm, and with the other gestures up to a large building with the name “Michell’s” spelled across the front with flaming barbed wire. “This lovely place!”

“...You know, I like how they got around the copyright.” 

You both walked inside, through the automatic doors and began your search for supplies.

“Soooo we need a shit ton of glue…a shit ton of fabric…oh wait specifically glitter glue.” You looked up from the list and over at Alastor. He hits his staff on the ground and a glowing green circle forms around it. From it, shadowy figures emerge, forming small, dark imps with voodoo doll-like features. They scurried off, all grabbing supplies and throwing them into another portal that had spawned. You stood back and watched as they gathered the supplies. Alastor took the list and had them get the rest of what you could from the store, before handing it back to you. 

“Now off to the next store!” He recalled his little helpers and began walking out.

“Hold up we gotta pay- he’s not stopping.” You sighed and used Charlie’s hotel debit card that she gave you. You then ran out of the store to catch up with Alastor, AGAIN. “Is it impossible for you to just wait for me?” You asked, panting slightly due to the distance you had to run to catch up with him. “I mean compared to you man, I have short legs.” He laughs and looks down at you.

“Ah, and that’s just so hilarious to me. You’re exceptionally fun sized.” He taps your head with his microphone. 

“Ain’t my fault you’re a tree.” You gesture to his tall stature.

“I’m actually a deer, dear.” You can’t help but laugh.

“That’s the second time you’ve used that pun, Alastor.” You muse, looking up at him. “Running out of 'em?” A sinister smirk spreads across his face. 

“Hm, can you do better?”

“Hell yeah, I can do be- deer.”

For the first time, you see this man pause. You feel a smile of both amusement and satisfaction grace your lips. It was like he had glitched for a split second

“You know? Cus it’s like better, but the ter part is replaced with deer so it’s like-”

“Silence.”

On your way to the next shop, you continue your streak of terrible puns. You could try harder, but seeing his ears twitch with irritation made you laugh. You figured he’d get all demony to make you stop since you figured you were pushing his limits a bit, but he just continued to listen to them as you walked. You could’ve sworn you saw genuine amusement in that deadpan smile, if not for a second. You are once again halted, this time by a hand over your mouth.

“(Y/n), I beseech your silence before my ears begin to bleed. I would like to shop in silence.” He walks into the store. You look up at the front of the store, reading out “Hell Depot”.

“A little uncreative but eh.” You then walk in after Alastor. This store is much bigger, filled with different home decor, wood, and what you could only assume to be demon dads having their weekly gathering. Same as Earth, how lovely.

You both repeated what you did at the previous store. It took a lot longer since the shadow guys had to haul so much more supplies. You stood ideally, waiting for them to finish up, before looking over at Alastor. 

“So what other powers do you have ?” You ask, rocking back and forth. Alastor twirls his cane and leans down to you.

“Many that you wouldn’t even be able to comprehend.” He flicks your forehead. “Silly human brain.” You let out a quiet noise of pain and touch your forehead.

“For someone who hates being touched, you sure are touchy.” His eyes twinkle and you instinctively take a step back. You thought maybe he was gonna poke you, ruffle your hair, anything like what he usually does. You were, however, NOT expecting him to reach out and grab your entire face like a basketball. His hands were huge, his palms encompassed the sides of your face and his long, spindly fingers squeezed around you, sharp ends pricking you.

“I simply find your squishiness intriguing darling.” He grins down at you as you squirm, grip firm. You almost worry for a second that the reason he’s holding you like an oversized, spherical sandwich is because he’s about to BITE you like one, but then he lets go, and walks out the store.

“Why does everyone keep saying that…” You could suppose it was true, though you doubted that all demons were as tough as the ones you met. You then noticed that all of the shadow demons were gone. You quickly go to the front desk and pay for all the supplies, before heading out of the store and looking for Alastor. You whip your head in every direction he could’ve gone, searching for him, before your mouth gapes with disbelief. 

“HE FRIGGIN’ LEFT ME!” You yelled, drawing a bit of attention. You shut your mouth and kept looking around, but he was still nowhere to be seen.

Out of all the things he could do, he decided to leave me stranded in the middle of hell. I shouldn’t be surprised but damn this is unfortunate.

You instinctually patted your pocket, but it was empty save for some gum and the debit card Charlie gave you. It felt rude to ask someone for a phone, but this whole situation would be better if you could just whip one out and pull the “Mom come pick me up” card to Charlie. Unfortunately, your reality was standing outside an off-brand home depot, with a really bad demon disguise, and no idea how to get back to a hotel. You resigned yourself to the very real possibility of getting lost, and began walking in the direction you hoped was your temporary home.

The streets in this part of town were particularly busy. It was filled with different shops ranging from restaurants to mini-malls. You’d conclude that this was probably the center of Pentagram City, and begin praying even harder that everybody remains oblivious to your fake horns. You then notice you’re walking by what you can only assume is a border. The center of the city’s brick street cuts off to dark blueish purple tiles. Your eyes sparkle in wonder at the bright lights just across the invisible line as you’re met with a vibrant city with technology galore. You’re tempted to explore, but you know that would be a death wish.

Thankfully from here, you can see the Hazbin Hotel, and continue your journey back, when there's a loud announcement from a nearby TV.

“ New and improved Voxtech smart computer! It’s so thin, you can stick it up your ass without lube! Voxtech, trust us, with your-” 

Before you hear it finish, demons from all around begin stampeding to rush to the nearest tech store to purchase this new item. You’re almost knocked over by the sheer amount of people running past you, pushing and shoving you like it’s the beginning of black friday. On shaky legs, you push through the crowd, get thrown around, and eventually are spit out on the other side of the tsunami. Bruises quickly form on your arms and you hiss as you move.

“Took a bit of a tumble my dear?” A red hand is now in front of your face. Your eye twitched as you looked up at Alastor, who had finally appeared.

“Yeah, no shit.” You roughly grab his hand and pull yourself up. “Why did you have to run off again? What if I got lost?” He smirks and lets out a snicker.

“Oh, you have much better things to worry about right now my dear.” You squinted, not knowing what he was referring to. He pointed a finger at his head and your hands shot up to your hair, where the headband was no longer nestled. You feel a spark of panic begin to ignite in your bones, but it calms rather quickly.

“I’m sure it's fine! We should just hurry back, there’s no way demons are gonna spot the difference and immediately jump on me when my only disguise in the first place was some fake horns. I mean seriously, no way that kept them away.” He kept laughing, shoulders shaking as he snickered like he had been told the funniest joke ever. 

Then you heard a growl.

Not just one, but like a hive of bees being hit, sounds of aggression began to buzz around you. You couldn’t tear your eyes from Alastor’s growing, sadistic smile as you felt the shift in mood around you, but eventually, you turned to see the demons around you looking with a mixture of wonder and hunger.

“Are you serious?! Now y'all notice?” The rhetorical question couldn’t have been answered with how fast a demon jumps at you. Its movements are clumsy and uncoordinated, and you take the opportunity to get some distance between you and the other demons. There are at least 6 that have noticed, and due to their shouting about a human, more are gathering. You look over to where Alastor was standing and he is, for the millionth time, gone. “ALASTOR COME BACK DUDE NOT COOL.”  

Another demon nearly grabs you, a commotion building up. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a demon with a camera recording you amid the chaos, but you don’t focus on them for long, trying to find Alastor.

“Oh my god, this asshole.” You grumble, right before you’re grabbed by someone. The scene is chaotic as their razor-sharp nails threaten to pierce your arm as you’re pulled away. You're only freed when other demons join in, trying to snatch you for themselves. It's a frenzied tangle of horns and claws, and you're trapped in the midst of it all, unable to find an out that isn’t blocked by an aggressive demon. You can hear some sympathetic demons outside of the brawl, but none of them are gonna help you. You’re on your own.

Through flailing arms, you see Alastor sitting on a bench a good ways away from the frenzy. He plucks a newspaper from a nearby box and begins to read it, not sparing you his gaze.

“ALASTOR I’M FUCKING SERIOUS HELP ME!” You shout, dodging between a large demon’s legs, but getting grabbed by his tail. Alastor gasps in surprise.

“Oh my word…A sale in cannibal towns for a festival? What a steal Rosie.” He reads to himself. It was on you for thinking he could be concerned. His name dies in your throat as the attacking demon’s tail squeezes around your leg and drags you back through his legs. You kick and flail, but are overall helpless as you dangle in front of the demon, his maw opening to sharp rows of teeth. Then you hear a sigh, one as though a mess caused by a child needed to be cleaned up.

“I suppose I should intervene. I’ve been wanting to let loose and, what is it the kids say, ̴̹͔͈̽͋̔͆͜͞f̴̷̧̛̰̮͆̓͐̉̕̚ṷ̧͖̇͑̓͒͂͌͢͜c͉͓̻̋͊́̔͠k̬͍̣̄̃̊̾͐ ̸̴̰̬͍̃̑̋͜͞s͇̯̳̽͒̽͊̌̚ḧ̞̯̪́̃̑ị̺̻͕̓͗͊̀̚ţ̶͔̎͋̒̕̚̕͏̙ ̶̭̦͚̗̒͊͛̓͌u͍̠͂̇̓̌͐̄̕͟p̪̺̥̾̓̏͆̀͟͞?̭̝͓͚̊͛̒̅” Static crackles and bones snapping to reform fill the air, the demons around you silent as the revered radio demon changes form to a large, twisted version of himself. His sharp yellow teeth part to release a sinister laugh as tentacles crash into the ground, slaughtering the sinners that had attacked you. You felt the slightest bit of satisfaction, but you were still pretty miffed that he let you get attacked.

Minutes of agonized screams and watching Alastor rip people apart and eat them. When he let out his last crackle and the distortion began to drop from his voice, he shrunk to his usual size, and the blood lust fizzled from the air.

“That was an A̵̶̢̪͚̫̤̋̈́͌M̮̤͓̣̓̀͑Ã̪̯̼̰̪̀̅Z͏͚̖̹̹̀̊͂̋̉̃I̷͙̹̟̎̿̓̈́͂̚͜N̸̼̰̞̦͍̒̒́͘G̖͙̼͐̔̋̏̊͌ workout! What a release of tension might I say.” His shoulders rolled back, letting his bones pop. You had a deep, unhappy frown while you watched him act like he just got out of a yoga class. You were covered in gore, bits of brain stuck in your hair, blood dripping from your clothes. His eyes flickered with delightment at the sight. “Come now dear, why the long face? I did come to your rescue after all.”

“Yeah, after watching me struggle like hell!”

“You held your own, quite the slippery thing aren’t you?”

“Still, not a slay Alastor.”

“Oh, but I DID slay them. That’s why you’re safe and sound.” He booped your nose with a claw.

“Okay one, not what I meant by slay, and two, mental damage is real damage, trust.”

“I will “trust” you when you speak proper English.” He grabbed your arm. “Now back to the hotel we go, that’s enough excitement for the day.” You spent the rest of the walk back to the hotel trying to explain modern-day lingo to Alastor. 

“Once again darling, your exasperating words are displeasing me.” You open your mouth but are silenced with a glare. “Keep talking and that mouth will be sewn shut, just as my mother taught me to sew my trousers.”

You decided not to test that threat.

Chapter Text

Relief was the first thing you felt as you were greeted with the familiar sight of the Hazbin Hotel. Your legs ached marginally from the sudden amount of walking, and from the brawl of demons you were forced into. Despite his previous transgressions, he had the courtesy to still open the door for you.

So this wasn’t too much trouble for him but coming to my rescue when I asked him to was.

You glance up at his insidious grin and roll your eyes as you pass him, making your way to the living room. The relief dissipated into mortification when you saw everyone sitting around the TV, your face flashing front and center on the electric surface.

“A HUMAN IN HELL?! SEEN WITH THE RADIO DEMON?”

The words flashed below a crudely taken picture of you fighting for your life against the demons that had tried snatching you up whilst you were out shopping.

“THAT’S the photo they chose to use?!” You blurt out. Everyone looks at you like you have two heads.

“And THAT’S what you're concerned about? Not that all of hell knows that you’re here and is probably gonna come busting down our front door?” Vaggie gestures to the window, referencing the violent population that was now aware of your presence in their domain.

“Hey, that photo being broadcasted is a danger of its own!”

The TV continued to flash different pictures and headlines pertaining to you and your whereabouts, before cutting to a man at a desk with a charming, digital expression across the demon’s platinum screen face. He had a suit of electric blue stripes that matched the sharp tips of his fingers, which clutched a script excitedly. His left eye was wide with an exuberant gleam as he broadcasted the groundbreaking discovery.

“Top of the hour and today we’ll be discussing an absolutely unheard of happening! A human was spotted dead center in hell, causing an absolute frenzy! However, the radio demon showed up to save their sorry ass, slaughtered demons in a totally lame and uninteresting way, and whisked them off to the Hazbin hotel! And just look at how many people across the Pentagram are making their way to that very location, more on the news later tonight!” In the top corner of the screen, the hotel was flashed, before enlarging to show countless demons rushing up to the hotel.

“Ah shit.” Angel Dust said. “Great job bitch, now even more demons are gunnin’ for us. Now we gotta gun them.” Angel Dust’s third pair of arms appear, holding his pair of guns. He turns to Charlie, waiting for the go ahead, but she waves her arms nervously in protest.

“No no no guys!” Charlie stood up, pacing around with and wringing her hands, “We can solve this peacefully!” She stopped walking and her eyes grew big, before she turned to Vaggie. “MAYBE we could use this as an opportunity to get people into the hotel! They’re already coming in hoards, so if we direct their attention to the amazing idea of redemption, they’ll be more focused on that than eating (Y/n)! It’s a win win!” She put her hands on her hips and beamed. Everyone seemed extremely skeptical of the plan, but she was already frantically writing a script for Angel Dust to say to the crowd that was forming at the doors.

“Um, I don’t think this is gonna work.” You whisper to Angel. He shrugs and puts away his guns, his expression flat.

“Toots, she’s in Charlie-mode, might as well ride it out and get it over with.” He heads over to the girl and waits for instructions. Husk begins walking back to the bar, but Vaggie grabs him by the tail and drags him to the group to brainstorm eye-catching marketing tactics.

Before long, Charlie concludes the mini meeting and begins hustling everyone, save for you and Alastor, to the courtyard of the hotel. She opens the door, revealing a stampede coming up to the hotel, before turning to you and Alastor.

“Al, just in case things go wrong, I trust you can guard (Y/n) like you did earlier?” You look at Charlie with shock.

“If guarding is standing by and watching me get-”

“Fear not, I will do just I did previously.” Alastor says with a sly smile. You grimaced. At least you’re in the hotel and could run and hide if Alastor decided to once again say “fuck it” and let you raw dog a fight with demons.

The commotion just outside the walls of the hotel could be easily heard from the study. You rose to your knees, peaking over the plush crimson chair to attempt to catch a glimpse of the crowd.

“It looks like there’s a lot of people.” You mumble into the backrest. You felt a gentle push atop your head, looking up to see Alastor’s cane pressing you back under the cover of the furniture. He tutted and waved the microphone in front of your face.

“I’d stay down if I were you darling. If they see you they’ll definitely start fumbling in a tizzy to eat up your little soul.” He gives your head a final pat before striding to the chair across the room and picking up a book to delve into. You flipped around to sit in the chair correctly, stretching your legs across the floor. 

“Why can’t we just go to your room? Wouldn’t that be safer there since it’s deeper in the hotel?” He huffed dismissively, similar to his reaction when you attempted to rival his witty puns. 

“You’re just fine right here.” You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms. He flips the page of his book, resting it on his crossed legs. “No need to pout, dear, you’ll be safe and sound in this room.”

As if on cue, a rock was thrown through the window closest to you, glass shattering onto the floor.

“...You were saying?”

Alastor’s brow furrowed and he stood up to pear out the hole, a tentacle slithering out of the forced opening, not minding the sharp glass as it twisted and grappled whoever threw the rock, the sound of shrieks and flesh ripping piercing your ears. 

“This is a little bothersome.” He retracts his tentacle, causing it to return to a pool of shadows. “As much as I love chaos I was hoping for a quiet evening after our outing.” His head snaps towards you in a 180 rotation, before his body turns as well and begins traveling closer to the chair you reside in. “I have half the mind to throw you out into that mob myself.” His aura begins shifting, the resting smile spreading into a smirk. Despite his tranquility just moments before this, his sudden switch made you want to get up and throw yourself out the window and into danger just to get away. How could he make you feel this sudden need to flee, that any fate would be better than him?

His morphed pupils ticked, and he grabbed your face with a painful grip for just his thumb and index. He stared into your eyes, penetrating your soul in a sense that was far too literal. His magic glowed green, billowing off his red suit and allowing him to look deeper under the surface of your physical form. You felt a sudden nakedness, as though you were bare before him, though you were physically clothed. Your eyes flickered down to the center of your body, where a pulsing, green orb slowly came into view. You blinked wildly, trying to clear your eyes from what you considered a hallucination.

“What..what the hell are you doing.” You couldn’t look up at him. You just stared at your soul as it wavered and glowed with a dull white light in your chest, as if keeping your eyes off the demon in front of you would make him disappear. Was that really your soul? Is he the one showing it to you? What is he about to do? 

The possibilities made your mind whirl, and the lack of acknowledging the snapping of his bones as he morphed into a larger, more bone chilling version of himself did as much good as hiding under the covers would if there were monsters under your bed, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. You could feel him relishing in your flimsy security and leaning closer, his breath was faint, but smelled far from fresh, only adding to your dismay. He was so close.

Getting closer.

Reaching out to tear out your soul-

You move before you can register just how bad your body was shaking, how the intense feeling of your back against a wall in the face of someone so twisted, and how your muscles caused you to lunge a fist to connect right with Alastor’s nose. The adrenaline had made you black out for just that moment, before the white hot pain of your hand came hurtling through your nerves, making you scream and double over, clutching your limp hand. It throbs with pain and rips whines from your throat as you look at the mangled bones underneath your tender flesh.

Looking down at your broken hand, it finally caught up to you what a bad idea it was to punch a demon of his caliber. Your body had moved on its own, a fear response that happened to be fight. But you knew that excuse wouldn’t hold up against Alastor. Your mind buzzed with a new fear, overpowering the pain once again in your hand. If you thought you were in trouble before, he was definitely gonna murder you now. You were gonna get the ass beating of your life and you’d just have to stand there and-

…wait.

Why does he look like that?

Alastor had quite enjoyed his outing with the resident human. Watching them get into a scuffle with demons, watching their weak attempt to stay afloat in the roaring sea of hungry claws and fangs was extremely amusing, and even more interesting when they didn’t get hurt.

It was far too lucky to be coincidental.

But either way, he ripped apart the rabble when he saw fit, and had (Y/n) returned to the hotel safe and sound. His deed was done, or so he thought. The noisy picture box screeched out news of the human and acted as a siren to brutal demons across the pentagram to come and try and snatch up the easy target from the hotel, and Charlie requested that he play babysitter. 

Alastor feigned neutrality that bordered annoyance, his smile never dropping as he sat in the study with the human. He observed them as they poked their head over the top of the chair they resided in, mumbling about the masses coming to get them. For a brief moment he did genuinely consider throwing them out to see what would happen. If they were given the boot, would the mob rip them apart, or would they miraculously come out unscathed again? Of course he wouldn’t throw away such a rare toy so carelessly, but the experiment was a fun thought that bounced inside his twisted mind.

It was almost hard to keep up this bothered persona with the giddiness constantly swelling in his chest. Every fantastically dangerous situation for them was an opportunity to observe the raw reactions of a human when faced with dangers much greater than its own power. And especially with this human’s… unique soul, it was the show of a life-time!

“This is a little bothersome.”  He murmured to (Y/n), looking down at them without a flicker of his true excitement. “As much as I love chaos I was hoping for a quiet evening after our outing.” 

Oh, so useful was the skill of deception.

He’d hoped for more entropy surrounding this weak bag of flesh and blood he was being forced to protect. It was a strange tugging he felt, something akin to what he felt when he hunted. When his rifle weighed a comfortable, heavy weight in his hands, and a large buck lay just ahead. However, it’s surrounded by broken off tree branches. He mustn't move too quickly, or he’d risk losing the perfect hunt he longs for. 

In this case though, he couldn’t wait for the perfect shot, he wanted a preview of that delicious fear, that strange soul, that wondrous, angelic humanity he was going to corrupt.

His antlers grew, as well as his entire body as his emotions manifested into his magic flowing free from his body. (Y/n) looked up at him, terrified, of course. He’d expect nothing less from a pathetic human backed into a corner so suddenly by such a powerful Overlord. With his powerful magic, he could see their soul shimmering inside them. He allowed them to see it as well in order to remind them what he could take from them if he so chose. He began reaching out to it, expecting to connect with the ball of energy in front of him, but his head was suddenly thrown back as a hand connected with his face.

CRACK

He felt the unfamiliar sensation of pain rushing to his nose, along with the trickle of blood that ran down to his lips. The disturbing crackle didn’t come from his nasal cavity, but from the fragile bones of the human’s hand that stand in front of him. 

You had punched him.

You, a human, punched him, the Radio Demon.

His pupil’s burned a brighter red as he looked in front of him at the doubled over figure, their eyes brimming with tears of pain and determination. That look of valor despite the overwhelming panic that he could practically taste, along with the throbbing of his nose…something about it made him shudder with pleasure.

His tongue swiped across his upper lip as he tasted the salty iron liquid that flowed out of his injured nose. The pain he felt from getting punched by them was so incredibly rich, and it took his entire being to hold himself still from shaking with gratification. He couldn’t have you knowing that such actions of yours affected him this way, especially when he himself hardly understood it. He was overwhelmed with the opposing emotions and tensions in the room, dazed and bursting with magic that wanted to grab the human and watch them fight and squirm as he mindlessly gored them and saw each and every one of those delicious reactions. Better yet, maybe they’d put up a fight and offer him the pain that made his mind tick.

“Might I say, my dear…that’s one hell of a right hook.” His teeth were barred, only making (Y/n) tense more. They were also overwhelmed, but for completely different reasons. Alastor adjusted his monocle with one hand, and raised the other as if about to launch an attack. He doesn’t plan on maiming them, but another push couldn’t hurt. He didn’t want to miss another opportunity to see what this spontaneous human would do in the face of true danger.

Outside of the hotel, Charlie stood at the bottom steps in front of the double glass doors. She puts a hand up to shield her eyes from the flashing lights of the press that are set up in front of her establishment. The rest of her staff and singular attendant stood behind her, holding scripts that Charlie had whipped up in hopes of using the media to spread word about her project. Though she was barely able to get a word in with all these questions being thrown at her by the gossip hungry Voxtech demons.

“EHM,” She clears her throat above the gas, “I know you’re all very excited about our special guest from earth, but may I also present to you…” She grabs Angel Dust by the shoulders and forces him to the front of the group. He blinks but with a grumble looks down at the papers in his hands and begins to read in an enthusiastic voice.

“This hotel has really made me turn my life around.” He squints at the words in front of him as he continues. “The Hazbin hotel is truly a welcoming and proactive place for those looking for redemption. It is perfect for all that-” He goes to flip the page and looks at it with confusion. “Charlie, where's the second page?” He doesn’t even bother whispering. The girl looks over at his script and realizes that the missing page is nowhere in the stack.

“AH JUST STALL FOR TIME I’LL GO FIND IT. EVERYONE ELSE KEEP TALKING.” She rushes inside and frantically looks for the lost page, when she stops at the crackling of static coming from the study. “Oh no.”

She rushes to the room and sees a scene adjacent to the one she had discovered the last time she left Alastor and (Y/n) alone in the study. Tension hung heavy in contrast to the tranquil aesthetic of the room that Charlie had worked so hard to design, and she gasped at the sight of the human’s obviously broken hand. Alastor had a hand raised, but began to lower it once the princess stepped into the room.

“Alastor?! What the fuck did you do?!” She seethed, long, red horns emerging from her blonde locks as she prepared to defend the person she made the mistake of trusting Alastor with. The man cackled, frustrating her further due to his lack of seriousness. However, her expression shifted to one of utter shock when her eyes took in the smeared blood below his nose. 

“It wasn’t me that threw the first punch, darling.” He tilted his head and narrowed his glowing red eyes at the human. Charlie turned her head to (Y/n), who chewed their tongue in a combination of agony and nervousness.

“Yeah…I kinda punched him.” They mumbled through the pain of their hand. Charlie was thrown so off guard by this entire situation that she just continued staring, no words being able to make it past the tip of her tongue. (Y/n) noticed Charlie’s speechlessness and looked to the side as the awkward silence grew more noticeable, mustering up a few words of their own.

“Um, my bad I guess?”

Chapter Text

The question of if hell has hospitals remains a mystery to you. After Charlie examined your clearly broken hand, she handed you over to Vaggie to get it wrapped up and in a cast. Vaggie had apparently gained a lot of experience in medical knowledge due to what you could only assume was a past adjacent to that of a military veteran, but you couldn’t say for sure. Either way, Charlie stood by you the entire time your maimed appendage was being healed. She even “kissed” it better, and decorated your cast with glitter and hearts.

Alastor had attempted to pop in to allegedly “Check up on you”, but Vaggie kept her spear pointed in his direction each time. You knew the real reason he wanted to get a good look at you. Despite being slugged in the face, he didn’t seem that mad about it, more intrigued if anything. Your hand being horribly broken in the act only added to his sick fascination as he peeked his head into your room throughout the day, spilling ominous words coated in faux concern. He was barely even pretending at this point. 

“Come now dear, I’m sure I have some magic that could ease your pain~” The demon mused as he crept closer. You threw a pillow with your uninjured hand that he easily caught and tossed to the side. He basked into your displeasure, ears flicking mischievously as he strode closer to your bed. “(Y/n), I’m only here to help. Seems like you could use a hand!” He flicked your cast. “I truly don’t know what you expected to gain from punching me, but your pathetic attempt at actual harm was VERY interesting.” His smirk made it difficult to tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but you really didn’t think you’d survive another one-sided scrap with this guy.

“Hey I made your nose bleed, that's gotta count for something…HOE.” At that his eye twitched.

Damn he didn’t like that.

“VAGGIE! ALASTOR’S IN MY ROOM AGAIN COME BACK PLEASE-” Vaggie hustled through the door, spear in one hand, medicine in the other. Alastor dodges a warning stab, shadowing to the door.

“Shoo!” Vaggie shouts as she herds him out of the door. She slams the door and grumbles, before turning to you with a small smile. “Got you some more meds.” She pours two pills into your hand and then hands you some water.

“You’re the best Vaggie.” She nodded and mumbled a “welcome”.

Discerning Alastor’s check ins from deadly and playful were difficult, but at least they got less jarring as the weeks of your recovery moved on.

“Okay guys! It’s time for some new trust exercises!” Charlie announced, standing up from the breakfast table. “I’ve been waiting to pull out this idea, and now since (Y/n)’s hand is healed…” She pulls out a jar full of small folded papers. “Here we have the mAgiCaL partnering jar!” She twirled around and explained her plan. “What better to build trust than a fun activity! One of the partners will plan an outing or activity that they want to share with their friend! Isn’t that fun! And, it’s all random! How fun!” She places the jar on the coffee table and looks around at the group expectantly.

“Oh, I quite like thisssss activity! I can show my partner the exceptionally fun art of making weapons!” Sir Pentious announced. The snake demon had come along a few weeks ago, and despite having originally been a spy for the Vees, he turned out to be quite a nice demon who seemed genuinely interested in redemption, unlike Angel dust. That demon was busy making innuendos towards Husk.

“There’s a certain hobby that involves a looooot of trust that we could do kitty~” Angel dust purred into Husk’s ear, who shuddered with disgust and shoved him away. He turns to you, ears perking up a bit.

“Hey kid, maybe we could be partners, I’ll show ya how to bartend.” He offered, hooking a finger to his workstation. That actually sounded pretty cool, bartending did always look like an interesting job.

“I wanna mix drinks! I’m sure I could make a lovely concoction!” Niffty said, scuttling onto the couch and bouncing excitedly.

“GUYS,” Charlie shouted, “the partnering jar! It will decide who does this activity with who! Though I do love the enthusiasm in sharing your hobbies! You can all do those after this, but for now, go ahead and draw from the jar!” She held the jar out to Husk. He made an annoyed cat noise, before sticking a hand into the jar and plucking out a piece of paper. His ears twitched as he read it.

“Niffty.” He mumbled. Niffty on the other hand seemed rather excited. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to try the products of her experimental mixing, but you assumed whatever she would produce would be interesting. The jar was next passed to you. You shook it around a bit, before reaching in to grab a partner for yourself. When you pulled out the paper and read the neatly written words across it, you paused.

“Alastor?”

“̞̇͂͒͘͠Ỳ̪̠̤̼̦͖̀̌͆̕o̸̟̣͗̈́͘ù͏̱̐̐̚ ̴̛̲̙̌̐͌͒̀͆͒r͕̞̲̫͆͌͒͆̀͘ă̸̶̮͍̟̞͖̱͌̓͑ń̴̶͓̪̖̿̋̚͜ĝ̸̸͙͚͎̈́͑?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden presence of the man behind you. “FUCK ALASTOR WHY-”

“Language language~ why so noisy this early in the morning?” He went to pat you on the head with his cane, but you’d finally gotten used to the action and dodged. His eyes narrowed with an impish delight. He looked impressed. You on the other hand narrowed your eyes in annoyance.

“I demand a different partner.”  

“Damn that was quick.” Angel Dust laughed. “Aye, better you than me.” Charlie sputtered and waved her hands.

“Come on (Y/n)! You’re usually so willing to try out these things.” You pointed at your freshly healed hand and watched her attitude deflated ever so slightly.

“He broke my hand! And bothered me my whole recovery! I’m not over that! Fuck forgiveness.” You looked over at the snake demon giving you puppy dog eyes. “Except for bestie Pent BUT HE’S THE ONLY ACCEPTION!” Charlie looked at you with a set of her own puppy dog eyes, clasping her hands together and widening her glistening red eyes. You then looked back at Alastor, who only stood there idly, looking at his nails.

“Think of it this way (Y/n), this could be how Alastor makes up for what happened! I’m sure he wants to do that.” Charlie looks at Alastor with faulty hope. He shrugs and puts on a large smile.

“Most certainly! I want all of the residents to feel welcome by me!” Charlie squealed and brought you both into a hug. Alastor’s smile twitched, but he allowed it for the time.

“Yay! Alright, everyone else, draw your cards, and let's get to trusting!” She declared and had everyone else partner up. In the end, the groups were you and Alastor, Husk and Niffty, Angel and Sir Pentious, and Charlie and Vaggie.

“RIGGED!” You shouted when you saw that the couple had been paired together. “Whaaaaat? Who said that?”

“(Y/n), you obviously said that.” Vaggie grumbled and then looked over at Charlie. “So babe, what activity are we doing?” Everyone slowly began talking about who would organize the hangout. You turned over to Alastor who appeared to be minding his own business.

“I assume you’ve got something planned for me?” You asked. He smiled down at you and nodded, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Indeed! I’m pleasantly surprised with your readiness, for I think it best we start before it gets much darker.”

“Oh so it’s something outdoorsy?”

Now here you were, feet sinking into the soft, damp earth of the dim forest that surrounded you. You had thought Alastor would go easy on you this time, maybe another walk through the city, lunch in his bayou dimension, or even, at worst, a visit to that “Cannibal town” he’s mentioned. But a hunting trip…slightly unexpected.

“Alastor, I don’t think that this-”

“Do be silent, dear.” He said in a hushed voice. “You’ll scare off the game~” He mused, striding past you and beginning to walk through the trees. You tailed him cautiously. The forest was muggy, bordering a bog, with a soft ground that sank slightly with each step. Dark trees left little room for open movement in this new environment. They were packed tightly in some areas, and their roots ran above ground in a tangled mess of lumber, so unruly that you had to keep your eyes trained down to avoid tripping. Bugs hummed a melody in the background of you and the demon’s venture, the silent noise of nature would be considered tranquil if not for your company.

Speaking of your company, he always had an air of delight to him. Whether it was part of his trickster facade or his true temperament was a mystery, but right now, you could almost hear him purring with excitement. The closest stir of emotions in this manner that you had perceived from him had been when he was in his violent moods, tearing others apart limb from limb, or to your misfortune, picking on you. This, however, wasn’t out of his character. Hunting was another act of violence, which he obviously enjoyed.

“I presume this is your first time participating in a blood sport?”

“I- don’t think I’ve heard it called that before but if we’re calling it a “bloodsport” no I haven’t.”

“Oh (Y/n), don’t over complicate my words just because they’re above your simpleminded slang.” His quip was thought to be the end of the conversation.

You know what? If I’ve gotta wander the woods with a smart ass for a few hours might as well annoy him in the process. Take him down with me.

“Not my fault your slang is so dated.” You could've come up with something better, but that’s all you had at the moment. It gained no reaction from him, so you thought of something better. “Alastor, was radio the only form of entertainment you had? You know, “back in your day”, as the elderly say?” At that you saw his ears twitch. 

Huzzah! Maybe for once I’ll-

Your meager victory was short lived as you collided with Alastor. He had stopped walking. The murmur of his excited radio static cut and his head spun around fully to glare at you. Nervousness began to creep in, fearing that you’d set him off again with your pestering, but you watched him dismiss your clumsiness with a dramatic eye roll and tuts. He slithered behind you, red, glowing eyes looking past your shoulder. Whatever his intense gaze was fixed upon was important enough to make him forget an excuse to punish you for your earlier transgressions, and you were both relieved and cautious to also see whatever lay far in the mist. His hands found their way to your shoulders, slender, pointed fingers clenching firmly around the curves as he leaned in to whisper.

“My dear, can you tell me what the first rule of hunting is?” Like hell you knew the answer to that, but you could give him a generic answer.

“Treat every gun like it’s loaded?” He smirked and pinched your ear.

“Or so I’ve heard. But I’m quite the professional, and a loaded gun has a better chance of growing legs and running off before I would be injured.” He straightened his coat. “When hunting with me,” Static slowly grew back into earshot around the demon as he spoke with a frozen smile leaning closer to you, “the first rule of hunting is…” He stopped inches from your face.

“To have fun of course! Keep up your spirits even when you think you’re down on your luck with no buck in sight!”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at his dramatics, leaning away until he stepped back and let his neck crack back into place with a few nauseating pops. His smile took on a softer appearance as he continued. “But you are quite fragile, so I suppose you should be careful with this.” With a snap of his fingers, a long, hefty weapon was dropped into your hands. It was large enough to make you stumble from its sudden weight, and was made of polished wood and shining metal. One of your hands grasped the forearm, while you pinned the back part of it against your side with your free arm.

“WOW holy shit-this thing is gonna be impossible for me to shoot.” You heaved slightly, shifting the gun onto your hip. Alastor laughed and pushed the barrels with his cane to make it point away from him.

“Negativity is the enemy of creativity!”

“There’s nothing creative about shooting animals.”

“That’s what you’d think, but isn’t this what this activity is about? To share our passions with one another?” He narrowed his eyes at the thought of a good blood bath. You’re about to see just how creative we can be~”

Ah what perfect weather for hunting.

It was the sugar on the cream, as it were, to Alastar’s good luck streak this past month. A plaything dropped from up above, still fragile and fleshy, with an ostensibly angelic soul, who loved to test his boundaries; how truly and utterly promising. And here he was taking them out for an evening of one of his favorite activities.

His pace was quick with anticipation, and he was quite amused as the creature that accompanied him tried to keep up, stumbling over the thick roots of the trees surrounding them. He breathed in and out, senses scanning the surrounding atmosphere in an act of delight, as well as to locate the prey he planned to slaughter. He caught a hint of something-

Just a rabbit, far too small.

With a turn of his head he peered forward at a different scent.

Perhaps, ah, no. He thought, looking ahead silently at the doe off in the distance. He didn’t hunt female deer. Such graceful creatures were to be protected. He silently wished it a pleasant afternoon and continued sifting through the different notes flowing through his mind before he zeroed in on that of a male deer not far from where he and (Y/n) stood. 

He tread through the trees like water, leading them to the perfect spot where a shot could be made. At his sudden stop the human bumped into him. His gut reaction was to shoot a glare, which he did with the snap of his neck. They shrunk under his gaze, and if not for their objective, he would’ve put them in their place. But alas he was more focused on the buck not far from them.

He quickly summoned his pride and joy, his antique double barrelled shotgun. He’d had it almost since day one of being in hell, and kept it spick and span for every hunting expedition. It plopped into (Y/n)’s hands, making them wobble from its weight. He observed the smaller being with his oversized gun, chest teeming with satisfaction. He then slipped behind them once more and helped them steady their hands with the gun. They peered off in the distance at the approaching buck. It finally came close enough to where they could now both see it, not just him with his super human eyes.

“Not the most impressive I’ve seen, but he’ll make a good meal.” Alastor said, bringing his hands to theirs. They jumped at the contact, eyes glancing back at him uncomfortably. “Now go ahead, dear. Take a shot.” They looked shocked and hesitated, trying to hand the gun off to him but to no avail.

“If I miss it’s just gonna scare it off-” They started but he brought a finger to their lips. 

“What did I say about negativity, hm?” He looks forward at the buck and positions the gun closer to where (Y/n) could get a kill shot. If he were any other demon, maybe this position could be seen as intimate, but both parties knew that wasn’t the truth. He was guiding them like a puppet, nothing tender about his touch, just a pure desire for control. The “puppet” knew that too, just trying to keep their mind off his leering for long enough to not miss the clear shot they had on the deer. Finally, their finger pulled the trigger. A loud ‘ CRACK’ rang out as the bullet left the gun and sailed right into the deer’s leg. The animal let out a loud bleat, stumbling into a tree as blood soaked into its brown fur, before it clumsily ran off into the woods.

Brief pride flashed across (Y/n)’s face, before it faded into disappointment and pity as the deer ran away.

“I hit it but it was still alive…” They pouted, looking off at the open space in the forest. Alastor patted their head and moved in front of them.

“Ah, beginner's misfortune! Though I’ve never experienced it myself, that was hilarious to witness!” He looked off in the distance. “Ah, smile darling! I’ll fix your little mistake in a jiffy.” And like that he was gone, disappearing in the shadows. What’s bonding without a little teamwork? He’d go finish the job for you.

“Go hunting with him they said…it’ll be fun they said.” You grumbled to yourself as you wandered the woods in search of the demon that left you stranded. You both hadn’t even been out for two hours, but your feet were killing you and were in a random ass forest all alone. He also never took back his gun, so you were forced to lug it around as you searched. “I’m so done with this shit.” You shouted as he plopped the corpse of the deer you shot in front of you. “What…the freak.”

“Ah not to worry, it died a somewhat humane death. Now to let it bleed for later harvesting!”

“Alastor…where’s it’s head?”

“That’s also for later! A surprise that I’ve prepared for you.” You looked down at the lifeless body, still twitching.

“Alastor, can you be normal for like 5 seconds. Oh wait, normal is straight up not in your vocabulary.”

“I have been told I’m quite extraordinary~”

“Yeah, extraordinarily deranged! I was promised a NICE evening. And look where I am!” You gestured down at the dead deer spurting blood all over the ground. “MY ONLY PAIR OF SHOES ARE GETTING SOAKED IN DEER BLOOD.”

Alastor just watched while you ranted, eyes lax as he lazily watched you express your irritations. His expression had changed again…a small closed smirk across his lips.

“...What’re you thinking?” Your gaze connected with his and you felt that familiar shift in demeanor. His mood was as ever changing as the weather, going from sunny smiles to silent instability, the quiet before the storm.

“Nothing~...just that it’s my turn to go hunting. It wouldn’t be much fun if you were the only one that got to.” He says, laughing and shifting into his larger form. “I’ll give you a head start.”

“Oh my fucking GOD” You yelled but turned on your heel and started dodging through the trees. A quick glanced back showed a large Alastor crawling at you like something out of a horror game. “MAN YOU SUCK.” The terrain was difficult to get through, the unfamiliarity mixed with the soggy ground and tightly packed trees slowed you down significantly. If he wanted to, Alastor could snatch you up right now. But this was obviously for the chase.

So what if I stop running? You thought to yourself as you decided to take a shot in the dark. Almost literally. You steadied the gun in your hands as much as you could while running, and then whipped around, heels planted as you shot right between the demon’s eyes.

‘ Click ’

…It didn’t fire. It didn’t FUCKING.FIRE

“Well ain’t that a bitch.” You said as you lay against the tree you had stumbled into trying to shoot. The muzzle of the gun was pressed against the X on Alastor’s forehead as he loomed before you, surprised with the turn of events. His pupils were slits, trailing over you slowly, accessing his prey before he went in for the kill, before he burst out laughing. A cackling loud as thunder boomed around you both, scaring away nearby birds. He shrunk back to his normal size, still laughing as he caught his breath.

“Oh…ho… my dear, you are just a hoot. Such a despairing little thing.” He flicked your forehead and took his gun, sending it back to the pocket dimension from which it came. “A shorter chase than I usually prefer, but it was an entertaining finish! This activity was quite a success wouldn’t you say?”

“I think you got a much bigger kick out of this than I did.” You huff. You were sweaty, tired, and had ruined shoes. “Is this what being friends is like with you because this can’t be healthy.”

“Well, you are in hell, my dear. And I am the Radio Demon.” He said with a bow. You were still a bit grumpy, but cracked a smile. In a twisted way, this was pretty fun, but you didn’t think admitting that to the deranged demon in front of you would be in your best interest. After all, he might take you hunting for actual people if you did. He looked up at you, extending his hand that wasn’t covered in blood.

“Pffft, how thoughtful.” You said. “Are we going now?” You grasped his hand.

“Indeed! It’s only three quarters til noon, so we have time to turn this lovely bounty into lunch!” 

“Sounds like a good idea Al.” And with that, you were both teleported back to the hotel.

Chapter Text

You and Alastor returned to the hotel swiftly through his handy power of teleportation. Damn you wish it was a convenience you had back on Earth. You appeared in the kitchen, still clutching his hand before he dug his nails into the back of yours to signal a release. You squeaked and obliged, pulling away and looking at your slightly pricked hand. A complaint bubbled in your throat, but died as he summoned the entire dead deer upon the island. It wasn’t bleeding as much, and appeared to somehow be chilled, ready for prepping.

“I’ll be the one handling the meat.” He chirped, grabbing some knives and immediately getting to work on skinning the carcass. His movements were precise and practiced. He dug the knife into the skin, carving away the fuzzy pelt of the animal and separating it from the meat he so desired for his meal.

“What are we making exactly?” You asked, coming up to the counter. You went to poke at the animal, but a tentacle slapped your hand.

“It’s of poor taste to play with your food dear~” He tutted, “I was thinking of a rich venison stew. Charlie picked up some fresh vegetables from the market today and we could put those to use.” You noticed he had skinned the entire body, a singular piece cleanly cut away and poofed into a shadowy abyss after he’d concluded his task. He looked at the hairless, white body, before turning to you. “Whilst I deal with the innards, you can chop a few potatoes and carrots.” 

“Alright, but Alastor I’m tracking blood in the kitchen.” He looks down at your shoes, soaked with a mixture of mud and deer blood. “I tried telling you before we came in here but…you know.”

“Ah, yes right.” He snaps and your feet are enveloped with shadows. They felt cold, almost wet as they slithered up your feet. You instinctively tried to step back, but were almost stuck in the thick, clammy substance. “EW EW EW WHAT THE HELL.” You hopped out of it when it released you, revealing your bare, clean feet. Alastor snickered at your disgust and shoved a clawed hand through a slit on the deer’s stomach.

“Oh the dramatics. Your human psyche is so sensitive~ Now hurry up and get to chopping.” Static crackled subtly under his words, hinting at impatience. You rolled your eyes and went to the fridge to get the vegetables.

Damn big and greedy, you’re ready to eat.

You take out potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery, placing them by the sink to wash them. After that you dry them and bring them to the cutting board Alastor set out.

“This is actually more my speed. We could’ve just bought the damn meat and been doing this the entire time.” You fetch a knife and begin chopping the carrots.

“Now dear, you know there’s no fun in that.” He put his hands on either side of the ribs, pushing them apart with a crack to easier disembowel the caress . “I saw that little heart of yours pumping with excitement. It was a rush, even for you.” 

He was right. A part of you did enjoy that odd little rush of the kill, of having succeeded in something you didn’t have much practice in. Still…

You wiggled your toes, bare against the cold kitchen floor. That was your only pair of shoes.

Raw dogging the ground it is.

The room filled with sounds of chopping and gorey squelching as you both worked individually on your tasks. The scene was one of great juxtaposition. You, a small human in a slightly oversized kitchen, calmly chopping vegetables, and a blood covered, monstrous demon removing the intestines from a buck he had decapitated. The movie esk picture didn’t last for long though. You had barely finished the first carrot when you noticed Alastor’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Your technique is appalling.”

“You told me to chop it…that’s all I’m doing.”

“Tch tch, (Y/n), must you always be so uncouth?” He scolded. He turned back to his own work, grabbing the small intestine of the deer and feeding it into his mouth, slurping the organ down like large, bloody spaghetti. 

“You call me uncouth and then you eat an organ. Alastor, you can’t be for real.”

“I am incredibly real. Chop my vegetables properly, or get out of my kitchen.” The finality in his voice drew a scoff from your lips. You slowed your hand, steadying the knife to try and cut cleaner. This time, you only made it halfway through the carrot before his gaze made you stop.

“Alastor, the side eye isn’t necessary.”

“Hm…Actually, I think it is.” You did the honors of putting down the knife and walking away, hands in the air. He hummed with contempt and moved where you previously stood, chopping the vegetables with impressive efficiency. “All in the wrist, my dear.” He could teach you rather than just taking over, but that seemed far from his agenda. You resigned and sat up on the counter across from where he was, watching him work. 

“Got something I can play music on?” You pointed at his radio staff. He glanced at it and to your surprise nodded.

“I suppose so, yes.” You smiled and reached over to where he had set the object. Your hand glided along the smooth backing.

I don’t know why I thought this would have a dial to turn on the back…oh wait I think I’ve got it.

Second nature took control of your movements. You didn’t question the knowing feeling you felt as your hand tingled over the small radio. You felt a click from within it, before it started playing Taylor Swift’s “Wildest dreams”. You giggled to yourself.

“An oldie but a goodie. You know Al, I’m surprised that this thing has motion sensors. How do I change the station though?” You kept moving your hand over it, blindly trying to swipe around and control it. You missed the brief pause of utter shock across Alastor’s face before he abandoned his food and came to you snatching his cane from you. The music cuts as soon as it slips from your fingertips, and you pout. “Hey!”

He looked at his cane with narrowed eyes, then back at you.

“Interesting…” He placed his hand on the radio and soft jazz began to play. He propped it up against the counter and resumed his task.

Omg I just did something magical and he’s trying to keep it to himself.

“Not today Satan.” You lunge forward to take back the staff. You’re not even within arms reach when the eye in the center of the radio becomes life-like, widening and glowing with extraterrestrial power.

“Nevermind then.” You mumble to yourself. Alastor’s lips quirk into a smirk, but he stays silent and continues working.

 You mindlessly wander the kitchen, circling the island a few times, feet hitting the tiles like in a game of hopscotch. You pounced from tile to tile in an unsteady rhythm to the sound of Alastor’s chopping, when suddenly your background music came to a halt. You up at the demon who looked a bit like an exasperated housewife. You stifled a laugh when you noticed he suddenly had an apron on.

“Wait what does that say…” You walked around the island to get a full view of his apron. “Get out of my kitchen.” You read aloud. “Wait, is that targeted?”

“Dear, if you’re going to be in my kitchen, you can at least help out.”

“I tried and you made me stop!”

“Ah yes I suppose so.” He laughed to himself. “How about you do something more simplistict?” He summoned some of his little shadow demons, who began collecting things from the pantry. They brought out some flour, yeast, measuring cups, and a large bowl. “You can make the bread. We knead some rolls to go with the stew~”

“Ohhhh yeah I can do that!” Breads are always fun to make, and it’s something easy to do. One of the smaller shadow helpers approached you with a small piece of paper. “The recipe! Thanks little dude.” You almost pet the thing on the head, but restrained and settled for a little wave. It returned the gesture and skittered off back into Alastor’s little portal.

“Just a moment.” He prompted as you approached your station. You were blanketed in a thin layer of his shadows, and when they dissipated, you wore an apron of your own. It was a simple red with no trim that stopped just above your knees. You admired your semi-professional look and got to making the bread. Unfortunately, most other joys in that kitchen, it didn’t last long.

“Oh toots, what’re ya doin’ out here? Thought you and creepy face were doing your quality time activity in the kitchen.” Angel looked up and down at your disheveled appearance.

“Well he actually took me hunting first and then we started cooking lunch, and it was all going pretty well until he made me start making the bread and…” You grimaced at the memory.

Was it your fault? Yes completely. 

Should you have been trying to grab his staff to play more music? Apparently not with the bread dough in your hands. 

Because when you went to “sneakily” snag it again and lost your footing after slamming into the counter, the dough flew out of your hands and hurtled towards the ground. It would have made contact if it weren’t for Alastor’s handy little tentacle shooting up from the ground and saving it.

“HA! He totally woulda maimed you.” Angel cackled. “Wanna see something cool though? It’s something Sir Pentious helped me build.” He raised up a squishy pig figure. He then turned it towards the ceiling and pressed its tummy, causing its jaw to open and a big burst of fire to release. 

“Awwww piggy lighter! Or…blowtorch?”

“Eh, its dual purpose.” He shoved the pig in his pocket. Sir Pentious sat on the floor with his egg boiz, beaming proudly. 

“I thought that Angel Dust would be a losssssssst cause when it came to building a weapon of massssss destruction, but he’s gotten quite the start!”

“Hehe, well he had you as a teacher, Pent.” You praised, causing the snake to flash a fangy smile.

“You hear that, eggies? I’m a good teacher!” He cooed.

Holy shit how is someone so adorbs in hell.

“So where’s everyone else? Are they gonna be back by the time lunch is ready?” With comedic timing, you heard the breaking of glass come from the bar.

“NIFFTY, YA CAN’T PUT POISON IN A GODDAMN DRINK. GIVE THAT BACK.” Husk yowled, chasing the woman around. He clumsily stumbled around the bar, a flurry of feathers flying as he flapped his wings to lunge at the smaller demon.

“Hehehe, I call this, ‘Death of a thousand sailors!’” She giggled, running over to where you sat, holding up to you. “(Y/n)! Try it! It’s my first drink!” 

“Oh…no thanks Niffty. How about you make me a um…non poisonous one? I’ll definitely try that.” She nodded and scurried off to the bar again. Husk stumbled over, drained, and surprisingly no booze in hand.

“I wouldn’t try anything she makes. She’s almost burned that bar down four times. We’re not even cooking, it’s a fucking bar! How does that happen?” He flopped on the couch next to you. “And she used the last of my favorite whiskey…” You laughed, making his ears droop more as he looked up at you with a half hearted glare. “Ya done makin’ dinner? Angel said you and Alastor were doing it as your bonding time”

“Number one, it’s 1pm, so it’s lunch. And two, FOR THE LAST TIME, I was, then I almost fucked up, and he banished me in a not very nice way.”

“Heh, thought you were fearless for hanging out with that guy, but you ran away~” He teased, flicking his tail in your face. 

“Yo I saw my life flash before my eyes when I almost dropped that bread on the ground, I wasn’t about to test my luck anymore.”

“Hmph, ‘course.”

“Don’t worry, if I was a demon like you I’d sooooo stand up to him. Unlike you, I’m not a pussy. ” You smiled. “You get it? Because you’re a cat and like-

“Yes kid I get your lame pun.” He said despite the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Damn. Puns huh? Next you’ll pick up cannibalism from the guy.”

“Eh might as well now that I’m in hell.”

“If I knew you were so open to the idea I could’ve taken you to cannibal town for the activity!” The cheerful voice of the radio demon suddenly graced your ears. Husk’s fur puffed with surprise and glared behind him.

“Why such a sour puss dear Husker? Feeling hangry?” Alastor took off his apron and folded it neatly. “Well never fear, for lunch is ready!” He gestured towards the kitchen. “I’ve prepared a venison stew, with honey glazed rolls!” He glanced over at you. “Of course I can’t take all the credit. (Y/n) mildly injured the deer that I killed for the stew, and chopped up a singular carrot with subpar skill! Oh and they made the dough for the rolls that they also almost destroyed with their stupidity!” 

How does someone make something so backhanded sound so jovial?

“Well I’m sure (Y/n) did great!” You turned to see Charlie had also entered, Vaggie in tow holding a few restaurant bags.

“Charlie, you're back in time!” She matched your energy and squealed, running over to hug you. “It looks like my activity worked! I think everyone had fun with their partners!” You paused and looked where the fourth wall would be (at us, the actual reader I guess, everyone share a look with your vessel!). Then you thought about it. Alastor…wasn’t bad company. And despite him chasing you in the forest and threatening to end your life over bread, he was hella funny.

And weird.

And crazy. But that was…interesting. A good kind almost.

“Yeah…yeah I think we did.” You could’ve sworn that you saw an almost genuine smile spread across Alastor’s lips. On second thought, nah. Not a chance in hell.

“The stew is getting cold!” Alastor reinstated passive aggressively. The group mumbled in agreement and slight excitement as they began walking towards the kitchen. Niffty grabbed your hand before you could migrate into the kitchen. She held up a sparkly red drink that glimmered with black specks.

“Drink! Drink!” She prompted. You grasped the cup, accessing it before shrugging.

“Eh it’s probably fine. Bottoms up.” Just as the rim was about to touch your lips, Alastor grabbed the glass and threw it out an open window.

“Not fine at all actually. Niffty, next time you load a drink with nightshade, please don’t try to serve it to our human. Charlie wants them alive, remember?” He patted her on the head and led her off to the kitchen, but not before giving you a small wink over his shoulder.

Due to all the crazy things that you’ve experienced over the past few weeks, you weren’t as shocked as you could’ve been. But still, you couldn’t quite get used to the daily danger.

“Wow, you and Alastor must have really bonded!” Charlie cheered. “I would have expected him to let you drink that but nope! He was looking out for you!”

“Feels like common decency.”

“Not for Alastor.” Vaggie mumbled. “Probably wants something from you.”

“Oh Vaggie, come on! Think positively! Maybe they’ve become friends!”

“Charlie, he’s the Radio Demon.”

“I mean I could ask him.” You butted in. “Or not…I don’t know. I think we get along? That’s pretty good for such a gruesome overlord right?”

Vaggie contemplated your words but nodded. “Yeah, don’t count on it though.”

“THE STEW ISN’T GETTING ANY COLDER DEARIES!” 

“ALASTOR CHILL OUT WE ARE COMING SHIT IT’S LIKE-” He peaked his head out of the kitchen and gave you a smile that was far too wide, with eyes that said “don’t fuck with me rn”.

“My bad man…my bad.”

“I guess I should just give the bowl I made for you to someone else.”

“AYE AYE NO NO LET ME HAVE MY FOOD-”

“Ah, that’s what I thought~”

Charlie and Vaggie watched as you ran off into the kitchen, before looking at each other. Charlie smiled at her girlfriend.

“I think this is Alastor’s first true friend!” She squealed. Vaggie smiled softly, patting the princess’s shoulder. She didn’t have much faith in the prospect, but Charlie looked so excited.

“I guess it could be possible. But the Radio Demon himself? Having something like an actual friend? A tad far fetched.” Vaggie started towards the kitchen. “We can hope though.”

Chapter Text

Another day, another slay.

Actually, another day, another void to float in whilst you sleep.

Scratch that one too. It was no longer a void. Everytime you dreamed, you were placed into an inky, black sea of nothingness. Though, despite the nearly maddening repetition, you began to make out the dark space around you. Things became clearer.

You used to float, but your feet had slowly come to rest upon a soft bed of grass that you could just barely make out. Over the span of many dreams, fireflies began to collect and gather around the small spot in which you usually resided. They provided a small light to the dark space, fluttering around your face with what you could only feel was affection.

You laid back in the shadowy grass around you watching as the soft, white glow of fireflies danced around you. You reached up towards them, fingers trying to catch one gently, but they dodged the attempts, in an almost playful manner. 

All was calm, all was serine.

You had grown thankful for the verbose tranquility that sleep now provided you. The waking world was filled with dangers, but here, in your own little happy place, nothing could hurt you.

Until this time.

This time, whilst you relaxed, playing with the tiny insects that surrounded you, you felt a small itch upon your wrist.

Weird.

You gave it a scratch, fingers digging into your skin as the itch slowly worsened. The awful crawling within your skin slowly lit to burn, noises of pain escaping your mouth as you clutched your wrist. The clarity that you had so carefully built in your dream world began to haze and blur as your body was subjected to the stress of sudden, progressing pain. The fireflies were the only things not fading to black in the picture that had painted itself in your mind. They buzzed around you, surrounding your wrist, avoiding your rapidly moving hand as if to try and comfort you. 

It felt like your skin was burning off. Your brain could no longer process the severe pain that was engraving itself onto your skin. Was this the hell fire and brimstone that was spoken of on earth? Were you finally experiencing it? It hurt so bad. You couldn’t make it stop. You couldn’t scream.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKFUCKFUCK

You were awake, and screaming.

You clutched your wrist, tears streaming down your face as the burning finally began to subside. Your eyes widened as you observed the silver metal digging into your skin. Through the wall of blurry tears, you finally made out the charm bracelet, now laced with a green glow.

“W-what…o-ow…Alastor..?” You panted to yourself through the searing pain. A cluster of shadows appeared next to your bed, the demon himself forming in front of you.

“Yes my-” His bright smile remained, but his eyes showed one of rare surprise as he surveyed the scene in front of him, widening at the image of you clutching your wrist. After the brief moment of pause he snapped and the bracelet fell off.

You nearly cried out with relief as the pain was completely relinquished, and looked up at the demon in front of you, tears still brimming your eyes. His face was unreadable, other than the surprise that you could make out. Whether the surprise was concerned or amused, you couldn’t tell, but you could usually assume the latter when it came to Alastor.

“I would thank you but…you gave me that bracelet…why…fuck-” You reeled, still trying to get over the pain you were feeling moments before. “I…it was glowing?”

Alastor tilted his head.

Okay this is starting to piss me off.

“Alastor, what happened to being friends. Friends do things like, you know, explain why a ‘gift’ just tried burning off the other person’s skin??”

He continued the stare, face frozen and gaze unblinking, before moving theatrically towards you.

“Why, your guess is as good as mine.” He let out a huff of contentment, rolling his eyes to search his memory. “Mayhaps this is karma for when you burned my skin off! An eye for an eye is always a fair trade~” 

This FUCKING GUY-  You felt your eye twitch. He was seriously unbelievable.

Much to your displeasure, he took your hand and looked down at your wrist, which was surprisingly, utterly unharmed. “Though I’m no doctor, you’re perfectly unscathed. Therefore, I do hope you’ll keep wearing it dear.” That statement made your tears disappear.

“Alastor…Fuck. No.” 

“Naughty words are not necessary. It’s rude to toss away a gift.”

“Not from the devil, it's not.” His grin widened into a sinister curve, not a hint of annoyance in the dark amusement flickering in his eyes. Your defiance was taken with a spoon of salt, the confidence of an Overlord radiating with conviction from the demon in front of you.

“Well, my dear, how very unfortunate. But,” With a whirl of his finger, the bracelet was back on your wrist. “I’d prefer if you ̴̰̙̠̇͘ǩ̛̹͇̤͒̍́͡e̷̖͑͊̓̏̿̕p̴̨͚͖͊͌̏̏͛t̢̝̝̍̓̎͘͟͝ͅ ̸͕̤̥̻̦̰̜̆͑̇m̯̤̻̅̈̈̅̔͠͏͔y͙̗̤̘͕̝͓̤͆͘͝͞ ̷̛͈̻͓̔͐̃͐ǧ̠͕̘̦̿ͅr͚̮̱̀̎̒̆͜á̷̡̬̲̜̥̲č̸̨̡̨̢̭̜̔̈́̀̉i̧͎̼̖͂͂̉̐̽̉̕ͅò̦͇̹͈̔͐͘u̶̗̲͑̀̾s͈͈͔͔̺̈̏̉̇̽ͅ ̷̹̗͈̩̪̪̂̀̚͜g̵͓̯͈͕̫̬͑̚ḭ̴̿͗̅̉̅f̨͎͉͉̊͋͒͒͊̍͘͠t͓̯͌͌͏̶̌ ̢̰͚͚̗͓̯̻̀́̏͂o̧̧̤̤̥̳͗̃n̨͇̊̇̽̈̇.̭̩́̓̓͐͝”̶̫̼̣̝̺̇͝  You put a hand up to stop his scare tactic. It was getting a bit old.

“FINE! It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it anyways.” You paused, thinking to yourself. Maybe there was a way to get this borderline handcuff off. There were all types of magic in hell, so possibly there would be one strong enough to get it to unlock.

“Don’t go getting any c͖̝̥̀̾̕R͕̝̊̀͒͆͌ã̸͍̱́͑̚A̛̫̮̲͛́̊a͇̥̫̠͇͗̄̐̕͢À̖̪͓̇̆Z̵̢̝͔͈̜̘͑̄ÿ̴̟̗̲̱͕̣͋̄̐ ideas darling,” His head spun around, before stopping right where his eyes could lock on yours, “or I might turn that bracelet into a collar and leash.” He then spun around and walked out the door. You would’ve flushed a bit at the context of that, but your body could only grimace at the thought of him tugging you around like a little doll. You shook your head to clear the disturbing thoughts, before quitting the room in search of breakfast.

“This is just like the fucking hunting trip, you try and be chill with the deer demon and you still get the antlers…hooves…nah it would be antlers.” You mumbled to yourself on the way to the dining room. You catch white against the red walls out of the corner of your eye, and realize Angel Dust is leaning against it, Fat Nuggets in his arms. 

“Wow, so you and freaky face really are friends.” You perked up at him starting a conversation with you after what felt like forever.

“Friends is a strong word…he just forced me to keep on this charm bracelet.” The spider snorted, pushing off the wall and setting down his pig.

“That? That’s all he’s got on you? Trust me toots you should be grateful that’s the only thing he’s managed to do to you while you’re down here.” He began moving towards the dining room himself, causing you and Fat Nuggets to scurry along to keep up with his long legged strut. “When the hell are you getting out of here? In my opinion, I’m the only one who should be here out of the kindness of Charlie’s heart.” He smirked. “Well, Nuggs too of course.” You frowned slightly at his comment.

“I’ve been earning my keep. I’m not just laying around.” You huffed.

“You never bring me drugs when I ask, even though ya owe me.” He squinted accusingly.

“You can’t keep blaming the employee! Blame management! Be a Karen!” You earned an eye roll, and watched as he sat at the far end of the table, right next to Husk. Angel Dust tried to steal a pancake off his plate, but Husk hissed as a warning, which made Angel stand back up to grab his own plate.

“What happened to not eating before a shoot?” Husk grumbled, looking up from his food to give you a brief wave over, inviting you to sit next to him. You nodded and went to get your own plate of food in order to claim the spot.

“Aha! Ya see, I don't gots a shoot today.” Angel muses as he struts back out of the kitchen, balancing a plate of bacon and eggs. “So uppsie daisies kitty! I’m ready to start drinking!” With that he starts to head towards the bar. Husk groans, all but slamming his fork down, about to growl a response to the command when Charlie bursts through the door, still in her silk red pjs.

“DID I HEAR ANGEL HAS A DAY OFF?!?!?!” She exclaimed, eyes zeroed in on the demon in question. Everyone was startled by the sudden entrance, Angel most of all, who had nearly dropped his plate of food. 

“Yeah…what’s it to you?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his Italian accent peaking through.

“What’s it to you-” you mimic quietly.

“Oh my satan! I’ve been waiting for this!” She runs over to a comically sized calendar that you don’t remember being on a wall and tears off a page. “ SCHEDULE CLEARED! ALRIGHTY we’ve got lots to do with very little time!” With a big breath in she pointed at Angel Dust, exclaiming that it was his enrichment time.

“Enrichment? What am I a fuckin’ zoo animal?”

“No no, buuuuut you could really use some relaxation time! We all know how stressed you are, and some time out would do you good! And,” She draws out the word, turning to you with starry eyes, “ you can bond with our resident human/room attendant! Making friends is always good!”

“Why can’t I just go on my own?” He scoffs, turning his head.

Charlie’s enthusiasm faltered at his sourness, smile waning, but returning with a gentleness that would be more encouraging than pushy.

“Come on Angel, I think it’s a good idea. I won’t make you if you really don’t want to,” she searches for the right words, cringing slightly as she fumbles through the negotiation, “and I know you’d probably prefer something along the lines of partying or drugs with Cherri, however, I think a big part of redemption is not being so…so judgy and stubborn.”

You half expected for Angel Dust to let out a scoff and something along the lines of “who gives a fuck about redemption”, but to your surprise, he sighed, folded his top set of arms, and reached one of his free hands out for the debit card.

“Free clothes are free clothes…”

“Yay!” She gleefully hands him the golden credit card, which he quickly shoves into the pocket of his fluffy coat. “I promise, you’ll have the bestest time!” She turned to you, “Right (Y/n)?”

Most sinners in hell were there to repent for their sins. They were forced into this dystopian realm with nowhere to go, no idea what to do, and nothing but destruction and pain around them. Not a moment's rest was rewarded, weary heads were cut off for attempting to seek materialistic comfort, for what seemed to be even the thought of it. They lived lives so incredibly gruesome, unfortunate, miserable, tortuous, harrowing…you get the point. Their lives were shit.

However, that fact was proven false in the case of the one and only Radio Demon.

He sat in his radio tower, humming a jazzy melody, which blended beautifully with the sound of his broadcast playing softly, a sweet undertone to his vocalizations. Black coffee steamed next to the demon, a stark contrast to the red cup, encompassing the liquid. Alastor’s slender fingers wrapped around the handle, and he took a sip of the scalding drink without a flinch, letting out a sound of relief for his vocal cords, before he straightened up his script, and brought his microphone up to his lips.

“Salutations dear listeners! My, what a monotonous week we’ve had! A lack of screams is truly unfortunate, but I trust I’ll find some new ones soon!” A laugh track played of its own volition. He let out his own chuckle before continuing . “Now, why don’t we get right into the show!” Some clicks were heard around the small space, knobs turning to adjust the quality and frequencies of his radio show. After another languid sip of coffee, he spoke into his mic.

“This fine morning, I have a few of my favorite jazzy selections from artists including Louis Armstrong, Frank Sinatra , and more for your auditory pleasures! Later on, we’ll mix up the station with some classic zydeco songs, a little self indulgent taste of home for yours truly~ Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself, let us enjoy a classic, for who doesn’t love, ‘Fly me to the moon,’ by Mr. Sinatra?” With that, a button was pressed, and the smooth song began, playing softly over the radios of hell.

Now that the song was set, he muted himself, and relaxed ever so slightly in his chair. His hand drew a line across the dusty desk, picking up the grime after years of neglect. He would have his little room attendant come to clean up his space, but it was a great possibility that they would just ruin things, violate the sanctity of his sanctuary. Weeds and cattails peaked through the wooden floorboards, and vines crawled along the walls, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The muggy air was of no inconvenience to his adapted lungs, it was fresher than the blood being spilled on the streets as he relaxed in his personal abode. He didn’t need it to change.

His mind was drifting to the person he considered for a split, insignificant moment. Though the thought of them cleaning his radio tower was still utterly abominable in his mind, curiosity as to where you resided scratched at the walls of his brain.

An easy query to satiate

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the specific thought of you. He searched through the vast magicks that floated around in his existing realm, and found the pulsing of his tether. The gift he had bestowed upon the human without their knowledge of its true purpose.

The silver charm bracelet. Before he began concentrating on the familiarity of his magic, he remembered the events of that morning. Though he couldn’t see himself releasing the advantage of knowing where they are at all times, he contemplated ways to prevent the same, seemingly random harm from being caused a second time. He’d have to be more…gentle, perhaps. Within it flowed magic that he imbued, one that allowed him to see your location, as well as the immediate things around you. His ears twitched as he listened in on your failing conversation with Angel Dust, and he can faintly smell a mix of your scent and the freshly fallen moisture that clings to the air around you.

“It rains in hell? Just, regular rain?” Silly thing, of course it does.

“Pffft whaddya think, smartass?” Ugh, that damn effeminate spider just had to speak. Alastor subconsciously leaned forward slightly, trying to focus in on the conversation. The lack of another conversation starter from your part bored him, and he was about to open his eyes when he began to see the bright lights of the entertainment district coming into view around you.

Why must you go back there? Stupid human, don’t you remember the last mishap? His smirk twitched with annoyance as he focused on the little fox demon mask you wore, that only covered half of your face. He then opened his eyes, coming back to himself, though the tugging of the tether he placed almost tugged his thoughts back to you. It was an easy dismissal for the demon though. That’s not my pigeon . He thought as he prepared for the next song to play on his station.

“It rains in hell? Just, regular rain?” You asked Angel Dust as you walked along the freshly doused sidewalk. His heels clicked with each lengthy stride, dodging the puddles with ease.

“Pffft whaddya think, smartass?” He retorted. You quickly lost hope in any sort of good conversation.

Charlie wants us to bond…

You wanted to, despite the- or well, what you hoped was a persona, he couldn’t be all that bad. He was the first person you considered a friend in this hell hole. He saved you. And now here you are, tense silence during a forced hangout session with the person you probably owe more than you could imagine.

Ugh…bringing it up is gonna be so awkward. You bit the inside of your cheek as you contemplated. I’ll just do it casually. Easy does it (Y/n)...nice and smooth.

“So do you hate me or like…?” The words were blurted out of your mouth before you could fully prepare for what impact the answer might bring.

Okay, not as smooth as it could’ve been but at least it’s out there.

“Wha- the fuck? Where did that come from?” Angel Dust sputtered, looking down at you. He didn’t seem peeved anymore, and you can see a hint of guilt in his eyes. “I- just…the hell do you want me to say, no? I guess?” You blinked up at him.

“I just wanna know how you feel. About me, specifically. If you hate me or not, because you sure act like it.” That earns a scoff.

“I do not.”

“Debatable.” You say as gently as possible. You sigh and move your hands around, trying to find the words. “It’s like, you were really nice, and then I went through your room, which wasn’t cool, but like, I don’t know how to fix it.” Angel then stopped walking, as did you. He grabbed your shoulders, and brought his face near yours.

“Ima ask you a question toots. Think about it real good before you answer. Do ya honestly care?”

Huh?

“Care if you hate me or not? Yeah who wouldn’t?” Another scoff came from the man.

“Look, I know you’ve only been here for like a month, but that should be enough time for you to realize that ya can’t try to be friends with everyone. If anything, you should be thankful for some tough love. Jesus Christ, this is hell, don’t be so soft.” His hands pushed off you with enough force to make you stumble, but not fall. 

“I’m NOT trying to be friends with everyone,” You lunged forward and his wrist to yank him back, and down to your level, “I’m trying to be friends with YOU. And if you don’t wanna be friends with me that’s fine, but you don’t have to be an asshole to ‘teach me a lesson’. This isn’t some weird thing where you’re gonna push me away and I’m gonna be better off, because I bet you I won’t.” You took a beat to compose yourself. “Just…talk to me, please? If not for me, then for Charlie. She was really excited about you getting a day off and stuff. I want you to have fun.”

As you gazed into bicolored eyes, they had taken on a shape of softness, rather than the rigid vexation they had held just moments prior. There was a whirlwind of nervousness and annoyance raging in your chest from the confrontation, but also, a small, tiny flicker of hope that you had reached him.

He didn’t tug from your grasp, and rather put a hand on your shoulder, a small signal to let go, before he huffed and replied, eyes wandering to a distant nothingness to keep from looking directly at you.

“No, I don't hate you. I was just a little pissed over you trying to get my drugs, and looking through my room.” Your shoulders dropped as the tense weight that had wound them up dissipated.

“I’m sorry-”

“I know toots I know,” his annoyance was laced with mercy, another signal that you might have finally done right by this misunderstood demon. “I…forgive you.” A smile breaks out across your face almost immediately, and you open your arms up for a hug. Angel Dust pauses, though only for a second, before mumbling out that you’re a ‘weirdo’, and giving you a quick hug. “Damn, maybe I should do this ‘making up’ thing more often, it’d save me a lot of killin’.”

“Uh- was that your plan with me? To pull out the glock?”

“Eh, nah, but maybe that’s cuz you’re so defenseless.” He snickered. “I mean, I don’t gotta worry about ya trying to follow me home after a shoot because I had a disagreement over who the best porn writer is.”

“That happen often?” He shrugs and lightly nudges your shoulder to continue walking.

“Often enough, see, like this one time…” And so began a long winded rant about the creepos he has to deal with in the industry. You fell into a comfortable rhythm with Angel’s walk as he slowed his steps to accommodate your shorter legs, and the bustling chaos of hell fell into the background of your conversation. The only thing that filtered through was a distant sound of jazz, playing through some distant radio, only adding to the unlikely peace.

Unfortunately, due to the blissfully ignorant bubble of conversation you and your companion had formed, you miss the spark of blue electricity that follows along the miscellaneous screens of the entertainment district, zapping along like a shadow in a hurried pursuit.

Chapter Text

Clothes flew left and right as Angel Dust dressed you up, and dressed you down.

“Quick changes are easy babes~” he’d say each time that you asked if you could get a chance to look at the clothes for yourself.

“This is just a little fAST-”, you tried to protest to the next outfit, but Angel was already using his many arms to unzip, and then zip you back up.

Though each outfit was only on you for about .2 seconds, you loved almost each one that was thrown onto you. Angel had found a good mix of summer clothes, winter clothes, long sleeve, short sleeve, pajama’s lingerie-

Wait…lingerie???

“ANGEL!” You say gaping at the skimpy, red baby doll dress. “THIS IS- well frankly hot as fuck- BUT I CAN’T KEEP THIS AT THE HOTEL!” You shove the lingerie into your shopping bag to hide the lewd outfit. “Where am I supposed to put this??”

“Um, ya closet? Duh…” You roll your eyes at the response, though you felt a bit embarrassed by your dumb response. You huffed, reaching into the bag to feel the material of the lingerie again.

God this shit feels designer…it's so soft…

You fail to suppress a giddy smirk as you look up at your fashionista friend.

“...OKAY LET’S GET IT!” You both laugh and squeal like teenagers shopping for the first time. Angel Dust goes on and on about how good you’re gonna be looking with a proper wardrobe as he scoops up the bags with his various arms, using the last to link with yours and pull you over to the register. Angel Dust glances at the checkout line, then the bags of clothes in his hands, then back at you.

“Damn, this shit is gonna take foreverrrr.” He takes out his phone to start scrolling on Sinstagram, but he pauses. “You know what toots,” he peeks out the window of the store, seeing the Voxtech store across the street, “how about ya go getcha self another little present. Charlie did say you should try and get a phone for easy contact, so go over there.” You turn and look out the window at the building he’s referencing.

It’s a rectangular, glass architecture that encompasses what you can just make out to be hundreds of electronics graciously spaced out on their own private pedestals. Surrounding the building, electric blue lights dance on the pavement, reacting to each step that cascades across its surface in a dramatic flourish. It’s a screenager’s DREAM.

“I do really wanna…but what if I get jumped again? Demons are VERY aware I’m human now, and I don’t feel particularly safe without my professional twink- I mean body guard.” He smacks your back for that, but laughs and shrugs.

“Babes, you’ll be fine. I’m right across the street, just holla if somethin’ real bad is happening. Plus, I don’t think many demons will wanna mess with you now that they know you’re under Charlie’s protection. And when you think about it, Alastor’s as well.” You roll your eyes at the last part.

“Please, I NEED protection from Alastor.” With that, you scoot out of the line and exit the store.

As you begin on your quest for a phone, you notice that you can now barely hear the radio off in the distance. You wondered if video killed the radio star in this district, because for once you could barely feel the leering presence of the radio demon you had grown to know and in some aspects appreciate. Nonetheless, you stepped through the clear glass doors, and into the technical oasis to find your desired object.

Upon stepping inside the store, you’re met with parallels of earth. Vast screens, big and small, sit perched on stands, displaying each model and the variety of features they come with. In contrast to the monotone, muted palette of Apple that you’d grown used to, the color scheme was vibrant, striking, and almost overwhelming with the marketing in its own store. The employees attitudes’ were closer to those of Bath and Body Works, as they immediately rushed up to you with rehearsed lines on their latest sales. They threw in what they thought was “relatable” to a human in their commentary to brighten their appeal, though it came off very cringy.

“I’m sure you could use some of our latest VOXTECH SECURITY to protect that fleshy body of yours.” One employee said, impressing the odd mention of your body with gestures.

“Yes, or perhaps some of our VOXTECH GAMING SYSTEMS for the hippest of games from the human world.” A different employee interjected, stepping closer with a widened grin.

“Or perhaps-” The rest of their sales’ pitches flew around you like a flurry of bullets. You gave up trying to understand all their tech jargon, opting to space out, and somewhat reconsider getting that phone you’d been vying for. 

Oh the social anxiety…insistent employees…why must you exist…just let me shop.

You took a step back, prepared to turn tail and book it back to Angel Dust, when electricity shot straight out of one of the overhead television screens, and behind the mob of pushy employees.

“AHEM…” the crowd looked back, and immediately cleared a path for- wait you’ve seen this guy on TV- “I think I’ll handle this one boys, step aside~” He said confidently, a cocky smirk plastered across his screen.

Wow his face is a literal screen! Talk about SCREENAGERRR

Ruby eyes focused down on you, locked on your vulnerable form like a bird of prey. His suit was crisp, a mix of dark and light blues, accompanied by the same hue of his eyes shaped into a perfect ensemble. He was the television demon that you had heard about, seen everywhere in this district, and now here he was, just as imposing as you expected the Overlord to be. Maybe that’s why for the life of you you could not remember his name, your eyes completely glazing over everything with the literal name Vox plastered across the entire store. Your mind felt hazy with a mix of nerves and intrigue, barring you from common observations that you already have a hard time picking up on in day to day life.

  What was his name again? Fuck I know it started with a V…I’m pretty sure it was Vaughan! Ima go with that!

Vaughan- or at least you think bent down to your level and put his screen inches from your face, holding that same, charming smirk. It was the kind that doesn’t reach a person’s eyes, the kind that brightened the room with a fake, fluorescent glow of confidence. He was a master of show business, that much was clear.

“It’s not often we see humans around these parts, so it’s TRULY an honor to meet you, as I’m sure it is for you to get to meet me. I assume you know my name already, but what’s yours, little doll?” You grimaced at the nickname, but tried to keep a polite smile.

“Ah, yeah, nice to meet you too Vaughan-“ His eye twitched.

Fuck, not his name.

“I’m (Y/n).” You said simply, wringing your hands behind your back. The hope of a peaceful shopping experience was quickly leaving, fleeting like most good things in this realm. The demon stared you down, his glittering smile ever present, before he “casually” coughed, and began to speak again.

“It’s actually VOX, doll. You know, like it says EVERYWHERE in the store?! Haha! What a funny little jokester you are!” He slapped your back far too hard for your human body. You let out a wheeze from the uncomfortable feeling of your ribs rattling in your torso. He feigned concern, but a twinkle of cruel amusement zapped through his electronic gaze. “Now then, what did you come to buy? I’m sure there are many things that could interest-“

“My human mind yes yes I JUST WANT A PHONE.” Your voice came out firmer than you meant, but this is BUSINESS. It’s time for (Y/n) serious business negotiation tactics! 

A concise flicker of surprise graced Vox’s screen, but it was just as quickly smothered under a sea of hauteness, washing over his features like a wave of salty water.. A gloved hand clamped around your shoulder as he whirled you around, and led you to their selection of phones. The tips of his digits pressed into your shirt, piercing the fabric and pricking your flesh, a feeling you’d grown accustomed to with demons. Unfortunately, the uncomfortability of the situation was still palpable, and tumultuous  unease gripped you tightly. Keeping a brave face was becoming painfully essential.

Demons were like a bunch of damn dogs, they could smell fear.

In an unconscious effort to seek comfort, you reach over to your wrist and run your fingers along the cool silver of your charm bracelet. Your fingers lingered on the tiny deer charm, rubbing it with your thumb. The sensation of the smooth metal grounds you, before you force your attention back on the technology on display.

You almost couldn’t believe you craved the familiar, fear-inducing presence of Alastor, but right now, he seemed more safe than the Overlord who you worried would pierce your skin with his claws and rip off your arm if you called him Vaughan again.

Much to your chagrin, Vox caught the way your hand moved, the small action glorified in his mind to something that was clearly bothersome. He immediately halted your stride, placing himself between you and the phone you were about to be shown. He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles in a scummy, gaudy fashion. A false promise of gentleness as he eyed the jewelry with scrutiny of an appraiser.

“What’s that? A dinky little charm bracelet?” He barked out a laugh and brought his fingers to your wrist. You instinctively pull back, but you’re yanked back with almost enough force to pull your arm out of its socket. “Oho, you got this from Alastor, didn’t you? Oh that’s hilarious, I can still feel the tacky magic he used for it radiating off of it!” 

 You let out a grunt and continued to struggle in his vice grip. He let out a humorous scoff, before grabbing your chin with his other hand and forcing you to look up at him. “Now, doll…hold still, won’t you?”

His left eye morphed from a still color to a hypnotic swirl of red and black, a viperous, slithering pattern. You could feel its pull like a distant, siren song, like you were observing a spell being cast; you watched as the lulling dance of colors presented its waves of seduction, but you didn’t feel the urge to join it. You felt your own eyes focus in, a sparkling flash of white, and a stirring feeling of resistance, of understanding of what he was trying to do.

THIS FUCKER IS TRYING TO HYPNOTIZE ME! AW HELL NAH!

His grip had loosened, most likely he was expecting you to get trapped with whatever he was doing, so you took the chance to turn and try to book it out the door. You also took the liberty of swiping one of the nicer looking phones while you turned tail because like hell you’re going one more day without a phone.

You rapidly approached the glass doors, even seeing Angel Dust begin to leave the clothing store across the street. He recognized your situation, and you could see him about to break out into a sprint, but your vision was suddenly blocked by iron doors closing over the glass. You slammed straight into the metal, a groan barely making its way to your throat before you’re picked up by your arm.

“Ahaha…you little fucker! That’s crazy! You shouldn’t be able to resist my powers!” He laughed harder, amused by the fact. “Oh we could’ve done this the easy way sweetheart, but you just had to go and piss me off.” His grip tightened.

Hard.

Fuck fuck fuck my bones

Flashbacks of Alastor breaking your hand filled your mind, but there was no Vaggie with a spear, no Charlie with her powers and comforting words. Only thing with you right now is a tall ass, blue ass, reject backyardigans ass looking Overlord was going to kill you.

Then blue zapped your senses, gravity lost all meaning, and your vision gave way to the scorching beams of stage lights.

But it wasn’t a stage, not really. Things were hard to piece together, your mind was still trying to catch up with the events taking place (like always).

“Going live in five, four, three…” A voice echoed from behind the glow, and within seconds, Vox’s voice began to rant across from you in an informative, showman esk tone.

“Top of the hour folks and I’m here with the hottest new individual to be walking amongst us demons!”  Vox raved through his token, PR perfected smile. “They’ve been causing quite a stir, with all the chaotic bumbling and wild wandering they’ve been doing around hell, how could we not catch them for a quick snippet of what their thoughts are on the matter of being here with all the wonderful demons of the underworld! Everybody give it up, for the human-”

All the cameras pointed at you.

“(Y/n)!”

“YO WE GOT A PROBLEM!” Angel Dust's hands shook as he clenched the phone, heels digging into the pavement as he stomped around the fortified building. “I walked away for one second and now they’ve been fuckin’ kidnapped by that dumbass, overzealous box of wires!” 

“Angel, what part of ‘don’t leave their side, don’t let them out of your sight, and stay away from the entertainment district’ did you not get?!” Vaggie spat on the other side of the line, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You did ALL of those things, and now they’re on TV with a very powerful Overlord.”

“They’re on TV?!”

“You’re INSIDE the district right now LOOK AROUND there’s definitely a screen showing them.”

And in fact he did. With two swivels of his head, Angel Dust spotted the gigantic LED screen of a jumbotron. Electric blue and vibrant reds dominated majority of the screen, but as a pleasant pause to the pattern, there was you atop a plush, salmon pink couch, right across from Vox himself.

“Well fuck me sideways.”

“Now that you’re all settled in, do tell me how you’ve been liking- though most likely absolutely hating hell?” Vox asked, only sparing the cameras a glance before his digital eyes locked back onto you, probing for a response.

“Um…it’s hot?” An audience laugh played from a large speaker. It wasn’t like Alastor’s, the laughs were fuller, clearer, and modern.

“You can give us more than that, can’t you? It’s been said by reporters that you’ve been spending time at that new hotel run by the princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar! It must be a crazy switch from the human world, hm?” You really didn’t feel cut out for this interview thing, but it’s not like there was much of a place for you to go.

“I-uh, I’ve been doing good! Charlie’s really great, she gave me a job of sorts to help out the hotel, which speaking of…” your eyes flicker to the camera, the whisper of a grin beginning to form, “If you’re in for some redemption, well have we got the place for-” your brief attempt at marketing was quickly interjected by Vox.

“AHA! AMAZING to know, dear human! We’ll be right back after a word from our sponsors!” The camera’s cut, and Vox turns to you with a scowl. “I don’t know what the FUCK you think you’re doing, but you’re not gonna sit here and promote that bitch fest to my viewers for free!” 

“You asked me a question, I was answering it! I didn’t know this was scripted!” His expression further sours, before he puts a hand to his face, and with a quick breath his face has lit up with faux understanding. He lets out a dark chuckle, getting up from his seat to close the almost non existent space between you and him.

“Right, right, I’m sure that’s it.” He leans down, one hand shooting to one of your arm rests. “Look, I don’t give a fuck about you, your time at that stupid hotel, or even your relationship with that bambi bitch that’s decided to play with you.” His eyes burned holes in your charm bracelet. “I just need this pretty little face of yours,” he grabbed your face with his large, clawed hand, “to make me some money, got that~?” Vox’s eyes began to swirl once more, and the way he spoke was closer to a sleazy purr.

This is so cringe why is bro trying to seduce me ON SET…oh maybe this is why all those disney actors are fucked up. You bit the inside of your mouth, something he wrongfully interpreted as a good sign. He was leaning in more, somehow you could smell his breath (coming from a screen?), it was minty, and mixed with his expensive cologne, a cocktail of scents that made you realize that this is what people mean when they say ‘oh this guy SMELLED rich’. Wait he’s lowkey so fine-

Suddenly, the lights flickered, drawing the attention of you both. Electricity jumped from the surrounding tech, and crackles of static fogging the screens to the writhing colors of white and black.

Wait…it's a lot of static…

With that realization also came one that the demon standing above you was incredibly distracted, and incredibly angry. You needed to get out, and fast. You’d been being tugged around this entire time and you felt that if you let it go any further, you might end up in an even less desirable situation.

John Mulaney was right about second locations, damn it (Y/n) why couldn’t you listen to street smarts??

“Fucking- SOMEONE FIX THIS SHIT!” Vox barked, grip tightening on the couch rather than moving away to fix whatever was going on. It wasn’t ideal to try and run in this position, but…

Your hand moved down to your pocket, slowly grasping the pocket knife that lay inside. Angel had given it to you so long ago, but it remained unused, pure, and if you knew anything about Angel, it should be sharp as hell. No time was put into thinking though, because in a motion swifter than you thought you could do, you whipped out the weapon, flicked it open and brought it down onto the Overlord’s hand.

For the smallest of seconds, almost unnoticeable, you felt a power surge through your hand, pulsing in your palm and empowering the knife that you were now plunging into Vox’s hand. A glow of white light shot from the end of the knife when you pulled it back, morphing from a beam that shot from its edge to a dispersing cluster of tiny bright lights. Vox was screaming and cursing loudly, but let go of the seat, opening the cage and allowing you to scramble out. He had reached after you with his other hand, but all the chaos of the tech malfunctions going on around him, and WITH him, it was a clumsy try that resulted in failure. 

“W-WHAT THE-” He clutched his hand, “I’M G0NN@ FUCK1N6 D-D35+R0Y Y0U!” He glitched.

You didn’t make it far with all the demons in the place, only up to a small kitchen, where a tall, blonde woman dressed in red. She stopped  mid sip of her coffee and snapped her head towards you with a predatory look in her eye. The vibe from this woman is something somehow more sinister than the Overlords you’ve been dealing with.

“Nope nope nope-” Though of course as you turn to retreat, Vox is stomping over to you, looking absolutely pissed. At that moment, you had a few options.

So naturally, you chose the worst one.

A pristine, crystal clear pane of glass was between you, and heaven. Actually it was still very much hell but it gave an angelic aura, coaxing you back towards it.

With the half baked thought locked in your stupid little (Y/n) brain, you hurled yourself at the glass.

CRASH

“WHAT THE FUCK-” Vox’s scream tapered off as you plummeted through the sizzling air. Off in the distance, like a soundtrack, zydeco music mused loudly from all the nearby speakers. The symphony of accordions and gritty voices filled with creole musicality became the theme music to your horrifying descent. Its motion, something oddly peaceful, had encompassed your mind. It could have been the adrenaline numbing your senses, but it was just…

“Oomph!” The pleasant surprise of black tendrils braces your fall, cradling you and lowering you theatrically onto the ground. “Alastor!”

“Once again you’ve taken a tumble, perhaps I should see to it that you get a parachute strapped to your back.” He said whimsically, looking up to where you’d fallen from. “The window, hm? Did you not try the door?”

“Girl-”

“AYE!” You both looked up again to see Vox jumping and screaming and throwing a hissy fit. “ALASTOR YOU PRICK WHEN I GET DOWN THERE-”

And poof! You’re back at the hotel. No more yelling Vox, just the pleasant chaos of Hell’s finest hotel!

“Didn’t wanna talk to your friend?” You ask with a soft laugh. Alastor cackles, waving a hand.

“Heavens, for you to even imply that I’d truly seek companionship with such an insolent fool such as him.”

“(Y/n)!” Angel Dust runs in, huffing and out of breath. “Shit I just watched all that on the news, why would you jump out a damn window?!”

“Why did you let them get kidnaped in the first place?!” Vaggie interjects.

“Can y’all shut the FUCK up I’m napping…” Husk hisses from the couch. “Glad you’re not dead though kid.”

Everyone keeps arguing at the exact same volume they were, Niffty runs up to you to dust your feet, and you’re once again left standing with Alastor. 

It was really weird.

He came and saved you, and hasn’t said a single thing about you owing him, why he helped you, or how he knew that you’d be flying through the air at that exact moment. Maybe he’d been watching the TV for once. 

Your conclusions faded to the back of your mind as you looked down at your hand, the one that had been used to stab Vox. You could still feel whatever weird thing that had shot out of the knife tingling at your fingertips.

There’s no way I did that…but, was it really the knife?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alastor murmured smoothly, relaxed eyes flickering to the hand you’d been staring at so intensely.

“Nickel for your dreams?” You parried, mirroring his sly smirk.

“Oho, a poet today aren’t you?”

“I feel more like an awful adventurer, that window broke when I threw myself at it but it felt like it almost didn’t haha.” You meant to ask about him saving you, but you knew that that would further complicate everything you’re trying to make sense of. “My mind still feels so…bleh, you know?” He hummed, an almost thoughtful flicker in his eyes as he moved his gaze around the room.

“That would be understandable…all things considered.” He once again looked at your hand. “Strange things do seem to fancy you, my dear.”

He didn’t say anything more and neither did you.

You did wonder if he could also be counted as one of those strange things.

Nah, probably not.

Chapter Text

Charlie was a sweet girl, she really was. You’d even say the kindest demon you’d met since being in Hell. 

Buuuuut she had the tendency to glorify the good deeds of those who’s wrong doings should outshadow their momentary heroicness. Yet here you were, standing off to the side as she preened the Radio Demon’s ego as if he were a precious bird.

Alastor stood tall next to you with relaxed, closed eyes as Hell’s Princess fussed over how awful it was that you were taken, and how supercalifragilisticexpialidocious it was for him to have been around to save you.

“If only I could’ve been there-” Charlie goes to say for the thousandth time, before Vaggie interrupts her repetitive tangent.

“Babe, it's okay. You see, they’re fine.” She quells for the thousand (and one)th time.

“Yeah, all because of Alastor! I knew that despite his quirks he’d be a great addition to our hotel! Even protecting them when they’re probably one of the weakest creatures in hell!” She said the unintentionally demeaning sentence with the biggest smile on her face directed at you.

“AYE!” You interjected.

“Aye nothing, I’m more insulted here. I protected em’ for a ton of hours!” Angel Dust huffed. “And bought them those clothes!” He gestures to the mountains of bags that lay on the ground. Alastor leans forward, looming over you in order to eye the spider.

“On the contrary, ‘ great protector’ , I’m not sure that you could be qualified as a proper body guard if the prize was snatched up as soon as you let them wander off.” He serves the matter-of-fact statement with a side of venom, eyes opening into glowing red slits to reaffirm his superiority. Angel’s mouth opened for a rebuttal, but Alastor had more to say, and you were forced to move out from under the leering demon. “Secondly, twas it your card that was used to purchase those garments?”

Angel’s response was a scowl and the middle finger, along with a slew of random insults that only he could think of. You had scurried off to where Husk stood behind the bar, idly watching the scene. As soon as your rear hit the seat, he had a cup full of your favorite drink, in your favorite glass. You smiled at him and accepted it without complaint, bringing the rim to your lips and nearly chugging down the liquid.

“Damn, it ain’t gonna run away, shit…” Husk half laughed. His expression of humor was often muted by his gravelly voice, buried deep in his chest; the slightest of purrs frequently snuck into it. The thought made you smile more as you continued to drink, before setting down the glass and leaning forward onto the bar with interest.

“What’d you do all day Husk? Just chill behind the bar?” He shrugged and reached under the bar to grab his booze.

“Pretty much. Saw ya on the news though, pretty intense shit huh?” This time you shrugged.

“Isn’t everything down here?” You rested your chin on your hand. “Do you seriously just sit here all day? You should’ve come shopping with me and Angel!”

“Eh? I already took you shoppin’, and I ain’t good at being out and about all the time.” He murmured into the bottle sullenly, before taking a long swig, avoiding your eyes. It was as though in that moment, he was retreating back into himself. A quality of self depreciation had slipped into his tone, making you frown

“Well we could go shopping for you next time, since I already got clothes. Gotta add to ya closet, get ya some new fits-”

“Kid, just say OUTfits. Always with your slang and shit.” 

“You don’t pronounce half your words, old man!”

“Old?”

“You keep calling me kid, and I’m not a kid.”

“Ya sure as hell act like one.” He grumbled with a teasing lilt.

“But you loooove me~” Husk’s fur pricked slightly at your taunt, a laugh rising in his throat. A soft grin of begrudging fondness formed upon his face, and he opened his jaws for another playful quip. Instead of producing those familiar gravely words you’d grown used to, his voice stopped before the first syllable, his eyes flickering past you, and his ears giving way to a slight droop. A shadow cast over you and Husk, enveloping you both like a looming cloud. The smell of decay and a louisiana bog crept into your nostrils slowly, along with long, spindly fingers that were suddenly gripping your shoulders. You suppressed a shiver at the sudden creepy atmosphere, and instead rolled your eyes.

“Alastor, what?” You sighed.

“I was just wanting to join the conversation my dear! I wanted to know what riveting words from our lovely bartender had drawn you away to such…” he gestured to Husk as though the cat were a half price toy, “ho-hum company~.” Husk let out a soft hiss of detest, while you let out a small huff.

“Al, we-” You began, but a glowing yellow grin flashed you halfway through your sentence, distracting you. In the beat that you paused, Alastor’s cheshire grin extended as he stared into Husk’s soul, before his beady eyes were turned back to yours.

Is he happy about me calling him Al or something? Why does he like nicknames all of a sudden?

“We…ugh we’re just talking about random things, and maybe hanging out?” Husk continued to silently sulk under the scrutinizing gaze of his master. You clocked Alastor’s behavior, and hopped over to the seat that was directly in front of your friend to block him from the pestering demon. Your eyes held Alastors with an almost playful twinkle, challenging him to focus on you rather than Husk.

 It would be awkward if you didn’t find it so funny.

His stare was meant for Husk, the person he could control. You on the other hand still had full rights to your soul, and seemingly something else. That “something else” though might require an expert’s opinion to fully understand.

“There was something I wanted to ask you about, Alastor.” His name came from your lips pointedly, but that phrase made his ears perk up, and the threatening attitude was dropped from his eyes, replaced with moderate interest that matched his widening grin.

“Is that so? Not something you want to ask your friend Husker?”

“Nope, I wanna ask you.”

“How agreeable of you to turn to a knowledgeable demon such as myself instead of the gambling drunkard!” 

“Damn, clocked that one.”

“Hey!” Husk yelled after swallowing his rum.

How to defend something so unfortunately true… You thought to yourself.

“No need to wait, I’m quite intrigued by that query bouncing around in that little brain of yours~” He offered a hand.

“Insulting, but not necessarily inaccurate.” You mumbled, taking his hand and hoping off the stool. 

“Shall we go to the terrace? The nightlife is sure to be vibrant by now, and perhaps our conversation could use some entertaining scenery?”

“Nah, let's go to my room, I have a ton of clothes to put up.” With that you walked over to the pile of bags that had been taking up space in the living room for the past few hours. Your hands were about to grasp the handles, when they disappeared into nothingness with only a few sparks of black and green magic to remind you of their previous location. You blinked, and turned to Alastor, who let out a hearty chuckle.

“You think me so rude to make you carry all those up to your room? Now, come along, my dear.” With a small beckon of his hand, he turned and began walking off down the hall. You briskly walked and caught up with his languid, long legged strides. 

Walking with Alastor always felt tedious, yet relaxing. His pace was never in a rush, and yet he’d take massive steps, eating up ground in an instant. Always with his shoulders up and back, humming an old, jazzy tune, you could feel your guard melting away. But as soon as you ease into a rhythm, matching your steps with his, he’d begin to quickly make progress that you couldn’t rival, and thus forcing you back into a quickened walk.

Even with something so simple, you couldn’t help but feel as though he was mocking- no, more like teasing you. 

Eh, you’re used to it by now.

Upon arriving at your room, Alastor opened the door for you, and sauntered in after. He casually surveyed the area, eyes roaming the untidiness of your bed, and any other imperfections you could feel him silently judging you for. Surprisingly, he said nothing about the state of your room, and tapped his cane to the floor, summoning the bags of clothes he had earlier made vanish to the middle of your floor. Before he could do any other “helpful” things with his magic, you frantically waved your hands.

“HOLD UP!” He raised an eyebrow at your sudden interjection. “Sorry, but I wanna organize my stuff how I want to, I just thought I could talk to you while I did so. No more help needed, haha.” You also didn’t need him seeing the lingerie you got, hell knows what he’d do with that information. 

The expectation was that your obvious detestation of him going through your stuff would gain at least a snarky comment, but oddly enough he just shrugged, and took a seat at your unused desk. You took it as a random chance of grace, and proceeded to begin unpacking all your new clothes. Alastor judged each of them, but didn’t say a word.

“So are you going to ask what it is you were wanting to know, or was this a trick to gain my attention?”

“Oh! Right!” You finish putting up a shirt and turn to him. “I’m not sure how to explain this but…I’m starting to think I have some weird power or something.” You fiddled with your hands as you explained. Alastor held the same expression he had the few seconds before you told him your thoughts, only letting out a small ‘hmm’. “What were you like, aware of it or something?”

“Mmmm, I’ve possibly had some… predictions, but I wouldn’t say I knew for certain. Why don’t you tell me why you’re considering such a seemingly impossible thing?” You suppressed a scoff at his cryptic answer, and thought about all the things that might count as “powers”.

“Weird dreams literally every time I sleep-”

“More detail please?”

“In a minute. Also when we weren’t able to make a deal, I think that was-”

“I feel like that was more of an incompatibility do you not?”

“No I don’t, let me finish, then when I was with Vox, his hypnosis didn’t work on me, and when I used Angel’s knife that he gave me, it looked like it had some weird glow around it. I felt it in my-”

“Darling I’m going to stop you right there.” You look at this man with furrowed eyebrows and start flailing your arms.

“SHUT UP DUDE LET ME FINISH!” Alastor’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction, and a small shrug is given, as though he has resigned to finally staying silent. You huff and begin ranting about everything weird you’ve dealt with, from the recurring dreams, to attacking Vox. When you were finally done, you were a bit out of breath, since you didn’t wanna give the little shit across from you enough time to interject for literally no reason. Though now that you were done, you felt a little silly sitting here telling the super powerful Radiodemon overlord about your “hypothetical” powers. “I sound like a pick me…”

“Who was picking you? That part must have gone over my head.”

“Alastor, I’m not explaining that to you right now.”

“Such a temper today, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed~”

“Alastor, I got FUCKING kidnapped by a walking TV, and you’re sitting in my room being annoying when I’m trying to confide in you.” Alastor laughed at your statement, standing up and twirling his cane idly. 

“My dear, I don’t mean to perturb you, I’m just being thorough.”

Thorough my ass…what a prick, I knew I should’ve asked Charlie. You thought as you turned away for a second to grab a new piece of clothing to be put away. Your hand was met with the silky smooth feeling of lingerie, which you quickly bundled up and rushed to hide in the drawer.

“Now,” he continued, “those do indeed sound like some strange happenings concerning possible magic resonating within you. I will say, when looking at your soul, there is a particular… shine to it, if you will.”

“A shine?” He nods and steps back, red eyes focusing on you, or rather, into you.

“Something protective, that’s why we couldn’t make the deal. Quite the tragedy I will say, it must make things a lot less fun. It would also explain your natural deviance towards Vox’s hypnosis.” He punctuates his sentence with a light tap to your nose with his staff. “Though I suppose that’s just a theory! An Alastor theory! I could be wrong!” You let out an automatic scoff.

“How do you not know?”

“I haven’t exactly seen it myself, darling, I need a more clear example.”

Did the time I fried his skin off while trying to make a deal with him not count as a clear example???

Your frustration only seemed to feed the flames of amusement that radiated off his demeanor.

“Maybe I should just go ask Charlie, or Husk…hell even Angel might be more useful.” That suggestion made him laugh even harder, a throaty expression of mockery.

“You really think they can help you ? Angel Dust’s powers are restricted to those of satiating physical desires, if you could even call those poignant, base tactics ‘powers’, hell knows if Husk’s got any ‘powers’ to present. Even if he does, they are utterly formless due to his inactivity and wayward ways. And Charlie? Hoho, she barely knows the full extent of her own powers as the princess of Hell! Just imagining her as a teacher,” He cackles, wiping a tear from his eye, “why, you’d be spelling the alphabet with ancient runes that have nothing to do with the powers you possess! Therefore leaving you positively helpless~” He finished his conclusion with a pleased sigh, shoulders relaxing as he felt the sense of your reliance switching to him. 

He had some fair points, he was the most confident in his magic, at least from what you could tell, but that twisted mirth that shone in his eyes was…unsettling. But this was Alastor you were dealing with, what else could you expect? It was obvious that he was guiding you to learn with him, you just couldn’t get why.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“And what might that be my dearest, possibly magical misfit?”

“You’re trying to get me to let you train me…or mentor me…whatever you’d call it!”

“If that were the case, it must be doing wonders. It seems you’re considering it.” Your head jerks back slightly at his directness.

“PFFFFT uh- bu- nu- nuh uhhhhh” You fumble, waving your hand around. Alastor raises an eyebrow.

No because why did I even bother saying anything?

“Look Alastor,” You begin, “I would like to-” You’re smacked across the face by something. “Uh- what was that? James?!” You’re smacked again from the opposite side. You look to Alastor and see him sporting an impish in the corner, and lose your shit.

“Alastor, you better stop hitting me with those FUCK ASS TENTICALES.”

“Or what? You’ll scream at me some more? Really, where’s the sensibility? You’re going to lose your voice if you keep this up.” You take off your shoe and throw it at him. He catches it with one of his inky appendages, and throws it back at you, hitting you square in the forehead. You fall back on your bed and scramble back up, flipping him off.

“FUCK YOU!” The bubbling anger that had been simmering all day seemed to boil over, like whatever had been sealed up inside you popped, and out from the middle finger you had pointed in the air came a small, white beam that went straight through the ceiling. It happened in a matter of seconds, but before it happened you could feel the energy. Warm, pure, throughout your entire body, and channeled just barely through your fingertips-or in this case your finger tip. It wasn’t just a power, it was a part of you, you could feel it. Hell you could even taste it.

It was sweet, like your favorite flavor of cake.

You feel so…strange. But in a good way. It’s a familiar feeling, almost nostalgic, and you can feel giddiness bubbling in your stomach, replacing the earlier irritation. You were smiling so big you didn’t even care that Alastor was standing a few feet away from you with a self absorbed smirk, acting like it was all because of him.

“Holy shit, I’ve got the power of the middle finger?” You proclaimed breathily, looking at your outstretched middle finger with awe. You could still feel the simmering heat of power flowing through your hand. Alastor’s eyes were lidded, a softer expression of satisfaction could be interpreted.

And that’s what you decided to assume that it was for the time being. Whatever mischief he was planning, whatever ulterior motive was being pursued, at this moment you were riding that high of “omg am I not a normal human???”, and you were gonna hold onto it.

And there we have it, the fawn finally sprouts their antlers~

The demon’s lungs filled with air, a breath of refreshment, before exhaling silently with satisfaction simmering underneath the unseen action. You were so focused on your own little powers that you couldn’t perceive his all seeing gaze. Those bright red eyes he possessed filtered your little trick with pure delight, and bounced around in his mind with the other plans whirling through his head.

To think that all it took were a few pushes of the psyche. Ah, what a steal! To push and prod at those fragile human emotions, as well as see the budding potential of the one power that could truly trump that of a demon’s. He thought to himself, though he could feel a twinge of something else could be felt inside his cold, dead heart, alongside the excitement of his scheme. It surprised him, but perhaps it was only natural. 

That feeling…it was a slight fondness.

But how could he not? Watching the small, soft thing chirp and rave about the tiniest spurt of magic, it was quite entertaining, dare he think adorable. Sure he was the Radio demon, a cruel and ruthless overlord, but even he could acknowledge such things; of course the fact that others might find their little performance endearing romantically almost made him cackle out loud, for what fools those individuals would be.

He craved more than a pretty little pet to keep in his clutches, he wanted that power that resided in them. He was already at the top of the food chain, but the thought of being able to control such a rare power? Something so lethal to demons? He suppressed a shiver of excitement at the thought of all the high ranking demons he’d have the ability to conquer. 

Alastor focused back in on the human he was observing, truly looking at their movements and attitude change. They had noticed long ago that this little “lesson” wasn’t just for their gain, and they were ever so slightly on edge. That being said, they still grinned from ear to ear, asking if he saw how “fucking cool that shit was”. ..indeed he did.

“I’m sure there’s much more where that came from my dear, it appears that you’re blessed with amazing talents~” He declared with a drawl, wondering if you’d catch his pun. Probably not, but it was of no importance. If he felt like sharing the true origin of your powers (or at least what he predicted), he would in due time. All that mattered was that it was all out on display for him and him alone.

. This was the beginning of tapping that power you had been harboring, that had invaded his mind ever since he saw that glimmer around your soul.

And he was going to use it. He was going to claim it for himself.

Chapter Text

The color red had been the focal point of your vision for the past 30 minutes ; the rich, velvety color remained a constant in contrast to the frustrating situation, which gnawed and grated at your mind as you attempted to recall that feeling. The buzz, the flavor…that feeling of your magic.

Magic…or magick with a k….magick~

Soft melodies drifted back into your brain, finally grasping your attention after having sat on the floor of the Radio Demon’s room trying to conjure up…something (you still weren’t quite sure what he wanted you to do). Alastor’s humming had weaved its way in now, or perhaps he had been performing the duet all along and you had been too focused to notice. His bare hooves against the wooden flooring clicked in near rhythmic pattern as he swayed with the music, occasionally sliding over to your spot on the rug and twisting his body into unnatural positions that put his smiling face in your line of sight.

“Am I doing it right yet?” You sounded more annoyed than you meant to, but you were really starting to get tired. There was a cumbersome weight that was creeping its way throughout your body. It was akin to the feeling you got after a good workout, but with the buzz of a less pleasant high.

“Not at all!” Alastor chirped, grin wide as ever. He pressed a finger to your forehead, pushing your head backwards to make you look up as he snapped back into a normal standing position with a CRACK of his bones (question mark).

“Oh, well, yeah. Of course. fuck my life.” You flop backwards with your limbs splayed across the floor and groan. Low pitched radio frequencies mixed with softly buzzing static echoing in and out of earshot, just like a whimsical laugh that found joy in your misery.

“Starfish, starfright, not the first despairing soul I shall see tonight~” Alastor muses, sauntering around your form. “You are aware that you’ve been trying to conjure your magic for only half of the hour, yes?” He stops next to your head, and leans down to stare into your eyes upside down, waiting for a response.

You let out a huff…before nodding.

“Excellent! Then you should understand that patience is a virtue, and it would be quite surprising for you to do exactly what I tell you to immediately!”

“Aw Alastor, who knew you could be so encouraging! It’s great to hear-”

“Encouragement? HA! I am simply stating a fact , my dear! After all, you are a lowly mortal who’s power could never compare to someone, say, much more experienced like myself, who has so graciously taken it upon himself to teach you.” He tries to boop your nose again but you swing a fist at his hand with a slight growl. “Come now, don’t be fussy~ There is not a buck in the world that’s masterful horns are grown overnight.” The comparison only makes you roll your eyes.

“...But I’m not a deer..and I won’t be growing horns-” Alastor cut you off with a sharp glare that teetered delicately between condescension and slight annoyance.

“Must you continue these childish quips? I’m sure that energy would make great fuel for that magic you’ve been trying to summon.” This time he successfully boops your nose, and then flick’s your forehead. You feel a slight sting, sharp, and feel the tiniest bit of blood begin to trickle down. You hiss and raise a hand to your now injured skin.

“Uh- BITCH YOUR FUCKASS NAILS JUST CUT MY FOREHEAD!” The smirk on the demon’s face only widened, before he shut his crimson eyes and gave a small shrug.

“Oopsies~ here, let me get that for you-” He began to approach.

“GET AWAY FROM ME! Hey HEY PUT YOUR TONGUE AWAY ALASTOR WHAT THE FUCK-” You scramble back, banging your head on the dresser right behind you. 

Alastor’s mic plays a laugh track.

You raise your head and give him the middle finger…

…Which then produces a small beam shooting through the ceiling.              

“...Are you fucking kidding me right now?” you whisper, your voice low and edged with disbelief as you direct your words towards your own trembling hand, the hot tang of magic settling into a softer sizzle. A distinct, staticy snicker echoes in the air, and you look up to find Alastor’s mischievous gaze fixed on you, his sharp teeth glinting in a sly grin. With a growl, you point an accusatory finger in his direction, scrambling for a grip on this dumb situation. “STOP LAUGHING—” The words barely leave your lips when you unleash another beam of energy, this one shooting forth, and striking the very spot he had occupied moments before, which was now…empty?!

 Your head whips to the right, and with no demon in sight, leaves you to look the other way, where you’re met with that eerie, familiar grin of razor sharp teeth and glowing eyes. You squawk in surprise, jumping slightly, but your body was planted firmly in place by the spindly, clawed fingers that were now creeping onto your shoulder. The dead, cold feeling of his hand sends an unsuppressable shiver down your spine, and you glare at him with disgust and uncomfortability.

Your reactions only made his eyes crease with delight.

Typical. You thought, but you didn’t move. Was there a point with him? 

“Oh how cinematic… how…common!” His lips curled and teeth separated as he barked out laughter, a genuine, yet degrading sound that echoed from the back of his throat. The loud noise made you flinch, begin to form a reply, but held your tongue as he continued. “It is just so stereotypical dear! Your emotions! Those are what are controlling the magic you should be able to acquire on a whim!” He slowly exhales, letting a soft, amused “ah” out as he does. You scrunch your face, but don’t turn away.

“You’re the one that said patience was a virtue.”

“True! But within the same breath I could tell you the sky was more pink than red! All subjective is it not?”

“No I’m pretty sure the sky is red-”

“The whims of your magic are how you perceive it, dear (Y/n), and as you allow them to be controlled by your silly human feelings, away that grip falls…” He illustrated his words with his free hand, although it soon found its way to your other shoulder with a slow, methodical tap of his fingers. All of his digits then tightened on your shoulders. “Haven’t you pondered why I smile? A smile is a useful tool– keeps your friend’s hopes high, and your enemies feeling lower than the dirt beneath your shoe.” An edge creeps into his voice, partly distorting like a radio. He squeezes you even tighter, bordering painful. “But most importantly…” He suddenly grabs your face with his index finger and thumb, “You’re never fully dressed without one!” 

He squeezes your cheeks together, which catches you so off guard you laugh, shutting your eyes in a rare moment of playful opposition. Alastor’s gaze slowly rises from squished cheeks to your forehead, his pupils dilating subtly as he focuses in on the injury he had caused just minutes before that very moment. His mouth parts slightly, like a snake tasting the air for prey, and he eyes the blood stain drying upon your skin with such precision it looks as though he just might strike. 

With your eyes shut tightly, you are only aware of the feeling of his breath upon you. It’s not warm. Not even close. In fact, it’s bordering on a cooler temperature; a damp, decaying draft of air from a long abandoned cave that swallows each and every explorer that has attempted to explore it.

Yeah okay that’s enough, you thought and finally pushed away. “Unhand me, wench!” You fling yourself out of his hands, backing up with another shiver. Your gaze avoided Alastor’s, because for some reason, you were somehow the one feeling awkward. He’s the one who got all up in my face…ugh his presence alone gaslights me. 

When you finally look back at him, he’s back to his usual self. He’s standing upright again, eyes lazily watching you from across the room as if he wasn’t all up on you just a few moments before. 

“For someone who hates physical touch so much, you’re awfully handsy, old man.” You said the last part with a teasing lilt. Alastor hummed and sauntered over, hands clasped behind his back in his usual fashion. He then swats a hand in your direction, as if to shoo away your distasteful comment.

“I will have you know, child, I was on the younger side of my human life span when I died! I’m but a young buck!” His antlers grow suddenly, wisps of green and black magic sparking off of them like a magnetic force repelling you with such unexpected  you have to dig your heels into the floor. “Though….m̨̝̯̞͕̦̍͛́̑͜y̲̙̰͈̻̤͈͒̐̌͞ ̨̙̖͖̀̓ą̺͍͌̈̃n͇̲͐̃̒̐͘t̩̝̙͛̿̐͘͡l̷̴̢͚͉͎̙͛̽̈̕͡e̻̩͎͒̂̃r̷̼͎̼̦̠̦̓̃̑͢s̵̸̶̵̺̻̗͒̋̐̈́͞ ̨̪̯̫͍̾̊̏̎͢͠ẗ̻́̋̐͘͢ĕ̞̭̰̹̲͖̒̊͠ͅl͖͕͎̳͍̭̈̄̽͟l̵͈͗̈͘͝ ̱̪̜͑͆̀͋͌͆̽ͅa̢̧͉̳͔͉͂̽̍͊̀̕ ̢̱̦̙̆̽̕͜͝ͅm̨͚̹̯͗͛͊u͛̐͏͏̼͙̺̥͇͢͡ç̛͎̗̈́̃͆̆͂͏h̢͓̘̝̤̹̎͐̓̿͢ ̺͛̏̊͗͜d̮̳̜̗̿͋̆̑̚͠ǐ̷̳͍̣͇̀̍̃̕͢͞f̴̢̜̯̩́̕͡f̨̞̓̔͊̆́͘͢͞e̦͙̘͛̃̐͂̆̽r̨̛͎̤͒̏́͘ḛ͎̤͖̈̉́͌͐͝͞n̶̵͎͙͛̆̽̎̑͞t̛̥̝̠̙̻̆̅̅͋ ̶̡̮͎̃̃̽ţ̵̲̯̯̎̾̏̀̈́à̛̘͉̽͟ḽ̵͓̙̜̈̅̃e̸͇͙̰͕͊̓̄̈́͗~̵̻̗̘̠͍̀̆̐̚̚͢”̢̼̙͕̼͊̕͠

‘POOF’

He’s back to normal, and his smirk is now but a small, teasing grin.

“ Stag -nation will only hinder the progress of any growing deer. Or fawn.” He muses and pats your head. “Now, don’t you have something to be working on?” 

The quip you had so readily prepared died in your throat, leaving only a small “uh-” to leave your gaping mouth. You’d thought that by now this man’s (more like heathen’s) behaviour switches had been easy enough to keep track of, but nope! One moment he’s staring at you with literal demon eyes, horns twisting like the roots of a tree through blood soaked earth to find water, now he’s patting you on the head talking to you like a child! Calling you a fawn!

It wasn't just the gesture that made you narrow your eyes and pout with displeasure. It was the unexpected comfort that tingles in your chest from his mock-up, honeyed words and gentle hand. You wondered if it were these charms that helped him lure all the poor souls into signing away their very being to someone so horrid.

“It’s giving Ursula.” Fuck now Poor Unfortunate Souls from the hit Disney Movie The Little Mermaid is gonna be stuck in my head because of some off brand combination of a dead deer and Nicki Minaj,  “what’s name b o b so they calling you bob-”

“My name is Alastor, dear!”

“I- oh you sweet summer child you are so uncultured.” Alastor tilted his head, this time without an entire neck break.

“I am closer to a stag, as was referred to in my pun!” His ears twitched, and he brought a prideful hand to his chest to straighten out his suit.

Then came a knock at the door. The first was the lightest, almost hesitant, while those that followed crescendoed into well heard raps. Alastor’s head snapped to the direction of the noise, expression unchanging. 

“Ah! A visitor! And so late! Let us see who it is.” He hummed a jaunty tune as he approached the door, while you followed a few paces behind. He took his time unlocking, and slowly bringing the golden knob inwards reveal Angel Dust. The demon dawned a pink, fluffy robe, silk cascading down his lithe body. It was a major juxtaposition to his expression, as well as his stance, which was weary, yet tense. His lower set of arms crossed tightly against his stomach, while the other two were planted firmly on his hips.

“The fuck is all this damn racket? It’s 1am and I got work tomorrow, an all day shoot!” Despite speaking to Alastor, his eyes did not stay fixed on the Radio Demon. His mismatched pupils flickered sharply to find you, though occasionally going back to the man in front of him. It was like he was doing a really bad job of trying not to stare at you. “And what’s the human doin’ in there? You know Charlie’ll be pissed if you wreck em’.”

Alastor’s only response was a long, hard stare at the spider. In spite of not being able to see his expression, you could feel a buzz of pleased static crackling around him, and could only imagine the gleeful, mocking air that his smug face sported, boasting the pleasure he took from the effeminete man’s fitful interruption of your “training” (if that’s what you were gonna call it).

“Angel Dust!” He finally chirped, drawing out the name like he hadn’t seen him in ages, and had missed him dearly. “I do apologize for our noise, twas enough to wake the dead I see!” He gives a hearty laugh. Angel does not. A tense silence befalls them once more, the conflict further igniting the joyous static you can already feel building. You quickly try to come over to explain, but completely trip over nothing (or perhaps something), and stumble to the floor embarrassingly. 

“Ah–fuck, hey Angel! We’re just practicing magic!” You huff, hauling yourself upright and doing a little spin to observe your surroundings, because there doesn’t look like anything you could trip on.

“...Magic?” Angel Dust’s expression drops to an apathetic skepticism. 

“Yes! Magic! I was showing our dearest room attendant here exactly what all these amazing powers of mine can do! They were just so curious!” He turns halfway towards you, closing the door a bit, and flashing you his whimsical expression of mischief. Angel Dust rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath.

“They don’t needa be in here alone with ya at fuckin’ midnight ta see what ya can do.” He flicks a lazy finger to Alastor, nearly touching the bowtie that sits pristinely on crips, crimson suit. “The fuck ya actually doin’, huh? We already had Sir Pentious doin’ shit he wasn’t supposed to, now you’re in here with (Y/n) doin’ Satan knows what at the ass crack of night?”

“Ohoho! Such a surprising show of interest from you! Strange to see you so out of sorts…” He laughs softly to himself– so sardonically that it insinuates the emotions of another to be but a small, unimportant blip within his universe of vast perception. “Is a human all it takes for you to push aside your selfish, hedonistic thoughts to finally make space for the consideration of someone other than yourself?” 

Angel’s face twitched, startled with the sudden verbal attack, before clenching his teeth behind an open scowl.

“Ya know what freaky face? How about you show me some of that magic ya were practicing because I sure as hell bet I can pull a gun faster.”

“Hm~ Well if you pull my arm~”

“W-wait! Angel let ME show you something!” You try and push your way past Alastor. His cane is suddenly in his hand, and it snaps out in front of you, so fast the tip hits the door frame with a loud ‘CRACK’. You jump back, but attempt to climb over the cane. “ Move it Alastor! I wanna show him!” You let out a noise of frustration from your effort, trying to squeeze between Alastor and the wood, while trying to climb over the cane, which was harshly pushed into your thigh, throwing you off balance, and making you fall out into the hallway.

“Aye! The fuck Alastor?” Angel Dust leans down to help you up, but a loud radio screech causes his hands to cover his ears before he can help you up.

“What was it that I said about patience, dear?” He tutted and stepped out into the hallway, past Angel, and yanking you back up with the same cane he knocked you down with by sticking it in the back of your shirt. “Don’t you want to wait til those silly little flares turn to full beams?”

“If you’d quit speakin’ in riddles and tell me what’s goin’ on–”

“An explanation can wait til our dear friend is fresh as a fig in summer! They have been working so hard for the past,” A watch appears on his wrist, and he raises his arm theatrically to check it, “40 minutes!” 

“I’m tired but I’m gonna show Angel Dust before I go to bed!”

“Nonsense! You’re all tuckered out! Goodnight to you, sweetest of dreams~” With a snap of his fingers you fell. You screamed as you were sucked into a seemingly black hole, falling for but a second, before hitting something soft.

Your bed.

“Oh so the fucker ACTUALLY put me to bed…WHY?!”

Back in the hallway, Alastor stood perfectly still as Angel Dust cussed him out. His eyes drifted down the hall in the direction of your room, ears flicking with satisfaction, as well as curiosity to how you you were taking being thrown into your room like a misbehaving child.

Not well obviously, but he liked that. Every fawn needs a little nip to stay in line, he just so happened to enjoy the guidance more than most mentors.

“Bitch you better not be ignorin’ me now, I told you–” Alastor gave Angel a passing glance, before morphing into shadows and teleporting back into his room, the door slamming shut with a flick of his wrist, leaving the other demon fuming in the hallway.

“....ugh the fuck was that!” Angel Dust screetches, before storming off to his own room and slamming the door.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

When you first got to hell, sleeping was laced with the eerie dreams of an endless void. They morphed slowly into a peaceful place that you learned to enjoy– small white fireflies flitting around your head, landing like a kiss atop your fingers, hair, and the leafy dark blades now and then. The cool grass (?) beneath your bare feet had become a salve for the days that you were on your feet helping out around the hotel. Despite the experience of being in your dreams, your aches always felt better once you had spent time in your little ‘happy place.’

It was the most tranquil thing you could hope to experience in hell.

However, as of late, the patch had grown bigger.

MUCH bigger.

Like 3 times how big the patch used to be? And the firefly population had turned the dim lighting of the void into a well-lit night under a full moon. It was just as peaceful, just bigger and less dream-like. You could connect the dots between your powers and these fireflies, you weren’t stupid, but you did question if this meant that your power was glowing like these little creatures were in numbers.

“This seems like an awake problem.” You say quietly, mostly to yourself (a little to the fireflies). You said the same thing to yourself every time you had this dream. Every night.

“(Y/n), can you go get Angel? We’re about to get started on today’s exercise!” Charlie chirped, hands working steadily to wrap up the bags of fake drugs.

“I think I saw him leave already.” You replied, wrapping the already filled bags. “Something about work– I think he was on the phone with that Val guy.” Charlie’s smile turns into a small frown, eyes lowering.

“Aw, really? This exercise was mostly for him…” She sighs and continues working, though a bit more sluggish. “Valentino really has him working a crazy amount these days. And the way he has him working just–” She pauses and shakes her head. “He’ll be okay, because…BECAUSE-” She raises a finger, “He is resilient! He’ll be here for the next exercise! Nothing to worry about!” 

There was more of an edge towards the end of her self-soothing ramble, but it was understandable considering the situation. So you just gave a reassuring nod, before also continuing to work on the bags. However, curiosity got the better of you, and you sniffed one of the open bags. 

“So Charlie, what is this?”

“Powdered sugar of course!” She sticks a finger in the substance and raises it to her lips, giving it a lick and doing a little happy dance at the sweet taste. Vaggie snorts and rolls her eyes but with a fond smile. 

Husk was grumbling in the corner, holding Niffty by the back of her collar to keep her from going ballistic over the spilled bits of powdered sugar dusted across the lobby. 

“Husk, let the girl do her job!” You called. He threw his hands up with a dramatic eye roll and a subtle feline growl.

“Fine! But when she starts tryna get rid of those baggies with the rest of the ‘mess’ don’t come cryin’ to me!” He huffed, red brows arched with vexation. He crosses his arms for a moment but then saunters over to begin helping you tie up the bags. He was still grumbling but worked efficiently.

“Thanks, Husk,” you hummed, taking a moment to look around, “you know, I saw Sir Pentious’s egg bois a while ago, but I haven't seen him at all this morning. New invention keeping him busy I assume?” An explosion could be heard in the distance. “Yeah, I thought as much.”

“Don’t go around his shit. He gets trigger happy and he’s gonna end up shootin’ ya.” You roll your eyes. He glares at you. “I’m serious.” 

You feel the brush of something feathery against your ankle and look down.

Aw, Husk’s tail!

You grin and throw an arm over his shoulders. His body seizes up as you’ve shocked him, but his tail, in a way, tightens around your ankle that it was originally resting against. 

“You care about meeeee.” You muse. Husk hissed and tugged away, but his tail still held strong. “Husk quit acting like we’re not besties, you’re making me look like a fan.” 

Charlie gasps from across the room jumping up and down.“Awww! I had no idea you were both so close! Wait wait wait I should take a photo for the hotel’s sinstagram!”

“Wait, this place has an Instagram page?”

“Sinstagram!” She corrects, whipping out her phone. “Both of you- wait no get close again.” She’s waving around her hands and directing. Husk begrudgingly stands still, arms slack, while you wrap your other arm around him and smile, albeit slightly strained now from the camera.

“Husk please my face hurts.” You say through your teeth and he huffs and aggressively wraps an arm around your waist, looking at the camera.

“Say cheese!” Charlie says with a smile, pointing at her face as if to represent. Your words are more enthusiastic than your photo buddy, but you enjoy the moment nonetheless. Charlie immediately goes to look at the photo, but then seems taken aback.“What? Alastor?!” She squeaked.

“Alastor?” You and Husk say at the same time.

“ Mmmm ~?” The mosquito -esq hum was the only confirmation you both needed.

You and Husk jump two feet in the air, whipping around to see the overlord looming over you both with perfect posture and a predatory grin. Instinctively, you try and put distance between you and the demon, but he quickly grabs your shoulder to keep you in place. He seemed pleased with the action.

“I wasn’t aware there was a platform for this facility on that brain rotting piece of glass either!” He chirps, hand clenching harder on your shoulder.

“Alastor! You ruined the photo.” Charlie frowns, showing the screen. It had you with your arms wrapped around Husk, and Alastor standing right behind you two with a blurred form and static spreading out, infecting the rest of the image with a similar distortion.

“Oopsies! I just wanted to see what all this joyus commotion was about!” His eyes moved slowly between you and Husk, before zeroing in on the cat. “Especially from someone like you, dear Husker! My my, I can’t remember the last time you got so close to a person. You know, with all those issues of yours.” He flits a hand at Husk, turning his head over to you. “I really wouldn’t get too touch with this one, dear. You know how he is~”

“Pretty sure whatever joy was, or could be experienced, died about as soon as you stepped in the room.” Husk retorts. Alastor flashes a wider, condescending grin in response.

“W-we can just take another photo!” Charlie tries to interject. “We were having such a good time!”

“Hard to have a good time when we have the devil involved.” Husk mumbles. Alastor, still holding onto you, takes a step forward, and due to the positioning, immediately stomps a heel down onto Husk’s tail. Husk lets out a loud noise between a hiss and a screech, jerking his body to lunge. However, a green light glows in Alastor’s free hand, taking the form of a magical chain that connects to a collar of the same substance around Husk’s neck.

“Hey, woah!” You turn try to turn and swat at the hand that Alastor hand is tightening the leash with, but once again, his hand on your shoulder only grows tighter. Except this time, he angles his sharp nails down, piercing through your clothes and threatening to breach your flesh.

The pain makes you jump, and shoot up your hand to rid yourself of his touch, but as soon as your skin touches his–

A flash of light–

Though your vision is full of white, you feel his hand finally leave your shoulder, and the bright light is gone.

When your vision adjusts to the aftermath of the flashbang, your eyes are drawn to Alastor’s new placement in the room. He must have teleported to the other side of the space, as he often does, but there’s a surprisingly inquisitive look in place of his usual whimsical expression. His head tilts all the way to the side with a slow, horrible ‘ creaaaak’ – before snapping into place, locked sideways, and letting his eyes fall down to the grotesque remains of his hand.

His hand…that is mostly gone.

He was staring at the wound, a curious, tense look in those eyes of his, ears twitching. Perhaps he was listening to the sizzling noise coming from it. Or maybe it was a reaction to the pain. You couldn’t tell. You didn’t know if a man like him felt pain.

Finally looking for yourself, you couldn’t suppress a cringe. The severance was nowhere near clean. His spindly, gloved hand was now a misformed clump of oozing blood and black goop, with hanging pieces of tissue and fractured bone. The viscous liquids dripped onto the floor with sickening, unrhythmic ‘plops’, and the dangling bits of his gray skin threatening to follow suit.

It was a horrific sight, that’s for sure. Your brain couldn’t trick you out of that. And yet, there was still space for amazement. You stared in wonder, and the slightest bit of cockiness. You didn’t ever think that he had a bone. You didn’t think you would ever see it. But now that you have… 

Husk’s collar was still around his neck. He had been tugged to the far wall of the lobby to where Charlie was, who had started screaming and pointing at Alastor’s hand. He, however, was looking up at you with fear in his eyes. Fear of what? Definitely not of you.

I did that and he still thinks Alastor is gonna…

You thought back to what Angel said, about finding leverage.

Not at all how I thought that I’d find a way to take control but LETS FUCKING GO??? Might as well take the shot???

In another second, he was back in front of you, a high-pitched static droning in the air around him, with an expression that was unreadable.

Unreadable; you didn’t have time to even process what face he was looking at you with. You didn’t have time to think about it because everything was happening at a speed your body could barely keep up with, much less your mind. Your hand rose from your side, fingers curling into a fist that found itself hurling towards Alastor’s chest. It was as if a target had begun glowing on the crossing, black lines of his suit. Your eyes squeezed shut as you made contact, images of the fireflies you saw so vividly in the darkness of your dreams flashing across your lids, your mind trying to harness whatever power they seemed to bring you.

“GET FUCKED BITCH!” The words flew from your mouth like flint to light ablaze the power you were channeling.

Fwump

…

He didn’t move whatsoever. With him this close now, in the moment of rare pause, you could smell him. That wet dirt, rotting sandalwood, and sickeningly metallic. It grounded you in an unexpected way, bringing you down from whatever high that your act of violence had put you in. A sinking feeling crawled into your gut as you realized that you had done nothing after being able to do a LOT of something.

“Are you fucking kidding-” You try another swing, (weaker, much less confident), into his arm. Once again you make contact. And it had the exact same effect. You slowly looked up at Alastor, faltering as Charlie began to run over. She was stopped by a giant tentacle that burst through a portal in front of her.

Alastor finally released Husk’s chain and let it fall to the ground, disintegrating. He said nothing as he came at you again, teeth bared in a snarl, glowing eyes squinted, and hands rapidly approaching you.

Husk yelled something in the background but was cut off from interfering the same way Charlie was. Your fists came up and you started punching. Landing blows each time, but due to their ineffectiveness, he is able to grab one of your wrists and hurl you to the ground. You landed with a hard thump , knocking the air out of your lungs. Before you could recover, Alastor’s boot was on your chest with a modest amount of pressure. You grunt, arms coming up to grasp at his pant leg.

“G-get off.” You stutter. Your vision was blurred, but you were trying to focus on his face.

Ever since this shit started I haven’t even been able to see his…wait it definitely doesn’t matter what kind of look he has since it’s Alastor, that’s not gonna tell me anything.

And yet, you took in his half-lidded eyes and grin, brows arched as though he were relaxed. But his mouth was closed, and though he often did that when resting, those thin, grey lips were pressed together just a bit too tightly to match the upper half of his face.

“Well!” He barked, drawing out the vowel. “Another surprise from my dearest human~ Growing a backbone are we?”

Charlie and Husk had finally gotten around the obstructions, rushing closer to where Alastor had you pinned down. Charlie’s hands came up to push Alastor off of you, but before contact could be made, Alastor snapped his fingers, and you were both gone.

“Wh-what? Shit!” Charlie yelled, before turning to Husk. “Okay don’t panic! They’re probably still around here!” She pivots, looking around, deciding which way to go first. Husk growls and runs his claws through the fur on his head.

“Where the fuck is Vaggie?! She would’ve handled this before it started!”

“She’s in the bathroom!” She screeches, already off to find Alastor.

Alastor’s foot was still on your chest, but its pressure had lightened. The ground beneath you was soaking your clothes, and the muggy air did nothing to help you gather much-needed oxygen into your lungs. 

Above you, Alastor is looking down at you with weeping willow trees and a dark, false sky as his background. Your hands were still on his ankle, but when your grip tightened, so did his heel.

“Ever heard the saying ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds?’” He purrs, leaning down, pressing you into the damp earth. “If I were to say, you took quite a big nip.” He looks down at his hand, the one you had originally seared off, now freshly regenerated. “You really wanted to show off that little trick in front of your friends? Well, I’m sure they’re very impressed! It’s unfortunate that I could s̗̰̹̉̊́͊͛̿̅͡ͅn̡̢͎̺̭̉͗͑͑ą̤̺̙̂͒͡p̷͓̟̺̪̰̗͗̆̐ ̨̡̺̭̀̃͞ỳ̶̰̱͈͇̆̇̽̍̒͢ỏ͏̧͎͓̭̎͊͗̈́͑ű̖̹̟̝͕́̐͞ȑ̲̭̣̘͔̰͑̈́̉̒͡ ̹͇͂̄͡͡n̳̞͇͚͐̃̀͗̕͞ḛ̮͓͉̹͖̘́̑ĉ̝̪̘̬̮̂̍͏̦k̷͇͙̿̋̀̐̚ ̗͓̟͆̅̀ͅb̧͎̱͉̏̓͝e̛͔͗́͆͜f̢̰̜̩͚͌̒̓̈͌̀̋o͏̼͇͎̏̿̒͠r̸̡̡͓̠̯̙͔͌e̵͉͆̈́̉̍̔͒̕ ͎̯̠́̕̚͢y͙̗͈͓̭͒̽̋͜͜ò̧͍̪̺̭͋̋͗͘͢͢u̴̴͎̦͓̅̿͠ ̵͚̤͊́̄̓̈͞h̸̟̬͓̜̒̏͒̆͞ȁ̛̼͚̦͢͞d̸̡̦͇̫̃͆̇̇̃ͅ ̫͙̗̫̓̉͘͡͏̗͏ţ̨̹͖̼͖̓h̦͉̭̼̹̻̋ȇ̡̗̘̣̔̌̾́ ̮̠͍͈̖͂̈́͗̿͠͞ͅạ̶͙͐͊́b̯̄́̐̊̾ḭ͏̟͔̖̝̜̑̎̐̽͟l̷̞̱̭̜̄̚͟i̵̵̱̖̋̂̐̽̏̈̾͜t̗̠̰̂̍͌͜͢y̛̯̖͙͋̽̚ ̵̧͚͎̟̌͠t̲̗̺̘̹͂̕͝ȏ͔̺̘̾̃ ̰̺̳͇̭̺̀̑̈̆̀ͅṟ͖̬̮̂̂͆̍̓͏͈̈ė̢̛̟̫͔̏͊͛͗͘ͅv̡͓̖͖̅̋̾̅͢͠ě̶͇̣̫̹́̈̄̒̎͡l̵̢̫͕͇͇͇̀̋͟͡ ͉̮̜̗̆̽͗ͅį̷̹̗̅͊̒͜͡ṅ̛̮̮͙̱̐̇͢ͅ ̱͇͈̦̈́t̨̹͓̊͑̉̇̅̇͟h̦̙͇͔́̉͂e̵͔̙͚͖̯̮͂̂i͖̻̜̻̖̒̈́͟͡r͎͈̘̤̍̂̂̍ ̢̨̂̒̉̍͞p̴̱͓̀̎̀͆̍̍̕͜r̷̩̩̜̟͆̑̈́a̦͓̓̓́̆i̷̶̫̪̫̦̗̾͛͗͢͢s̮̩͖̘͆̓̾̓̒̚ẹ͙̅͐͋̚̚!̴͎̫̤͂͌̀͐̑̈́͡ ̢̙̥̹̬̗̪͓̼̈̚͏Á̴͇͍̳̫͉̘͋͑͘H̶̸̲̻̝̐̏Ȁ̙̦̌̋́̚H̪̹̭̓͐͑͞À̵̸͇̲̳̒H̢̹͏̜͖̥̀̉͘͝A͂̽̀̈́̆́̈́͠!̶͎͔̜̲͕̔̋̌̐͡”̵̴͇͓͇̠̩̩̑̽̓̊

Around him floated those familiar green sigils, and fear began to creep back into your bones. For all the confidence that you had earlier, it’s like you were transported back to your first scuffle with him when you had just burned his hand. And now…

“Tell me, what’s your plan now? Is it to, how does your generation say it, kick my ass?” He laughs to himself, the idea bringing him the greatest amusement. Though your anxiety is growing, you take the opportunity to try just one more hit.

You quickly lift your hips, planting one foot for stability, and swinging the other up and into the air, foot aiming for the back of his thigh.

Once again, it’s a hit.

But this time, there’s a light again, and you hear more sizzling. You’re able to kick Alastor a few feet away, and hurriedly twist your body over and scramble up onto your feet. 

“HUZZAH!” You shout, laughing a bit in surprise at something finally working. You step back when Alastor’s neck snaps towards you . His grin is even tighter now, wrinkles creasing across the glowing x on his forehead. 

“Ahaha! Now this is quality entertainment~,” He growled as he spread his feet, getting a sturdier stance. He then paused and looked at the back of his leg, where a hole had been burned into his pants. You also paused, bringing a hand to your mouth. For some reason, this felt worse than what you did to his hand, but you also couldn’t help yourself from laughing. Not so surprisingly, he gave a hearty chuckle towards it as well. Whether it was genuine or not is debatable (as always).

“Hm, guess I’m due for a trip to the tailor.” He gives a small bow, extending a hand. “Would you mind accompanying me once I find the time?” He tilts his head coyly.

“Uh- are you serious?”

“Haha! No!” He teleports in front of you and you throw another kick, and your foot hits nothing but fog.

“Asshole!” You barely get the word out, too busy trying to keep up with the overlord. You keep punching, and he keeps teleporting– your clumsy fists yearning to hit something solid, but the next time you do feel him, it’s his hands on your wrists again. Your back hits the ground, and you scramble to rise before he puts his shoe on your chest again, but it turns out he had decided differently. 

Both of your wrists were pinned to the ground with one hand, claws in the earth, caging your limbs. He wasn’t directly above you; that would be too personal for him. Instead, one of his knees was at your side, and his other leg was bent with a foot next to your chest.

“No struggling? Come on, where’s that fight you were just so excited to present to me?”

Being so close to him made you realize he had a really subtle growl to his voice, even when he was speaking this lowly. It’s not always like that. After all, his voice was made for radio. It was smooth, almost seductive, and you’re pretty sure he knew that. So when he spoke without the tone he constantly used, you could only assume…

“Are you…having fun ?” Your eyes widened with hope to grab the conclusion out of your ass and run with it. 

Alastor’s face after you asked him that question had a striking resemblance to that one Pikachu meme.

“Is that why you haven’t killed me? Or like, hurt me super bad like that time you broke my hand?” Perhaps if you just continued to gaslight, you would get your way out of this situation.

“...Are you jesting with me?”

“Are you jesting with me, Alastor?” 

“Ohoho, my dear, I pride myself in my witticism, so trust me when I say you would know if I were joking.” Venom had begun lacing his words, flowing from his tongue like water through the cracks of mossy stones. “Do you think I was joking when I shattered those delicate phalanges of yours?”

“No! But! This is different, right?” You clear you’re throat. “I mean, we’re besties right?”

“I recall you saying something similar to our friend Husker. Tell me, how lightly of a meaning does that word hold to you?”

“Um, irrelevant?! Even if we’re not, you’re…you’re excited! I can tell! For once something is obvious with you!” You spat back, raising your voice to reinforce your bluff. 

His face scrunched, eyebrows twitching downward, but not holding the form. Then, he gave a sharp huff, like an annoyed teacher would to a child who spoke too much in the back of a class. He was looking down at you like he always did; that familiar haughtiness, topped with a classy superiority that made you want to let his cruelty slide. Even as he rose, standing to his full height, his gaze grew stronger, and the size difference only helped to emphasize what he saw when he looked at you.

Prey, of course. There’s no doubt about that. But now, something else was drawing his smirk less tight, his eyes less sharp. Even if only by a minuscule amount. 

“You are proving to be extraordinarily recalcitrant, even when with those you aught not to be towards.” With that, he snapped, and you felt yourself drop through the ground, an inky black darkness encompasing you in an instant.

Just as soon as you felt yourself fall, you were back in the middle of the hotel’s lobby. Even though your immediate instinct was to look around, you were met with nobody gazing back in the room– you could only hear someone off in the distance. They were casual footsteps approaching from down the hall. 

“Charlie, I think the toilet is clogged. Don’t tell anybody but it wasn’t Niffty-” Vaggie emerged from the door, pausing at the look at your disheveled appearance. “Um, where’s Charlie…and are you okay?”

You give her a shrug.

Here have a treat for my month long absence

Chapter Text

A tableau fit for a painting;

Twilight mist cast a filter of blue hues across the scene, filling in around the mystic glow of lightning bugs and The Radio Demon, who stood in the center. In the background, rows of drooping trees cascaded along the infinite horizon of the pocket dimension, swirling deep into a subtle vertigo.

His sharp chin was tilted down, causing the scarlet tufts of hair dipped with black to fall forward into his face, though not enough to obscure his piercing gaze, which stuck like sap to the disturbed dirt. The ground was still shaped in the form of the human who had previously lain before him. Though now an omitted presence from his domain, their scent of cinnamon and sweet blood had already seeped into the land– into his mind.

From the waist down, Alastor had returned to a closed stance, while his upper half was left unguarded, almost casual with his arms at his side rather than tucked behind his back or holding his cane.

“ Cleaver little human. ” He articulated carefully, a thoughtful cadence inflected upon each syllable.

Was it truly that obvious?

No, it couldn’t be. As if those puny ears could hear the concussive thrumming of his dead heart. Nor could those pitiful, fluttering eyes focus upon the subtle tremble of his jaw, which hid rows of sharp, clenched fangs.

Under the buzzing adrenaline, there was the nagging annoyance that you could weave through his facade and call him out on it, though he also suspected you were taking a wild guess.

A leap of faith on the belief of something so silly….

And with me no less

He let a soft, mechanical laugh fall from his lips, so heavy it could almost be heard hitting the ground. Then, juxtaposing the involuntary slip, he threw an arm towards the trees to his right, sending them snapping from their roots, or straight in half, and flying to collide into the next with deadly force.

“Hmph.” He straightened up his sleeve, then his tie, and began to stroll back to his hotel room.

“I’m not even hurt.” You say, trying to squirm out of Charlie’s ironclad grasp. She had the first aid kit open and ready, but now she was zooming around you like a hummingbird scanning for injuries.

“Huh, I guess you’re right. You don’t have any bruising or…or anything!” Charlie's eyes were as big as saucers as she looked over your body. “The fact that he didn’t…this is a miracle!”

“Yeah, seriously. A fucking miricle.” Vaggie grumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This goes to show, once again, might I add, that that bastard does whatever he wants and-”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Charlie interrupts, hopping up. “Maybe this is a sign! More than a miracle!” She starts pacing around the carpet in a circle. “This proves he’s getting better!” She squeals. “Omg, what if– WHAT IF! HERE ME OUT I CAN SEE THE DISAPPROVAL IN YOUR EYES VAGGIE AND HUSK! What if…the hotel is working on him as well!” Her lips are pulled back to show off all her pearly whites, her eyes squinting just to accommodate her obvious joy.

“I think that’s bullshit.” Husk grumbles, throwing back his head to chug his drink.

“It is not!” Charlie rushes, trying to shut down the doubt. Vaggie puts a hand on her shoulders to calm her.

“Charlie, do we really think that he’s changing? I’m 90% sure he just decided it wasn’t worth his time. Or maybe he had some weird overlord shit to do. Either way, I doubt it’s mercy.” She gestures to you. “Let’s just…ask them what they think.”

All eyes turn to where you’re sitting on the couch, awkwardly.

“Um, I don’t know. I think we were just…joshing around, like buddies?”

“Okay nevermind, they’re pissing me off too.”

“But-”

“Charlie,” Vaggie turns back to her girlfriend. “Maybe a bit of separation is best for them. It’s like we’re dangling meat in front of a rabid dog and expecting it not to bite.”

“I am quite sexy.” You strike a glamorous pose.

“...”

“...”

“Anyways! We can always talk about this over tonight's dinner! Speaking of which, Vaggie and I are cooking tonight!” Charlie chirps and points her fingers at the other woman.

“What about lunch?” You ask, feeling hunger begin to prod at your insides. 

“Today is fend-for-yourself Tuesday! There’s tons of food in the kitchen!” She claps her hands together and sighs like she has come to a decision. “Anyways, now that you’re okay, Vaggie and I are going to rewrite what was supposed to be today’s activity to NOT revolve around our only patron who’s a drug addict! Since he’s, well, not here!” She pivots in a goofy, mock soldier’s march. “LET'S GO CHANGE SOME LIVES!” The two head off with Charlie at the forefront of their line, knees rising higher with each step, and her hand around Vaggie’s wrist to keep her in tow.

“Change some after lives…” Husk quips under his breath, words muffled slightly by his arms, where his muzzle was currently buried. You turn yourself towards him.

“Husk, are you drunk again?” 

“Heh,” he huffs bitterly, “no, unfortunately. M’not even tipsy. Just started drinkin’ after we got your ass back here.” He takes a lazy swig, barely lifting his head.”

“Wow, what made ya wait so long, big guy?” You ask playfully, turning around on the couch and leaning on the back to look at him. His eyes meet yours briefly, and then dart away.

“Whaddya think?”

“Wild goose chase for yours truly?” You smiled. He didn’t reciprocate. 

“I coulda drank durin’ that, dumbass.” He snaps. He seems to immediately regret his tone, ears drooping at the base with guilt. Or perhaps embarrassment. “I just mean to say, as if I would drink while-”

“While they were in such good hands?” Alastor purrs, suddenly sits next to you at the bar in front of the cat, legs crossed with a Cheshire grin. Husk’s face scrunches, but he seems too tired to give a huge reaction.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the devil himself…” You murmur, hunching closer to the couch like a cat resisting pouncing and slowly pointing up to the demon for extra emphasis.

“Oho! If only I were that notable,” He waves a hand in a humble gesture, “though I would say I’m rather close.” He hums, putting his hands in his lap.

A few beats of awkward silence pass. You open your mouth to ask Husk if he wants to come with you to go to lunch.

“Anywho!” Alastor barks before you can start your sentence. “I came down here to fetch you, (Y/n). I was wanting to know if you would accompany me for a light lunch.” He stood up, summoning his staff and resting his hands on the mic.

“Lunch? With you? Like we did that one time in the kitchen?”

“Goodness, no! I was wanting to bring you out on the town! After all, it has been a while since you’ve had some fresh air, hasn’t it? You’ve been cooped up in this hotel for a good few weeks now, you must be itching to stretch your legs!” Alastor himself was fizzing like a shaken can of soda, hurrying you along with his motions and offering his arm as he always does.

Husk’s tail lashes behind the bar, and his jaws part to say something.

But he stops himself, watching you agree to go with Alastor, and taking the other demon’s arm.

Alastor and you walked side by side along the cracked pavement of hell’s streets, your arms linked despite the resting unease in the air. The placement of his arm in yours was both a point of contention, as well as stability in this tumultuous environment. His suit was smooth against your arm, the freshly starched fabric providing a comfortable resting place for the crook of your arm, despite the demon that was wearing said material.

“Still nervous, are we?” Alastor asked, eyes still fixed forward. Your eyes moved up to him briefly, before returning to sweeping the surrounding area.

“I’m a human in hell, what do you think?” You snort, earning a small rumble of laughter from deep in his chest.

“Now, now, do you forget that I’m a force to be reckoned with around here? Anyone trying to get into the ol’ rough tumble with the radio demon has a rude awakening!”

“Mhm, yeah, I know, I know. Big bad radio demon blah blah-” 

“And there you go with that teasing!” He tilts his head back to laugh. “Aha, you’re such a silly soul! I’d say your humor is almost demonic~”

“And that’s why you keep me around?”

“Right on the money, my dear!” His response was so natural that you wondered if it was the truth. However, most things Alastor said were likely white lies, so perhaps there was some truth in his confirmation, but not entirely.

He turned to look slightly to the right, guiding you down the turn of the sidewalk, before slowly stepping to a halt. “And here we are! Today’s eatery!”

The building you were in front of had a glass entrance that was located at the corner, rather than in front, like one of those vintage diners. It connected to walls of maroon red bricks, lined with dusty white mortar, that stacked to the black overhanging roof. Bright pink neon lights were plastered across a background section of cracking white that spelled “ Bury The Hatchet!”. The glow stood out greatly among the darker colors.

“Indeed, the sign clashes horribly with the rest of the aesthetic, but it is compensated for by their exquisite food and flavorful cocktails!” Alastor opens the door for you and bows slightly, allowing you to slip inside the venue. He twirls in with a dramatic flourish, following close behind, and shutting the door in the next patron’s face. “Would you prefer a booth or a table, my dear?” Before you can answer, his hand finds the small of your back and takes you to the hostess stand.

“Seating for two, if you please!” He chirps, holding up two fingers. The hostess nods quickly, mumbling something hurriedly, and scurries off to show you both to your seats.

As you walk through the restaurant, murmurs bubble through the already seated customers. Their eyes are drawn to you and your companion, but none dare to stare for too long. You contemplate saying something to Alastor, but he is clearly aware and basking in the mix of fearful and curious attention you’re both earning.

“Here we are…” Your hostess squeaks, placing your menus and taking your drink orders. You both decide on water to start, and you’re both left to look at the cocktail menu to see if anything special catches your eye.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. It’s the first opportunity you’ve had to dine out since you arrived in hell. You scan over the menu, mumbling indecisions to yourself, while Alastor contradicts your movements by almost immediately putting the menu face down.

“What are you getting?” You ask, peaking over the laminated item. Alastor tilts his chin up, bringing it down to rest on the back of his intertwined hands.

“My usual, dear. The Sublime Savage Steak!” He leans back, folding his hands in his lap. “Quite a delightful meal, I might say. Perhaps you should try it as well.”

“I thought you said a ‘light lunch’.”

“Tis it not?” He says softly, faux ignorance floating around his words.

Maybe not for you…

You continue to scour the menu until you find your desired dish. When the hostess comes back to your table, Alastor orders his dish, and then yours for you in a chivourous explication. He then orders you a ‘Bashful Bloody Mary’, which you did see on the menu, but the description for them was ‘ A sweet twist on a classic, a savory, strong beverage. It’ll make your cheeks flush!’

“Just water for you, Al?” 

“For today, yes. I’m looking forward to a calm evening with a taste of Whiskey later~” He hums. “But I dare not deprive you of the exploration of this restaurant’s lovely drinks.”

“Sure…” You turn your head to side eye him, earning a laugh far too loud for the setting. Nobody turns to look. It makes you think that the Overlord is currently giving you the wonderful thing known as “scary dog privileges”.

Wow, wonder how much I could get away with like this. You huff in spite of yourself. Darn you, social anxiety, I’d be unstoppable without you. The Lord had to limit me…

“Anything interesting bouncing around in that pretty little head that you’d like to share with your esteemed company?” He leaned forward. “I don’t exactly have today’s menu to pick your brain.”

“Just a human thing, you wouldn’t get it.” You say, thinking more on the matter. “ So what would you do if a creepy guy came over here?”

“And did what exactly, dear?”

“Started being creepy! Toward me, because I’m sexy and irresistible!”  Alastor looks you up and down, lowering his lids.

“Mmm, simply kill them, darling. Or rip out their tongue, if they were being particularly crude. Then I’d kill them.”

“Hm…okay. Not bad.”

“Why do you ask?” He lowers his voice, leaning in even closer. “Does it give you pleasure to think that I’d protect you?”

“Pffft, whatttt, that’s not why I’m askinggggg~” You pause, leaning in as well, quickly adding “sowouldyoucauseyousaidyou’dkillthembutlikeindetailhowwouldyoupersaydothatotherthanthetongueripping–”

“H-here’s that drink for you!” The hostess sets the cocktail in front of you with a shaky hand. The chilled glass is cylindrical, filled with small ice spheres, and a rich red that melts beautifully into a light pink towards the top. The rim appears to be a mix of red and pink powder, sprinkles, but definitely not as sweet (perhaps spicy), as well as dripping, bloody chunks of meat skewered on a wooden stick.

“Excuse me, um, what is that?” You ask, pointing at the mystery meat.

“O-oh, this? It’s…um…It’s different every day, so I’m n-not super sure. I’m sorry, I can get the manager-” 

Alastor grabs the tip of the skewer and brings it to his lips. In one swift motion, he whips his head to the side, and the meat is gone. Your jaw drops, while he picks up his napkin and dabs the corners of his mouth.

“Very good, might I say. Perfectly raw! My compliments to the chef. Or, well, whoever pierced these lovely little morsels!” He chirped before waving off the employee.

You leaned down to where your lips could wrap around the straw and took a sip of the drink. Your face scrunched up as your palate was overwhelmed by the flavors of vodka and savory juices, accompanied by the aftertaste of something sickeningly sweet.

To say it was pleasant would be a huge overstatement, but you found yourself drinking more; the feeling of the weight on your tongue was…quite pleasurable. As you gulped down the liquid, you could feel your face flushing, despite there being nothing spicy about this drink – just pure, warm flavors and a sweetness that could rot your teeth, tickling at your throat.

But stopping felt like a sin .

Your nose was running, hands were clasped around the cup, moving up and down, as if stroking the glass would pump the juice faster into your drooling mouth. It was filling your throat faster than you could swallow, causing you to suppress a gag.

The sound of an interrupted frequency could be heard in the background of your scene– an indication of surprise; the unusual feeling of being caught off guard is experienced just a few feet away from you. The humorous thought of Alastor with a shellshocked look on his face bounced at the back of your mind, and it would’ve made you laugh if you didn’t have a straw shoved halfway down your throat.

Suddenly, a hand shoots across the table, gripping your drink and pulling it toward its owner. When you follow the movement up to his face, you notice that his eyes are almost as wide as you pictured they could be. He looks like he froze mid-frame in a cartoon during a serious moment, but now that it has stopped, it seems like he’s about to say “oop.”

“That was…quite an effect that that had!” Alastor comments, sliding the glass further from you. “Certainly stimulating!”

You sniffle, wiping your eyes and nose, before pressing the back of your hand against your face to feel the uncomfortable, unnatural heat boiling beneath your skin. You giggle a bit at Alastor and your vastly different reactions.

“I, um, wow, that was…not even that good.” You cleared your throat a moment later.

“And yet, there you were! Chugging away like a bear in honey!”

“I think that thing was cursed.”

“Embued with something magical, perhaps!” He tilts his head, ears twitching. “Usually the only effects of that drink are a slight flush to the cheeks, but slap my silly, it seems to have quite a larger persuasion on a human nervous system!”

“Yes, yes, so fun, now can I have it back? I wasn’t done.”

“Ahaha! No!”

“Excuse you , why not?! You’re the one who gave me a drugged drink in the first place, and now YOU’RE acting uncomfortable? Make it make sense.” His eyelids drooped, as if he were about to repeat himself for the millionth time.

“I do not need you embarrassing me at this fine establishment. I have a reputation to uphold. Thus, we must use simple manners, darling.”

You then watch your hostess get thrown out a window.

The demon who threw the girl, apparently in an ongoing rampage, picks up a table and prepares to toss it in your direction. Alastor turns his head in a full 180 rotation, eyes widening again to reveal ticking radio dials in the depths of his deep, red orbs. The guy quickly places the table back down, sitting with their hands folded in their lap, eyes cast far from Alastor’s.

You notice your unattended drink and subtly reach across the table to retrieve it, hand creeping against the tablecloth like an oversized worm. Alastor gives you a hell raising look, and you respond by mimicking the roughian's posture.

“Ahem, anyways, manners.” He nudges a tiny menu that has been sitting, neglected, in the center of your table. “I did not expect the drink to turn you into a harlot.” There’s a slight bite to the end of his words that you can’t seem to take seriously, though it is intended to represent the disgust he must be feeling. He then lightens up immediately, raising a hand to his mouth and laughing through his next claim. “I only expected some mild flushing to that dreary face of yours! While a smile is the outfit, some color is always an embellishing accessory!”

You look at the small piece of paper, the same pink as the outside sign, though it fit more in this context, offering a delicate dessert to the customer. You picked it up, folding it open facing Alasor, confirming this is what he wanted you to look at, before turning it back to yourself.

“Well- okay buddy, but what are you wanting me to do with this? It’s the dessert menu, I don’t even know if I’m gonna eat the food I’m getting for my meal.”

“And thus, a spoonful of sugar shall help the poison go down!”

“You’ve seen Mary Poppins?”

“No, is she in the Pride Ring? Sounds more like an Envy name.”

You roll your eyes and start looking for dessert

Chapter Text

Breakfast had become routine for you in the past months, and it was one of the things you never complained about too much. There was yummy food, you got to talk with your friends(?), and…

“Well, obviously, he could just be doing a lot of filming for Valentino, but it’s been over a week! And he won’t respond to any of our texts, so that CAN’T be good–unless he’s mad at us, or me, or me AND us–” She pauses for a big gasp, though her breath out is just more ramblings. 

Though stressed ranting from Charlie wasn’t uncommon, this specific topic was one that everyone seemed a little antsy about.

You couldn’t speak on Angel Dust’s behalf, but out of all the demons you’d met in this hotel, you and he were the closest. He was funny, surprisingly empathetic, and incredibly addicted to his phone (just like you! Wowie! Twins!). If he was gonna text anybody back that wasn’t that Cherri Bomb chick, you’d like to think it would be you. And currently, you were still on delivered for 10 different VoxToks…which was NOT normal.

“Couldn’t you go see what’s going on, Charlie? You’re literally the princess of hell.” You stirred you’re coffee while you awaited an answer from the anxious-looking girl.

“Aha, see I would but…”

“The last time Charlie attempted negotiations at Angel Dust’s place of work, things went stupendously horrible!” Alastor interrupts, raising his “Oh Deer” mug to gesture just how big of a deal that the incident had been. A splash of coffee had spilled over the edge of his mug from the exaggeration, so you could assume it was pretty bad.

If that weren’t enough, Charlie was physically cringing, curling in on herself as she thought about those past events. Alastor gave a subtle shrug, a wordless ‘meh, didn’t think you’d get THAT upset’, before sipping his coffee. 

“Charlie, I’m sure it wouldn’t be the same, especially if you know what not to do now.” You turned to the others. “Am I right, or am I right?” You hooked two thumbs at yourself with a smile.

“I THINK THEY’RE CORRECT!” Sir Pentious interjects loudly, standing from his seat. “I think that you should retrieve the spider! Who knowsssss what nefarious lies that cretin Valentino could be telling him! Jussssst as that backstabber Vox had done with me!” He shrank, thinking back to when he tried working with the Vees. “Oh, how horrible rejection is from those you admire. It shall sssssimply destroy him.”

“Why are you making it sound like a breakup? And like you regret it. Fuckin’ traitorous towards us?” Husk growls, though his mouthful of grits makes it a bit less intimidating. Sir Pentious is still quick to clarify. 

“Tis NOT what I intended! I am quite content with my place at this essstablishment! How dare you suggest I try to go back with those beasts!” He huffs and sits back down. “I am merely to say that they are evildoers, and not the amazing kind that I, Sir Pentious, am associated with!”

“No shit Sherlock,” Vaggie grumbles, “but neither is Alastor and we keep him around.” 

Alastor’s ears twitch, and he gives his little “hm~”

“Okay, guys! As much as I’m loving the enthusiasm, like seriously, amazing hype that we’re getting, LOVING it– I do not think it is a good idea for us all to show up. If it’s not just one person, if it’s ALL of us, that might overwhelm him. Or, disrupt the studio! You see,” She walked out of the dining room for a moment, then returned with a big white board and a plethora of colorful dry erase markers, “I was thinking we could all make a little video! You know, to show our support and let him know that we’re here if he needs anything!”

“...A video?” Husk questions.

“A video!” Charlie chirps.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Alastor’s brow furrows slightly, head cocking to the side.

“Ah ah ah, I remember making a little promise with Ms. Vaggie to never ask me to be in another one of those awful videos again!” He waggles a finger. “And when I said never, I m̸͔̭͐̎̉̐̉̓e̷̱̪͎͂̒̀͢͞a̦̳̜̓̾̑͆̚n̝̖̞̙͋͂̏ẗ̙̜͛͢͞ ̮̤̙̣̞̌͟͏̮̓͜N̴̲̼̈́̔͒̓ͅÉ̡̖͉̙̣̄͑̍V̶̺̠̱̫̽̉̅̒̈͊ͅE̡̥̅̃͘̚͞R̮̭̠̈́̉̅–̡̢̛̼̱͗͂̚”

“O-okay, Alastor! That’s fine! That’s absolutely fine! Maybe you can write a letter? Or shout him out on your radio show? That would be a big help!” Charlie quickly interrupts, attempting to quell the demon before he throws another one of his staticy tantrums.

“WAIT TEA!”

“Huh, I thought you wanted coffee, dear. That’s why I brought you that with your plate this morning.”

“No, Alastor, I’m not finished speaking.” You clear your throat. “WAIT, TEA! We should do a call-out on his radio show! Less invasive, more persuasive, and totally persuasive!” You smile to yourself. “Wow, those all rhymed. I should be a rapper.” You point to Alastor. “My main man, hook me up after the podcast!”

Alastor blinks at you.

“Why, I didn’t think you’d be interested in such a thing.” He closes his eyes and leans back a bit, as though thinking through how to fit you into his schedule. “But I might be able to find time between my latest and greatest ‘Screams from the fallen’ and my jazz segment! Though I will expect something far more entertaining than a little bit of amateur poetry. If you’re going to maintain that level of mediocrity, I’ll need more compensation. Oho, but I never mind making a guest scream!”

“...”

“...”

“Why that face, darling? It’s as though you’re surprised! You know I broadcast the screams of the souls I collect!”

“It’s just…” You begin looking to the side, trying not to laugh or cringe.

“When you put it that way…” Charlie continues.

“Hehe, it sounds BAD!” Niffty finishes. She giggled and crouched down in her seat, allowing only her mischievous eye to show.

“Yes! That was the intent, my dears! I am the radio demon , and hearing the desperation– the begging for the sweet release of –”

“GUYS! Let’s get back on topic!” Charlie waves her hands around, pointing back at the board. There are now various bullet points and a few doodles of each of you. “We are wasting time! The sooner we get on that radio, the sooner we get Angel back!” She smiles triumphantly and looks to Alastor, pointing heroically. “TO THE TOWER!”

…

There’s a long pause.

Charlie holds her pose, tension in her body, but she has yet to drop it, waiting for Alastor to say something. Or do something.

You expect him to join the dramatics; you expect him to stand with a flourish and guide you to the radio tower where all his work is done, and yet he just sits there, without a hint of readiness or will to teleport you all to the assumed destination.

“Alasssstor? Is this another dramatic pause?” Sir Pentious asks slowly.

“Yeah, I thought we were in a rush.” You state.

“Oh, yes, but I simply must finish my breakfast before there can be any announcing of the sort. Then there are a few channels I wish to cover, which are already in the program, so it shan't be changed, and perhaps nearing the end, we can all send the message to our friend.”

“I- but Alastor–” a glare quickly shuts off Charlie’s attempt at reason. Though his grin holds steady, his eyes are no less firm in conveying that he will do his show his way. 

You turn to him and give him the same eerie stare he’s bestowing on Charlie. In a matter of seconds, you see a flash of black and feel something flick your nose. It makes you jump back into your seat. Then, the demon turns to you, eyes softening from a glare to a form of lighthearted mockery.

“Okay, if we’re gonna have to wait for a few hours, I’m going back to sleep.” You begin stacking up your dishes onto your empty plate.

“Shouldn’t you be on standby by dear? You’re so excited to rescue your little friend after all! Especially with those new, little powers of yours! I’m sure it shall be a great test of your skills if talking doesn’t get our dear attendant back!” Alastor finishes his suggestion with an almost encouraging shrug of the shoulders, like he’d be more than happy to see what you can do.

“Oh, I’m sure there will be no need for violence!” Charlie chirps. “Even though we are all excited to see what your amazing new powers do (Y/n) – which by the way, I’m so SO sorry I haven’t been able to ask more about it’s just with all the stuff happening–”

“Charlie, it’s fine.” You watch her exhale in relief.

“Good…good! Great! Alright! Game plan! Whoever wants to come help script our message can come to the living room, and then after we record, we can wait for Angel to get back and (Y/n) can show off their cool powers!” She holds up both her thumbs and lightly nudges you off, mumbling cheerfully about rest and potential and whatnot.

You drop off your dishes in the kitchen before heading to your room for some preshow napping.

The familiar darkness engulfed you as you slipped into your dreams, a thick, heavy blanket of moonless space wrapping you into its world and holding you tight in its grasp. As you floated, your eyes scanned the unlit void around you, but there was no place for your feet to land like there usually was.

You had grown accustomed to landing atop a platform of shaded blades of grass, accompanied by an accumulation of fireflies illuminating the obscurity. However, you were suspended without purchase, as you were months before your dreams developed and morphed into something more tangible.

You wiggled your fingers experimentally, then lolled your head around in a subconscious effort to find the familiar space. Still, nothing was above, nothing was below, and nothing was close enough in front of you, or to the side, for you to see.

That was until you noticed a faint, glowing light caught your eye from above.

There they are , you thought to yourself, as a few of your glowing little guys descended into your outstretched hand (their favorite docking port from what you gathered), flickering softly in a soothing, rhythmic pattern. A smile crept onto your lips as the fireflies welcomed you back to your dreamscape.

Unfortunately, the contentment only lasted for a moment. After crawling about your hand, as though prepping you for the warning they were about to present, the flashing of their abdomens sped up, and a few of the creatures flittered away from your hand to the space several feet ahead of you. Their flickering lights swam through the ocean of black, weaving around each other, and leaving streams of light to trail along their previous paths. The bugs’ lights grew brighter and brighter until they finally parted, leaving behind a small amount of residual light. As soon as that faded, a pink, glowing orb began to spark into existence right in the center.

It blossomed into a glimmering swirl of pink and dark magenta hues, undulating constantly between the two. Colors spilled around it into the open air, but kept its core strong and glimmering with palpable energy. It didn’t flicker or falter (surprisingly), and kept a steady, stable form. Even so, you felt its presence deeply, and knew who it was– you could feel it. 

Somewhere deep in your heart, you could feel that orb was a soul.

Angel Dust’s soul.

It was like vibrations from your core– the feeling of just knowing how he was feeling, what was happening. You could hear, feel, everything but see Angel Dust’s crying, mumbles, and the awful presence of something in the back of it, fueling the awful, distressed-filled aura. The air around it was chaotic, and whatever was happening to him filled your mind and body like thick, suffocating smoke.

Another glow sparked as the fireflies returned to you. It was out of the corner of your eye, but there was a bright, angry, crackling green from down at your side. You felt burning around your wrist, but it couldn’t compare to the emotional pain you could feel knowing what was happening to Angel.

You felt something wet and warm running down your face, and then your hand. The fireflies’ flashing alternated between fast and slow, and you could feel their tiny legs on your wrist and fingertips, buzzing and pressing close.

When you finally looked down, you watched as the charm bracelet that Alastor gifted you slipped off your bloodslicked hand and plopped to the invisible floor that was now beneath you.

The fireflies kept around your wrist, swirling in a ring of their own light, before dispersing to the space in front of you. They slowly floated to where Angel’s soul was floating, the sound of their buzzing almost sounding like a beacon. Slowly, you put one foot in front of the other, moving forward to the pink and white lights ahead of you.

As you walked, the lights only got further, but you were no less discouraged to reach them. Your legs were moving, but you felt swift, as though you were floating through water; an invisible current pushing you forward.

The only caveat to this journey was the burning around your wrist and a tug in your soul that you were also leaving something important behind.

And yet, you didn’t turn. Even as the pulsing feeling of bayou mud and swinging jazz grew distant, you were pushed forward by the smell of sweet powder and thrumming ache. 

And then you blink….

And…

 You’re on the street.

There was no peaceful awakening in your bed like usual, no fading back slowly into the real world; you were just back now. And definitely not in the hotel. It was just darkness to hell’s streets in less than a second, with its blood-curdling screams and flashing lights assaulting your senses and leaving you extremely overstimulated.

“I…what? How did I…” You sputter, looking around frantically. “Ah– oh fuck–” Each time your head whips, you’re overcome with a wave of sickening nausea, and your jelly legs do nothing to stop you from falling straight over. Your arms, though weak, managed to grab the brick wall of the building right next to you and keep you from tumbling to the sidewalk. “Urgh…”

Your head was splitting, and you felt like a bit of a mess, but it was obvious you were out here for a reason. Even if you didn’t remember leaving the hotel, or how so much blood got on your wrist–

WAIT MY FUCKING WRIST–

You raise your hand to inspect the wound, memories of your blood dripping down your hand like a rushing river flooding back into your mind. Except the sight was rather tame, and your wrist was only glowing a soft red, as though it had been slightly agitated.

“I don’t think…now that makes me wonder if I have some weird healing powers or something.” You contemplated the thought for a few seconds before turning back to the direction you had been walking in when you came to. There was that same achy feeling in your chest that you had in your dream, pulling you forward to where you could still sense Angel Dust’s despairing soul. 

 “Oh well, ONWARD!” You push yourself off the wall and continue forward. “I swear there’s no way a person in their right mind would be doing this. Mayhaps I can text–nope, phone’s not on me.” You grumble, slowly getting out of your stumble and finding a rhythm that doesn’t make your body scream. The pain was quickly fading from your head, and all you could do was continue along.

It felt weird. 

Logically, if you were going to do this, wouldn’t you have grabbed Charlie, Husk, or hell, even Alastor to come back to you? Your powers weren’t even consistent. This was a horrible idea.

But it felt right.

In your heart, in your soul, you felt more fear at the thought of turning back to the hotel, rather than pushing forward. Almost unnaturally so.

Hell is definitely making me go insane. Oh well, guess I’ll fit in better

“Charlie, dear, I simply don’t have the space.” Alastor leaned forward, lowering himself to better meet the princess's eye level, and purred softly. “All…what, six of you? In my humble little tower? Why, it would simply not do!” He shook his head softly, turning dismissively.

He had agreed to the undertaking before, but after further consideration, he wasn’t so sure he needed the group of demons poking around his precious place of radio creation. A work space, yes, but not just a work space. It was one of fantastical wonders and horrific, hair-raising cinematography. 

Not “friendly shout-outs.

Charlie, however, being the optimist she is, continued to push.

“We only need the space for ten minutes tops! I promise!”

“That’s already ten minutes too long, child!”

“Alastor,” Charlie takes a deep, calming breath, a genuine, but strained smile, “I think it’s so nice that you have boundaries about your space, especially one where all your work, hobbies, and afterlife take place– I’m not trying to invade that OR dismiss that. However…” She clasps her hands together in front of her, “When you tell us that you plan on doing one thing, and then tell us you won’t let us do that thing, it gets our plans…a little…just a teensy bit rattled. And like I said, it's just TEN minutes, no more!”

“Oh, yes, of course, ten minutes, you say. However, that would involve setting everything up, taking everything down, and perhaps any edits that you or I have for that so-called script, bringing the total closer to thirty. And you know I’m not a fan of rushed productions, it is simply not my style.” He sat back pondering his next words. “And our little human has yet to arrive. I couldn’t possibly begin without our best employee~”

“And here we thought Niffty was in running for employee of the month,” Vaggie grumbles sarcastically. The small demon was sweeping up scrap paper that had been tossed onto the floor in Charlie’s rush while simultaneously trying to squash a fly with her broom. “Alastor, (Y/n) will be here in a second.” She scoffs. “As if that matters! You won’t even let us start setting up in your tower, and if you’re that concerned about time, shouldn’t we get started?” The last part is through gritted teeth, her sharp, pale eyes glaring into his soul.

Alastor merely looked over her, his height giving him the ability to avoid her gaze directly. He then walked over to Niffty, placing a hand on her head to stop her from running around.

“Ahaha– yes sir???” Niffty squeaks, arms flailing with energy.

“Go ahead and tap on (Y/n)’s door. Our discussion here is over. We shall set up right here.” He lets go of the girl, and she speeds off. Then, he slowly raises a hand, and with a loud ‘ snap’ , various antique equipment appears around the living room.

There’s a large machine with moving parts and dials galore, and not a speck of dust to boot. A record player with a golden horn is now in the center of the coffee table, already spinning and playing calming jazz. A single carbon microphone stood tall atop the hotel’s carpet, leering over the shorter members of the group; its presence was similar to Alastor’s in both stature and aesthetic.

Alastor’s eyes lazily shifted over to Charlie, observing her starstruck expression. 

“Ooooo, Alastor! This is great! Sorry for pressuring you, we just thought that you weren’t gonna let us on the show at all!” She claps her hands together, turning to address the group. “Okay, everyone! We can go over these scripts one last time,” She looks back at Alastor, raising a hand to him, “And you can do whatever it is you need to do before our segment! Didn’t you have a few other things to show before us?”

The Radio Demon lets himself bask in the awe for a moment before opening his mouth to respond.

“Mhm, there was–” He paused as Niffty scuttled back into the living room.

“Sir, (Y/n) isn’t in there.” She states, slightly out of breath from rushing up and down the stairs.

“Aha, are you sure, Niffty? You know how humans love their small spaces, they could be under the bed or whatever gimcrack allows the activity.”

“Oh! No, but I figured they’d just be in the bed, where they were supposed to be napping.”

On the outside, the demon could be perceived as thinking about something, lightly pondering an insignificant idea. But on the inside, static began to thrum inside his soul, searching, wading through connections he had through various magical means to pinpoint the bracelet he had given you. Just a base-level search.

And as he suspected, that pulse of magic was still in your room.

The low vibrato of his magic in the charm bracelet he bestowed upon you as a tracker was still there, exactly in the same spot he had sensed it when you fell asleep. Though before he could dismiss the others’ worries, his mind let another sense slip in. It was only one wiff, but it was unmistakable.

Blood…

That signature tang of sweetness on a base of a metallic sea, he found his lips parting slightly to let it in, despite the smell only being presented to his brain. It was instinct. From the outside, it looked like he was just in the middle of a thought, disingenuous words about to flow from his lips, even when he was absorbing something; an opposition of perception.

“...Alastor?” Charlie said tentatively, trying to urge him on to speak.

A calculated response was required.

After all, even if any demon in their right mind wanted to get ahold of human blood, he refused to be grouped with the common scum that was 98% of hell’s population. 

He was The Radio Demon, after all. Refined, powerful, not stumbling over himself for a taste of blood. 

He’d have that on tap soon, anyway. He was sure of it.

“Hm, it seems our little human has wandered off.” He walks over to the set he’d implemented, head held high and heels clicking against the floorboards. Everyone else had already begun their tizzy, squawking and rushing to your room like there was anything that could be done about it now.

Unsurprisingly, he found it hilarious.

The distress of others was music to his ears, a beautiful symphony of background noise to his performance. There was a twinge of discomfort deep inside him, an uncomfortable feeling stemming from the soft creature being out of his sight, but he muffled it with the idea of delicious entertainment and the hope that some chaos could be stirred from the angelic powers bubbling under warm flesh and blood.

It was a very conflicting cocktail of feelings he had stirring inside him. And over one little human. If he gave it more thought, the notion would arise deep humiliation. Fortunately, the need for entertainment rose above the unnatural sense of lack of control and the frustration that accompanied it.

Ah, but there are other ways to peer into a room than through windows…

He chuckled to himself, eyes scanning over everything he had set up– an afterthought in favor of investigating (Y/n)’s room. He’d join them soon, but first, he had a radio show to begin!

“Salutations, fellow sinners! Another hellish day in Pentagram city, is it not? In a last-minute turn of events, it has been decided that we shall have some special guests on today’s program! But fear not, my dear listeners, for we shall still have the regularly scheduled programming of screams and delightful jazz, but with a dash of desperation at the end from our friends at the Hazbin Hotel!”

He pauses, whirling a finger to turn some of the dials on the machine.

“Now then, on with the show!”

Chapter Text

You didn’t know why demons were leaving you alone, but you could only assume that Charlie or Alastor made some sort of public statement. There were stares and lots of them, shining with hunger and sinister desire, but nobody was approaching you.

Whatever the reason, it made everything easier, so you decided not to waste any brainpower dwelling on the subject. Instead, you kept an eye out for signs and visual giveaways that you were heading towards where the Vees resided. The tugging feeling in your chest was your main compass, but you were trying to stay alert with your eyes as a backup.

You walked past buildings with broken windows, demons on fire, bleeding, or about to be killed, and so many people snorting down drugs, it made you wonder if they were as expensive as Angel Dust had insinuated they were. But when you began to see the bright lights of the entertainment district, you felt the slightest comfort blossom in your chest.

“Huzzah!” You whispered to yourself and began to pick up your pace. 

Glowing signs of pink and red hues decorated the streets, helping you stay on the right path. There were a lot of shops, people, and slightly less violence than you were used to. It had a marginally classier overtone to it, if you could even say that about a place in hell. 

The air was smoky, with less of that spicy tang you were forced to inhale, and music graced your ears over hidden speakers. It did little to muffle the sounds of violence, but it gave a nice cinematic twist that the past scuffles always lacked. 

Okay tea–

As you continued your walk, you instinctively felt for your phone. After a good amount of patting over your pockets, the corners of your mouth turned down at the realization that it was certainly left at the hotel in your sleep walk to find Angel.

Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. How am I supposed to be addicted to my screen when I don’t have access to it?!?! You thought to yourself. As much as you were enjoying the ambiance that hell’s scenery could provide, that itch to check Voxtok was still present, even in such an unfortunate situation as a rescue mission. Even in hell, social media still had its hooks in you.

A violent tug from inside nearly made you topple over, your feet stumbling out from under your own body. You looked in the direction where you almost fell, and there, embedded in the cement, are several buildings. Awe filled your soul as you took in the fantastical sight of the structures; the electric blues are complemented by warm reds and glossy glass windows.

Familiarity flickered in your brain as your gaze wandered over the TV screens, promotional “STORE” and “BAR” signs on the front buildings, and what you were almost sure was a strip club. This looked similar to the place where you got your phone, but less promotional and more suitable for genuine entertainment.

Crowds of demons funneled in and out of each structure, tripping over themselves in a frenzy to be the next one in. It was like they were hypnotized– some with the sight of glossy screens, others with the smell of beauty and sex, and even the demons running in and out of the boutiques seemed possessed with the need to be the best-looking one on the street with the latest fashion trend.

If that wasn’t enough to make your body ache with the urge to run back to the safety of the hotel, the tallest building would be the one to send you over the edge. 

Behind– wait, no, above? That’s gotta be their main base. Is that where Angel is, or should I check the strip club? Oh my god why do I feel so….

It wasn’t just the height that made your head spin, it was the sheer presence of power you felt from it. Alastor was the only demon that had made you feel this way, at least until now. Now you were gazing up at three neon “V” signs, plastered atop a mass of pristinely kept glass and lights. 

Somehow, the sight before you felt worse.

Perhaps it was due to your growing familiarity with Alastor’s fear-inducing presence, that thick, teasing aura that enveloped you like aged, bitter whiskey. The type that held its classic amber color, preserved by the crystal bottle it was kept in.

Distinctly timeless.

This type of fear was new, in every way possible. Like being plunged into clear, icy water in a tank lined with diamonds and filled with hunger stricken sharks. You were able to see the danger, smell the wealth, and feel the dread that came with all those things at once. Something distinctly human whispered within you, that old primal feeling that the new is wrong, scary, and bad—it was at the forefront of your mind.

You were forced to spend approximately 10 minutes with Vox weeks ago for that weird ass interview, and it turns out that was not nearly enough time to mentally prepare you for, well, THIS.

“Ah….fuckkkk,” You grumble, tilting your head and assessing the area around the tower, “how do I even get in there…” You would have happily avoided their base and gone straight to a more easily accessible store, but you felt a strong tug pulling you towards the place you wanted to go in the most. “Alright, alright, I’ve got this.”

You began to walk forward, pressing through the clumps of demons standing around. Some were in line, some were just chatting, but you were on a mission. Your size, for once, worked to your advantage, allowing you to slip between spaces that others would have to barrel through, and granting you access to a small clearing near a fountain.

“Huh, well….” You turn your head in every direction, now blocked in by the crowd and only being able to see the top half of the buildings you were originally looking at.

“God damn it all.” You grit your teeth and take a step towards what you think might be an alleyway.

“God isn’t down here, carino~ silly little thing, you must be lost.” A voice smooth as velvet purred from directly behind you. Warmth radiated from them, seeping through your clothes and into your skin as they pressed against you. “What is such an angel doing here, hmm~?”

Your jaw dropped, and you jolted forward, but you were held in place by multiple pairs of arms. Your eyes caught a glimpse of Antini, and a purple, sinister face peering down at you from far above.

Of course, the one overlord you had hoped to avoid was here. Of course, he wasn’t away, working on whatever despicable porno he needed to create. Of course, he had come up from behind and grabbed you, letting you feel that disgusting heat and smell whatever heady cologne he bathed in.

 There was no denying it. The overlord had you.

Valentino had you.

“Ahaha, okay, two people are now missing, that’s totally fine, no reason to freak out at all–” She pauses her pacing, turning to Sir Pentious, “You wouldn’t happen to have a tracker of some sort, would you?”

“Hmmm, perhapssss not, but I shall prevail with a new invention!” He begins to slither off.

“Oh, wait, Pentious, I don’t know if we have the time–” Charlie tries to catch him before he’s fully gone, but he’s already in his ‘invention mode’.

“ONWARD TO LOCATE OUR COMPANIONS THROUGH MY FANTASSSSTIC BUILDING PROWESS!” He slithers off, voice reverberating through the halls of the hotel. Charlie deflates slightly, but behind her, Alastor is tall as ever.

“Ah, 'tis a shame that my little invention slipped off rather than doing its job.” Alastor muses, sipping coffee. It was a bit late for the treat, and usually just a cup would do for him, but today he decided some indulgence wasn’t uncalled for. Especially when his favorite toy was missing. His working brain needed constant stimulation, and currently he was utterly bored.

“What was that?” Husk growled. Alastor shook his head in response.

“Oh, nothing, just thinking~” He chuckled into his glass, before setting it down. “Ah, yes. Such an eventful day. Who knows what will go wrong tomorrow! This is just so…entertaining~” His words flowed naturally from his lips, their lack of empathy, though not uncommon, was met with unwelcome looks and mumbled curses from the others occupying the lobby.

“Alastor, we know you know something about this.” Vaggie spits, stomping over to the demon, fists clenched at her sides. “All you do is sit here and watch us suffer– and for what? Entertainment?” Charlie steps forward in an attempt to defuse the situation, though even the princess has restraint, lacing each word.

“Vaggie, I know we–” Charlie tries to interject, but Vaggie ignores her presence.

“Enter- FUCKING- tainment! I’ll show you fucking entertainment!” Though her fists shake at her sides, she has yet to move. Alastor clocks this, his eyes darting up and down to size up the smaller demon before standing to his full height and leaning forward.

“My my, who knew you cared so much for the squishy, rambunctious human and the…harlot spider! It's almost enough to ignite my nonexistent urge to help you!” He laughs, his voice overcome with a radio filter, just for it to then completely drop. “Almost~”

“You know it doesn’t matter if I give a shit about them, it’s about their lives. They are people, Alastor, don’t you get that?”

“Why, of course I do! It’s what makes them so terribly interesting! Do you think I would be here day in and day out with all of you petulant, uncivilized ragamuffins if you were a robot? Ha! Heavens, no!” He twirls, facing the opposite direction now. “I, personally, don’t see what all of this fuss is about. Perhaps they have gone to a show after Angel Dust finished up his scandalous little activities! Or they’ve taken a stroll to the neighborhood cafe! Many, MANY safe possibilities!”

“In hell?” Everyone but Alastor responds in a deadpan tone. 

“Precisely! Nothing to squeak about, deer Vaggie.” He goes to pat her on the head, but she dodges with a harsh pivot. He lets out a staccatoed “hm” and sits back down to where he was originally perched. “All I am trying to get across is that all will work out in the end, I’m sure of it.”

“Doesn’t fucking seem like you are,” Husk grumbles, “Actin’ like ya don’t give a damn– that’s probably true for Angel, but what about–” Alastor’s head cricks to the side, and for a split second, there’s a warning glint in his eyes.

“Aha! Well, yes, as I said before, I do care about our dear employee and…the spider– but I refuse to be ordered around by those who think they can threaten the Radio Demon.” Objects around the room begin to shake violently as he trails off. A loud, crackling static rises and is abruptly cut by sharp feedback. “Let us say that I go along and play hero for this hotel of the damned…HAHA! The very thought makes me shiver with…ḑ̶̩̺̲͂̇̾̓̈͟͝į͚͙̲͓̮͍̚͠s͈̲̝̱͌̋͜g̸̷̮̠͙̦̙̉͘͟ù̵͉̭̠̓̄̓̂͝͝s̸͓̪̖̑͂̄̎̕̚͡͡t͉̦͎͐͋̌̓.” His ruby eyes widened, a feigned look of softness glazing over them. “But of course, lovely friends, if that answer is not fulfilling enough for your doltish–”

The radio static blares back with vengeance, startling the entire room.

“Simplistic, muttonheaded, asiengo–” Once again, it cuts, and he clears his throat. “Gloriously smooth brains…” He laughs to himself, though its gentle breathiness resembles a lifeless sigh of a corpse, “Well then, it is also because I do not wish to clean up other people’s messes. That seems to be the job forced upon me quite often, but when I say no...” He trails off, looking away.

With that, he exits the room with no less grace than a freshly groomed show cat. It was, however, unclear if he was leaving for another petty misadventure or if the conversation genuinely provoked him into storming out. Even Charlie seemed surprised on his dramatic exit (because that was less flair and more…bothered).

“...Well, that was…intense. Even for him.” Charlie mumbles.

“I think the boss does care!” Niffty chirps, jumping up and down. “He’s a gentleman at heart, after all!”

Husk’s tail twitched before lashing behind him. Just once. He then put his head down and dug his claws into the coffee table.

Alastor, however, had not gone far. He had stopped just around the corner of the hall; his ever-present smile was toothless, pressed into a line beneath squinted eyes and an arched brow. His eye twitched, and his hands clasped each other just a smidge tighter behind his perfectly poised back.

Then, like molasses spilling from a jar, something crawled out from behind him. An inky black replica of Alastor himself, with a grin formed more jagged than broken glass, and a dark air of whimsy.

It is doubtless that waiting shall have its effects…

Without turning his head, his eyelids lifted, 

“͍̠͉̯̘̭͉̀̒͌͢F̢͈̀͒͌͋͢ͅind ̨̢̛͎̤͍̙͆͆͋̕them̢̮̂̎͏͏͖͍̭.̷̨̘̣̰́̅͆̕”̴̡̰̱̄̅͒̊͒͑͠

“WOAH– WOW, jeez, hello there, you tall, mothy, Mr….”

“Valentino~” His own name left his lips like spilled honey, dripping with sugar and sticking to your mind uncomfortably. Your body moved with his as he guided you to face him, body inching closer to his with uncanny fluidity. “But you can call me Daddy if you prefer, darling.” The hand on your arm slid up to your shoulder, then your chin. His long, warm fingers cupped your face and forced your neck to crane back an uncomfortable amount to look up and into his red, hot eyes.

I feel like this guy is going to spew some red hot lies…yeah…yeah…hm those would make good song lyrics-

You would have tugged away by now, but something in your mind wouldn’t let you. It was like your body was trying to figure out whether to flee or just… relax all at once. It was a horrifying, confusing rush of adrenaline and tranquility fighting for dominance; a feeling of sudden heat and anxiety infecting your body and preventing a decision. Valentino noticed and smirked with closed lips. A low, amused hum rumbled in his throat.

“Uh, nah…” You said awkwardly, thinking briefly back to that one guy in court after he was asked if he was willing to do anything to stay with his girl.

“Aye, no? Hm… how about…Papi? That’s a popular one, heheh~” He laughed short and from deep within. “Mmmm, I would love to hear you say it–” He inhaled as he leaned in closer. A disgusting, pornographic, narcissistic sigh, chased by an exhale; the addictive scent of alcohol and nicotine, swirling with sugar and–

‘Click’... ‘click’ …

Something began buzzing in you; a second of subtle humming, before it cracked throughout your body like lightning, shocking your body back into reality with a cold, frigid snap. It made you jolt, confusing the demon, and giving you enough time to step away. Your vision glowed white at the edges, and something familiar, in the back of your mind, forced your focus back to what you came here for.

The frigid, mystical feeling quickly morphed into a heaviness that spilled into your chest and began pulling with a renewed urgency. The weighted compass embedded in your chest made you turn, and with a shake of your head, your eyes locked onto the glimmering glass tower with three huge Vees on the top. Out of your peripheral vision, you could see Valentino with his hands on his hips, his charming facade dropped. A sound you could’ve sworn was a sort of squeak as well– a literal squeak, like a toy– but the tugging in your chest was turning into a horrible ache.

The overlord visibly scowls (somehow with his entire body) and snaps in front of your face. 

“What the-hey, bitch- I mean,” He smoothly said, “Ahem, you like my house, Mi Cariño?” He purrs, sliding back into your personal bubble. “I’m sure you’d love to see it, yes? Perhaps…The inside?” His hands found their way back to your shoulders, one leaving briefly to touch your hair, before returning to its resting spot. “Mmmm, perhaps if I let you inside…you’ll let me into that pretty mind of yours.” He bends down at the waist, looming over you and breathing into your hair. “Just for a night, si?” He laughs again. “…y puedo comerte directamente…”

Okay, this guy is sketch as hell, but Angel is definitely in there, so I’ve just gotta hope for the best. 

“Uh, yeah, sure, let’s go.” You say, mind still trying to catch up to the situation you’re putting yourself in. The Overlord smirks and flourishes with his upper arms, guiding you with the lower ones.

“Of course, pequeño! Ah, I’m so excited to show you my home~ I hope you like to drink, yes? I’ve got many things to loosen up that…tight, delicious little body of yours~”

Beneath the flashy distractions of the district, twisting through the electric hues and smog-filled alleyways, an onyx figure creeps along the cracking brick walls . Under the shining shoes of VIP clients and lowlifes scouring the streets for a taste of pleasure, the Radio Demon’s shadow follows you into the lion’s den.

Chapter Text

The elevator ride up to the Vee’s penthouse, though not without its sexual innuendos, was less stressful than you expected it to be. Your fight or flight was still dulled by the sense of worry for your friend, but it was still present enough to tell you that you had to be ready to scurry away from Hell’s #1 pimp…

Or punch. Or bite. You were down for either.

“Can I get you a drink, cariño?” Valentino purrs as he guides you into an opulent room, adorned from top to bottom with animal prints, signature Valentino colors, and an abundance of sex appeal.

“No,” You respond instantly, “I just came to see the inside, like you said.” The lie was plain, but it was hard to think with that constant tugging in your chest. It was directing you downward; it felt like weights were trying to escape from your stomach to your feet.

This bitch really thinks he’s gonna drug me…NOT TODAY, SATAN!!!

Valentino doesn’t seem bothered by your short response and quickly calls for a drink for himself. His stance was lax, clearly knowing he had the upper hand if you tried anything. You don’t even know why he took you in so easily. You could only assume it was for something nefarious, but did he really see no issue in letting you, a stranger, into the Vees' headquarters?

Either he’s stupid, which is probably it, or he’s underestimating you extremely. Which, let's be honest, is definitely also the case. In a way, you can’t blame him. He’s over twice your size and could kill you in a second.

“Are you sure? I know you humans can be quite…como se dice… temperamental? Wouldn’t want you dying off in the middle of our…” He saunters over to a cabinet, opening a drawer, and pulling out a diamond-encrusted gun. He smirks, giving the chamber a spin, and then chucking it out the glass window. “UCK! I TOLD THEM TO THROW THAT FAKE SHIT AWAY!” He growls, turning back to you.

You shift awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t notice that you sprinted halfway across the room during his mini tantrum. The overlord relaxes, a charming smirk finding its way back onto his face. His shoulders drop, and he opens his arms for a hug.

“Aye, honey, baby, did I scare you? Daddy is so sorry–” He coos, approaching you. 

“WOAH–okay no I’m fine– I’m fine trust dude!” You screech, backing up. 

Not him trying to “where my hug at” me…ewwww

Valentino, being the sleezy demon he is, takes this as a further need for comfort.

“Ah, sweetheart, you don’t have to run from me~, I already know you, I’ll treat you well…very, very well.”

“Mmm, then mayhaps use my name.” You retort.

“No, no, see, I know you thanks to my sources.” He shrugs, allowing his wings (used to be coat?) to slowly fall down the slopes of his slender shoulders, and fall behind him.

No way…his coat is the same as his wings…NO NO DON’T GET ENTRANCED! That’s his tactic…grrr

“Well, I was on TV a few times.” You say, looking at the technology surrounding the room with subtle hints of Vox’s influence carved into each one of them. Valentino tilted his head, shifting his weight from one leg to another, softly swaying his hips. He was thinking about something a lot harder than you imagined a guy like him could, but if he was an overlord, you couldn’t let yourself think he only thought with his dick.

“Pffft, the TV you say?” He glides over to where you’ve been frozen for the past painfully awkward 5 minutes, and shoves you down onto the plush, hot pink couch with just his index finger. From his pocket, he retrieved a wooden pipe, brought it to his lips, and inhaled a slow, deep breath. The inside of the instrument crackled, like a fire had already been waiting–burning hot with a mix of whatever drug Val was ready to pump into his bloodstream.

“Ah…” The demon sighs, mouth turning into an open, thin smirk that allows the hot, crimson smoke to escape from between the sharp bars of his fangs. You refuse to inhale, choking back a cough that tickles with the smallest scent of the disruption to your oxygen. “Vox is not the only way I can gaze upon you, peqeño~” He places a hand down on the cushion next to you, leaning closer–

“AND HERE TODAY IS OUR LATEST UPDATE ON THE HUMAN IN HELL!!!” 

Vox’s voice cuts through the moment, sending the moth demon flittering off you, and whipping around towards the platinum, Voxtech, 100+ inch screen TV. It was a morning 666 news segment, and featured the tech Vee himself with a script, a cup of coffee, and a screen with your face on it.

“TOP OF THE HOUR AND WE’RE DISCUSSING A CERTAIN HUMAN WHO HAS BEEN SPOTTED CABORTING AROUND TOWN! SO THIS HUMAN IS SOMEWHERE AROUND! WHY ARE THEY HANGING AROUND? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN FOR YOUR FAMILY–”

Valentino grabs the remote and spams the off button, struggling to cut off the television.

“STUPID MOTHERFUCKING–” He screeches, throwing the remote at the television so hard that it not only shatters the glass, but goes straight through to the other side. Along with his curses and heavy, dramatic breathing, squeaks erupt from the angry moth demon, spotlighting his wrathful outburst– though as soon as the episode appeared, he visibly pushed down the emotions, smoothly turning back to you in a suave manner. It was almost comical, his mood swings, that is. 

You barely suppressed a laugh, tucking your lips between your teeth and averting your eyes. He, of course, takes this as you being shy. He chuckles lowly to himself and takes the “invitation” to slide right next to you. 

“Mmm shhh don’t worry, I was just watching that earlier for…inspiration.” He whispers the final part into your ear, forcing a shudder from you at the uncomfortable heat of his breath. “Now,” He purrs, placing a hand on your thigh, “why don’t we talk about–”

“VAL!” 

A short, sharp call cut through the room, along with double doors slamming open to reveal none other than Vox. He was huffing, lips turned down in an annoyed frown, though he approached rather calmly. He had clearly been expressing his pissy attitude on his way to find the other Vee, a possible attempt to calm himself from what might turn into a screaming match.

Your theory was further proved by the fact that his eyes were shut– sealed closed with gritted teeth, and fingers flexing in front of his chest. In turn, he didn’t notice that you were there.

“Val, why has my entire, highly trained marketing team been brainwashed into thinking that the next best commercial involves a FUCKING SEX SCENE?!” He screamed into Val’s face, finally opening those sharp, digital eyes. “I have HAD IT WITH–uh–” He turns, looks at you, and looks back at Valentino. “I…” He stares past both of you for a second, and then continues his ranting, “HOW IS THE FUCKING HUMAN HERE, AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO FUCKING TELL ME?!?!”

“Baby, I thought it would be fine~ Of course I was planning on bringing them around to you and Velvette later, but we’ve been having some private–” he gives your thigh sudden squeeze, smirking so wide, with eyes so cocky you’d think he was acting (of course he isn’t, fucking asshole), “one on one bonding. You know?”

Vox’s eyes dropped to Valentino’s hand on your thigh.

He inhaled, exhaled, inhaled again, and –

“Are…are you….ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS YOU–” Your jaw dropped at Vox’s words, some of which you didn’t even know could be used to be so damn offensive. Valentino’s smirk only twisted with delight as the man screamed in his face.

No way they’re doing their kink shit in front of me right now. You pondered; another laugh had to be sealed in your throat with a bite of your tongue. 

Even in this humorous situation, heavy still sat the need to find Angel, and so your attention strayed to finding a way out of this.

In theory, maybe I could just… A ridiculous thought of just walking out like a cartoon character without the notice of others, literally a foot away from them, slithered into your mind. Probably a bad idea buttttt–

You found yourself pushing off the couch, and with a not-so-graceful jump onto the floor (demon-sized things, how inconvenient), you were up, and just…walking away slowly?

There was, however, a small tingle in your hands, the same kind telling you where Angel was.

“Hehe, yes…magic powers…mwahaha.” You quietly cackled.

Your moment of self-congratulatory praise and arrogant talk about "smart bitch moves," however, made you completely overlook the translucent, shimmering wall of magic erected between you and the two Overlords. Beneath your feet, the same shadow that had been following you since the beginning danced; the umbra of the Radio Demon slipped away with you. It hissed, watching the fools argue while you easily escaped with nothing more than a simple ‘unmindful’ spell. Alastor’s shadow would be sure to plant more bouts of mischief around the tower to teach the dimwhits a lesson or two.

As you padded away unscathed, their words grew harder and harder to make out. 

“That bitch could make us so much MONEY.” Vox’s voice glitched subtly, like a lagging soap opera. 

“I know~ Such a perfect body, and a tiny human! So many kinks for that–”

“NO! DUMBASS NO! Not only are they a part of that fuck ass hotel the bitchy bimbo princess owns…”

Once you were far enough away that you couldn't be heard, you broke into a sprint toward the elevator. You quickly pressed the button and jumped inside without a second thought. Your hand shook with adrenaline as you fumbled to select the correct floor. Finally, you chose the 4th floor, pressed the button, and then hit the closed door sign.

The elevator music was as basic as the ones on earth, chiming along with the frantic beating of your heart. 

You took a deep, loud inhale–taking the breath to ground yourself and rest in the moment of reprieve. The numbers tolled down slowly, flickering in flashing lights.

7…..

6…..

The numbers stopped going down at 5.

“FUCK NO.” You slammed into the buttons, accidentally making them light up sporadically. Your finger spammed the ‘door close’ sign– even as the doors began to open, and the people outside’s voices became clearer– you kept hitting.

“Please, please please PLEASE–” The person on the other side pleaded desperately, mashing the open button on the other side of the opening doors.

“No, no, NO YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN HOE–” You scream in vain. The doors slowly parted enough for the female demon, dressed to the nines in romantic pinks and iridescent blue obsidian, to start squeezing into the elevator. 

The smell of gore hit you like a freight train; there was blood dripping onto the floor– the putrid, warm, metal scent filling the enclosed space, and yet… 

…No matter how hard you tried, all you could focus on was that outfit.

Even as you took in the gaping hole where her eye used to be, blood squirting out and pinkish grey brain matter sloshing down her face and onto the fabric, in a sick way, it highlighted the otherworldly beauty of this regalia.

“P-please let me—” Her stammering was abruptly interrupted by a sharp smack to the back of her head, causing her to collapse onto the floor. The hit came from a full bottle of what looked to be brandy, now shattered in half, which was spilled across the back of the girl’s head and now dripped onto the floor, mixing with the blood. 

“Useless cunt! I told her to straighten her damn back!” The one yielding the blow exclaimed from a few feet away. This woman was even more impressive than the dress of the one she had just struck down. 

She had dark skin and glowing red eyes that framed these beautiful, bright white irises. They were lit with fury, and yet they could rival the light of the fireflies you constantly saw in your dreams– her hair was in swirling pigtails, though she wasn’t dampened by the usual childish look they can often give.. The colors of her outfit matched her natural palette to a tee, and the black and soft reddish pinks only made you more hopelessly drawn to her.

She paused, glancing down at the broken bottle in her hand with an almost surprised expression, before casually tossing it aside. An assistant quickly moved in to clean it up with mechanical precision. Then, her attention snapped to you. Like a predator, she zeroed in and pointed, screeching, “Hey, you! Come here now!”

“Uh–me?” Your squeak, finger still tapping at the door's closed button. “Look, girl, I’m a little busy–”

“GIRL? WHO THE HELL DO YOU–wait, hold the phone–” she lunges forward, stepping over the dead body of her old employee. “You're that crazy little weirdo that has Vox’s panties in a twist, aren’t you?” She tilts her head dramatically, smirking, “Ya sure look like a human, and that seems to be the biggest factor of interest with you.” 

With a flick of the wrist, she snaps, and demons behind her begin scuttling around, grabbing measuring tapes and different fabrics, and barking orders to each other. Velvette hooked her arm around you, pulling you into the space, and gesturing to the world of fashion around you.

“See this? This is where I’m gonna turn your sorry ass into my next top model!” She chirps, releasing you and snapping a photo with her phone. “Alright, there’s the before picture…” She mutters to herself with a sly smile. “Absolutely tragic, seriously, it’s giving ‘middle class worker’”

Your eyes wander down to your clothes, the red worker uniform of the hotel still clinging to you. They were pretty roughed up now.

“Ah, what’s your name again?” She asks flippantly. You point at your name on the uniform, but she just blinks at you. You sigh, customer service stare appearing.

“(Y/n). And you’re–”

“Oh yes, I’m Velvette, the backbone of the Vees, blah blah blah, don’t act like you don’t know how fabulous I am!” She claps her hands. “Now! Let’s get you measured!” You put your hands up instantly

“Whoa, wait! Model???” You sputter.

The last thing I need is ANOTHER SIDEQUEST!

“Yeah, what else did you think I said? Are you alright in the ears?” She mocks with a scowl, snapping in front of your face. “You’re the new model, deal with it.”

“Ma'am, I don’t have the time–”

“Do you want me to call up those pathetic bitch boys to come have their lovers' quarrel about your uses as a human, or do you want to put on the fucking suit, and work it like it’s your last day in this shit hole?”

Behind her, antsy demons wait with fabrics and measuring tape. They look much more anxious than you could ever be, and that helps you resign yourself to your new job as resident human model.

“You know what? Make me bonita.” 

Along the shadows of the Vees tower, there crept an intruder.

Not you. A different trespasser. 

Quite different.

One that had crept along behind you, causing subtle trails of mischief and grief for the servants to clean before their masters noticed. The great sin of inconvenience; Alastor liked to think of it as a touch of rascality within the serious confines of the hellish prison.

“All these overlords”, Alastor would often muse, “though I am one, I hold myself to a different standard. After all, as the Radio demon…I am known for my whimsy~”

Alastor’s shadow had watched you escape the presence of those reched, filthy men who thought it was their place to hold you. It was the reason that you escaped so easily, though you didn’t seem to notice it was him.

“Silly human…” The shadow hissed, lowly. It was still near the two male Vees, and all it could do was creep along the shadows, glaring in disgust. 

Emotional…that wasn’t the right word for Alastor’s shadow, was it? 

And yet, here it sat, crawling along the walls and floor, crushing random, expensive-looking things to spite their owners. The only thing that pulled it from its chaos was the thought of you now being alone.

Was it a thought? A feeling? A yearning? Perhaps just a flicker of possession?

It was just a shadow. A demon’s shadow at that. It didn’t think about such things. And yet it followed the flicker of your soul; that pure, flaming connection his master had forced upon you, hissing with vexation that it was not currently at your side.

“So, what do you think?” Velvette asked, twirling you to face the floor mirror.

The image before you was yourself, of course, but clothed in a lavish suit of crisp polyester and silver details strewn through. It was a soft red, though far from pink; just enough to combat any harshness that the color usually brings to the eyes. The jacket lay comfortably on your shoulders, with subtle padding that enhanced your usual look of softness into a more commanding figure. Silver lines traced along the cuffs, color, and pant legs, connecting in the fine-drawn shape of Vs.

“I feel like a marketable plushie for your company.” You turn around, looking back in the mirror. “That being said, it does make my ass look fat…” Velvette takes in your look, snapping a few casual pictures of you admiring yourself on her phone.

“I would say it is one of my best works.” She tilts her head, walking around the platform you stand on to assess her work further. “You’re right, though, it’s a bit on the nose.”

The doors of the elevator open to this level, a few demons filtering out, and a certain, tall arachnid walking in. His shoulders were slumped more than usual, and he had a small limp. Various bruises and injuries became more apparent as the friend you’d been searching for approached.

“Heya, Velvette, Val told me to come to you if my costume ripped again and–” Angel Dust stops in his tracks, casual posture freezing into a rigid state of distress upon seeing you. “(Y/n)? …(Y/n)?!” Ignoring the limp, his limbs picked up the pace to get to you. “The fuck are you doing here, you-” One of his hands shot up to his black eye.

“Angel! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You reached towards his face. “What happened?! You haven’t been back in like a week!” He dodges your hand.

“Lookin’ everywhere?! Bitch, I’m at work! And this–” He gestures around “–this is the fuckin’ fashion studio! Not the porno set!” He spits, chest heaving. He didn’t answer your question and instead looked increasingly more paranoid; he looked like a rabid, caged animal. “You shouldn’t even be in here– in this building! What is wrong with you– You need to go–”

Velvette intervenes, shoving Angel Dust away from you. Her hands are on her hips, and her earlier lax expression is replaced with that familiar scowl.

“No way, they’re my best model yet! Not to mention the human shit they got goin’ on!” She looks back at you and gives you a wink. “I need more photos before they run off back to that ghetto ass hotel you call a ‘safe space’.” Velvette crossed her arms, pointing at the platform she had previously had you on.

“Wh– you’re not Val! You don’t have a deal with them, or me! We’re leaving!” Angel grabs your arm, trying to drag you out of the room forcibly. Velvette’s hand shoots out to grab your other limb, tugging you back. “Urgh! Let go, you bitch! You guys aren’t taking them like you did me!” He growls, yanking you towards him.

‘POP’

The sickening noise of your shoulder popping out of socket was followed by your own, piercing scream. Your knees buckled, and you fell to your knees

“OH FUCK–” You cursed, eyes welling up with tears. Both the demons released you instantly, and Angel backed off with a set of hands to his face–the others reaching out to you, but not quite touching. Velvette, on the other hand, showed less of a reaction. Her piercing eyes widened, focusing on you, though not out of sympathy.

“Hold that pose.” She said plainly, snapping another photo. “There we go! All done!” She walked over to the side, scrolling through her phone, while Angel Dust stood frozen.

“O-oh my god, toots, I didn’t– I didn’t mean to–” His chest heaved faster, a hand running through his hair. The others hovered over you, hesitating, but ultimately taking your unharmed shoulder and back. “C’mon, toots, you have to let me see, I know, I know it hurts, I’m so sorry.” His voice wavered as he looked over you, guilt practically radiating from him. “I…Charlie can fix it when we get back, or Vaggie or–” He stopped talking, looking away.

You both looked at Velvette, and she just waved a hand, signaling that you were free to go. Oddly enough, there was no hassle as you both exited. You and Angel Dust were ready to throw hands at the sight of any demon standing in your way, but nobody was trying to do that. You both walked out of the tower and into the streets of hell, just as you had before. Or, with a few extra marks now.

“You’re worse off than me, Angel. I’m worried.” You state, removing your hand from your own shoulder to touch his. The spider flinches, looking down as he guides you both out of the entertainment district. The humming lights and bustle of the city seem a bit softer now. Maybe it’s just the touch of Angel Dust’s fur that makes you miss your bed, but you can see it on him, too. You’re tired, but he’s…

“Don’t say that…” He mumbles before putting on a forced smile. “It was just a shit ton of rough sex, ya know? Ain’t nothin’ I’m not used to.” When he saw the unconvinced look on your face, he put more effort into the facade, gesturing lewdly with his body and limbs. Frankly, the way he tried to switch into his persona, while being beaten up was concerning. And yet he continued, “Oh, trust me, hon, I was cummin’ every second of–” 

“Angel.” You interrupted. Your eyes looked at him sadly, worse than the aching of your shoulder. He only looked at you once.

“Don’t…fuckin’...” He trailed off for a moment. “Don’t look at me like that…please, I can’t take that. Not from you.”

He didn’t say anything more after that, and neither did you. You sat in that soft silence, laced with anguish, fear, and tired sorrow. Your adrenaline was gone, and so was that feeling in your chest. If it weren’t for Angel, you’d probably break down right now.

In a way, you could sense his feelings as well. Same as you. You both were alone, but now, you have each other, at least for now. You leaned closer, letting your head fall onto his arm. With the top one, he pulled you in by the shoulder, and with the lower one, he reached for your hand.

You took it and squeezed.

Chapter Text

The air of the hotel felt refreshingly cool compared to the heated air that floated around outside in Hell. There was a murmur of conversation that could be heard from the foyer. Some floated above others, with a high-pitched, concerned inflection, others more steady and paced. Charlie’s was the former (you’d notice that hyper-optimistic tone anywhere), but once you and Angel Dust walked in, her speech softened into a gleeful sigh.

“(Y/n)! Angel!” Charlie chirps, her eyes glittering like stars, before the light dims with cloudy concern. “What happened? Oh my god–” She gasps, putting one hand to her mouth, and the other to her chest. “I…oh no I…” Tears begin to well up in her eyes. She was frozen between utter joy from seeing you both back in the hotel and despair from the injuries you both sported. In the end, she let the relief take over and ran up almost as fast as the tears were running down her face. “I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE BACKKKK!” She sobs, hugging you both tightly.

“OW, CHARLIE!” You yelp, pain shooting through your shoulder and down the nerves of your arm. Her grasp retracts like you’re made of holy water, tightening against her chest in obvious guilt. Her eyes scan you again, sadness flooding back in. You’re hit with a pang of guilt as well for making her worry, or even worse, feel bad because she hugged you.

Oh goodness, this poor sweet angel of a demon.

“Sorry, original gangster– I mean Charlie…my arm is kindaaaa,” you attempt to adjust your limp arm, but the only movement you get out of your body is a shudder of pain, “out of the socket…at the moment….heh.” You only now realize that you’re sweating from the pain. The stress from the intensity, though adrenaline still pumps strongly, soaks through the dazzling suit you walked in with, and makes you shiver from it mixing with AC. Charlie, ever the caretaker, notices immediately.

“Oh, wait, let me see that. Oh, you poor thing.” She starts to remove your suit jacket, fingers gently slipping under the shoulder fabric. “It looks fantastic, but I’ll ask you for the story later. Right now, I’m sure I can fix you up so that it won’t be bothering you nearly as much,” She turns to Angel Dust, the same compassionate look in those ruby eyes.  “You too, Angie! Your wounds are a lot more physical, so Vaggie can handle those with the first aid kit first!” She sniffs up her own tears, searching in her mind for more ideas to soothe you guys. “We can get you two some nice, warm drinks, and you can snuggle up on the couch– or your rooms if you prefer– and watch a nice, chill movie! I’m sure Nifty would paint your nails, too! Oh! Or…” Vaggie tugs her girlfriend back a step.

“Charlie, that all sounds great, but give them a second hon.” She says softly, gesturing at Angel.

You turn your head up at the referenced demon and see his usually animated face drained. His mismatched eyes held a tired weight, pupils darting around, as if he was trying to muster up his usual mask.

He moves further away from you and Charlie, leaning on the wall closest to the group, chin lifted with a smile that didn’t match those despondent eyes.

“Pffft, I don’t need all that soft shit,” He muses flippantly, “ I’ve just been gettin’ my back blown out. This one on the other hand,” he points at you, and attempts to laugh, but it sounds closer to a bark from a beaten dog, “they– damn they look like shit! And anyway, they’re human! Look at that arm there, all…” He gestures vaguely. “Gross and…and…” He trails off, closing in on himself and leaning further into the wall like he’s trying to sink into the crimson wallpaper. “S’my fault, just get (Y/n) some stuff to help them out, I’ll be good.” 

“Oh, Angel, you know that’s not true!” Charlie declares instantly. She walks closer to him, “I’m sure that isn’t your fault! Actually, I know it isn’t!”

“On the contrary!” The chipper voice of the Radio Demon rings out, cutting the tension with the joyful, overzealous tone. “My sources tell me this is completely Angel Dust’s fault!” His smile didn’t falter, his eyes lighting up as the room dimmed further. Those glowing, cherry-red orbs held malice, which wasn’t a surprise, since he’s Alastor, but something deeper was rippling underneath that ocean of radio interference.

Best to cut him off right now… You think to yourself, turning to him.

“Alastor, bestie, my main man, hashtag number one Radio Demon, please shut the fuck up.” You said, raising your hand, as if that would make a difference. “We have been tortured enough…so we don’t need the bullshit at this point and time. Can we reschedule for like a month from now?” 

“Crass as always~ Truly our (Y/n)! I am pleased to see that your little misadventure through that deplorable tower of lesser overlords hasn’t affected that unyielding human spirit!” He chuckles. “Oho! You never bore with that constant chaos!” Angel Dust doesn’t ignore the direct attack and responds forthwith, scowling in his own anguish being perpetuated.

“I already said it’s my fault, there’s no need to be a dick, Freaky face.” Angel Dust hisses, the words spitting into Alastor’s face like venom. He storms past the other demon, yet Alastor’s gaze continues to follow with an unnatural twist of his head, swirling around multiple times for dramatic effect.

“Oh, but I’m just making it clear what everyone is thinking! You endangered the most fragile member of our hotel, and for what? Extra…cash?” He questions, tilting his head and letting it unravel back to normal with a disgusting ‘snap’.

Angel Dust stopped in his tracks. His pupils shrank, and his posture became even more defensive. He pivots his body slowly to face back towards Alastor. He looked like he was either going to bolt or jump at Alastor. Both were less than desirable options, but Alastor’s prodding had hit a nerve.

Your mind swam with thoughts flying fast as fish downstream in the river of your mind. Most of those wriggling little thoughts were bad, but you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you could fight him this once and win.

Oh, you sadistic bitch…if my arm weren’t fucked up right now…

“Cash…? Cash?! Are you fucking stupid?! I HAVE to be there! Val owns MY SOUL! And they came after me! I didn’t ask for that! I was fine!” His voice raises, cracking with emotion. His face twists in distress– like talking about this is physically hurting him. 

“OOOOKAY–guys, let us take a breath–” Charlie starts, but Angel Dust continues, heaving out each word like a bristling weight in his throat.

“No–NO! It ain’t my fuckin’ fault! I would’ve protected them if they were with me, but they weren’t! They…they were wanderin’ around to find my ass! And I got them out of that shit hole when I did find them! So don’t you dare act like I left them for dead in that awful place.” He growls, putting a finger up at Alastor. The tension releases slightly from his body, his frantic eyes calming by the smallest amount as he focuses on his antagonist. Then he smirks with those same wild eyes and laughs without an ounce of true humor. “Heh, actually, this is real fuckin’ rich comin’ from you. Why don’t ya tell us what the fuck were you doin’? Sittin’ around, drinkin’ some blood n rum, watching them suffer with ya damn voodoo magic?”

Alastor rolls his eyes, sighing with a small ‘hmmm.’ Angel Dust keeps going.

“Pfft, can’t say nothin’, can you? Fuckin’ coward– you don’t give a shit about any of us unless it serves you.” His words were firm and full of confident spite, and yet his hands shook. Even the ones firmly planted on his hips could be seen squeezing with the faintest tremble.

“Well now! How the tables have turned here! You said I was stating the obvious, and yet here you are doing the exact thing! Quite the hypocritical statement, might I say!” He points a finger back at Angel Dust, swirling it and nearly touching his white fluff with his claw. 

Angel Dust jerks away, another noise of frustration escaping his mouth. He’s stuck, frozen in a loss of words at both the audacity and cruelty he’s facing. Even when it isn’t surprising whatsoever. Husk stumbles over, clearly drunk, but sobered up by the actions taking place.

“C’mon, Angel. Don’t keep tryn’ with him. Ain’t gonna change nothin.” He puts a hand on Angel, and his gaze turns to you. “You and the kid need fixin’ up anyhow…Especially them, they…” He trails off, staring unblinkingly. There’s a special kind of resignation behind that glassy haze of gold and black. You can tell he’s looking at you.

“Oho! Even more fun!” Alastar barks, his predatory grin growing impossibly wider, “The drunkard offers comfort to the tart and the human, how quaint!” He snickers. Slithering over to you in a lithe flash of shadows and whisping magic, Alastor snatches your attention from Husk by standing directly in front of him. He looms over you, eyes shut, with a smile you can only compare to a shiny red apple with razor blades hidden in the center.

You step back, obviously.

He steps forward.

Husk tries to go around his boss, but a tentacle trips him out of nowhere, and causes him to fall straight on his ass. He wobbles trying to stand, alcohol catching up to him, but he’s determined. 

Your view is largely blocked by the demon standing directly in front of you, but you catch a glimpse of green behind him. You hear the sound of cat claws scraping against the floor, followed by a loud 'THUMP' that echoes off the far wall.

Alastor, on the other hand, is fully focused on you, lips upturned in a casual, eased smile. In contrast, his pupils are radio dials, and their intensity is almost enough to pin you to the spot. Classic Alastor.

“My dear (Y/n), you should allow me to look at that nasty injury of yours. It’s the least you can do to ease my troubled mind, no?”

“Uh–” You sputter, confused. The quick turnaround would have given you pause if it were anybody else, but like most of his other traits, you had begun to grow numb to that which was a surprise. Even still, you found a…feeling bubbling in your chest. “You were literally just bashing Angel Dust?” You try to look around him to see what the hell happened to Husk, but he quickly shifts to keep your view obscured. Everyone except Vaggie, who is searching for her spear, scrambles to check on Husk. “And like, WHY dude?!” You gesture wildly behind him.

His eyes glinted with mirth at your response, ears twitching so clearly you could see the fluffy black tips sway. For a split second, you thought his shadow was dancing above him, with a similar, sinful glee…but it was just those fluffy tips. An awful thing to notice at a time like this, but…you swore you never saw them move more than a mere flick. 

Truly, utterly, strange. The strangest thing you saw of him yet.

“Bashing? Heavens no, as I said previously, I was just explaining what happened! Angel Dust didn’t knock you upside that fragile little head of yours, too, did he?” He muses condescendingly, trying to put a hand on your uninjured shoulder. His ears had stilled completely now, another oddity, but you tore your mind from it for the sake of the situation.

“Alastor, you’re being bipolar again!” You twist out of his grip. “Move out of the way, you–” He is annoyingly fast, blocking every move of yours with his lithe figure, and reaching out for you with each avoidant dash.

You knew he was toying with you. He was incredibly quick when he saw it fit, and only let himself graze you each time he reached for you. Annoying as it was, you kept the 

“I know you’re a selfless little thing, but really, Husker is fine. You, on the other hand…” He grabs your face with one hand, tightly clamping his slender digits around your chin and squishing your cheeks. 

“A-ah, alastor, let’s give them some space, and (Y/n), let’s not use mental illnesses to describe our friends negatively!” Charlie called from the other side of the room. She was once again caught between two situations, reverting to the “PEACE AND LOVE PLEASE” mentality as she tried to diffuse the situation.

“I wasn’t using it negatively! That’s just how he’s acting! Actually, he’s acting CRAZY! AGAIN! Why can he be an asshole, but I can’t say he’s bipolar, that’s the real tea!” You say, floored by this entire situation. Alastor merely scoffs, expression dented, though it's hard to tell if it’s another play to mock you.

“Am I not allowed to care about my friend?” Your lids drop to partially cover your eyes, and your lips press into a line.

“Bffr, dude.” You quip.

“Be what exactly, my dear? A caring friend, as always?”

“Didn’t we address this a while ago? Like, yeah, we could so be friends, but you act like THIS!”

“Like what?”

“...Alastor, stop rage-baiting me.”

“Mmm, I don’t see any bait around here, but if you’re referring to my language, I’d say you’re a very greedy fish with how you respond each time!” A laugh track played out of nowhere in particular– so loud in fact, it almost made you wince.

Your deadpan deepens to a further degree as you begin, once again,  contemplating if you could fight him with your very shitty, somewhat developed powers. And a dislocated shoulder.

Unlikely odds for your victory, but this was getting irritating.

“I…I’m gonna hit you when I get the chance. I’m not joking.” 

“I’d love to see you try!” He chirps.

Charlie runs over, taking Vaggie’s spear that she was approaching with, and sets it against the wall gently. Husk is stumbling off, cursing, and Angel Dust is helping him.

“ALRIGHT! Alastor, I think you and I should have a conversation about…um, this! As happy as I am to have you here and caring about (Y/n) I–” 

“Later!” He cuts her off, not removing his eyes from you.

“Oh, um, okay! I think right now would actually be better because (Y/n) needs…” She trails off.

“Ļ̭̤̘́͂́̕ ͖̬͓͇͗́͜Ā̵͈͈͇̝̥͉͋̉̀͡ ̷͓́̏̒̓͡ͅŢ̷͇̫͇͍̌͆͐͘ ̰͘͏̷̬̗̪̓͑̀͠E̹͎̣̞͒̐̔̑ ̣͚̺̤͚̔͊̂̿̉R̢̨̦̭͕̮̅̄̋” His proclamation resonated in the air, not with the force of a shout, but with the subtle echo of a radio tuning in, its static fading away to reveal a beloved song that suddenly captures your full attention after lingering softly in the background of your thoughts.

He was still looking you in the eyes when he decided to go radio mode, but even as those pupils staring into your soul became radio dials, you found yourself recognizing the way that Charlie wilts from the disruption. 

“AYE, you will NOT be mean to Charlie!” You make your own proclamation, standing firm.

“Now (Y/n),” He puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I would never be ‘mean’ to the fairer sex; it is not how my mother raised me at all! Especially not to Miss Morningstar! I am offended that you take me as such an ungentlemanly wer.” He slowly turns Charlie, radio dials dissipating, and a much more patient look graces his demonic features. “(Y/n) would not have made it out of that tower if it wasn’t for me, let alone with that vagrant. I request you leave me be until I get their attitude and condition sorted.” He articulates every word with crystal clarity, unfogged by the hiss at the end of each sentence.

Charlie has risen from her previously deflated state, deciding to digest his words, carefully nodding along. She looks over to where Husk and Angel have gone off to, and gives you a look as if to say, “You got this on your own?”, before scurrying away after confirmation. Vaggie hesitates before following, glaring at the radio demon, but inevitably follows her girlfriend out of the room. It is just the two of you now. Well, three if you count Alastor’s shadow that’s been cackling at the chaos from a corner.

“You were nowhere near me that whole time! You didn’t even have that fuck ass bracelet on me to track me or whatever.” You back up for the millionth time, trying to get some space to breathe from this persistent man. Unfortunately, you’re just getting closer and closer to a wall.

“Oh? I see, I see…you think you know all of my tricks just because…” He trails off, taping a claw to his chin like he’s thinking, but gives you a mocking smile as he continues. “Strange, I can’t even think of why you must think that!” He grabs your arm quickly, the injured one this time, but doesn’t pull. “Just because you don’t have my gift, does not mean you can hide from me…” His words are…creepy, to say the least. But he says them with that same soft expression he gave to Charlie.

Soft is…the only word to describe it. Even though it isn’t kind by any means, he’s perfectly confident in what he’s saying. 

“Do you not have better things to do than stalk me?” 

“Stalking…is a very incorrect word. Keeping an eye on you? Making sure that little, uselessly soft form does not face the wrath of a vicious demon?” He bends at the waist to lean in. When you try to move back, a wall keeps you in place. His face is mere inches from yours as he speaks– that cold, muggy breath of a dead man and his delicately poisoned words spitting into your face. “ That is what I do. It is my job, as well. I suggest you start staying in the hotel and doing yours instead of trying to play hero every chance you get.”

He stays in that position for an excruciatingly long moment. His nose is nearly touching yours; you can almost feel its point, and wonder if he pushed close enough, if it would pierce your flesh like his claws. The intensity of his gaze had heightened despite the serenity of his face, like he was making sure you were paying attention.

Or like he was checking for your understanding.

Whatever point he was making, you felt a rush of cool, pure relief as he stepped away from you. 

“This conversation was quite unproductive.” He muses with shut eyes, before summoning his cane in a flourish nearly dramatic enough to flower the tension that weaves around the room like stubborn vines. “Come see me when you’re ready for a fixing instead of another unreasonable argument.” With that, he slips into an abyss of thick black and green substance that is too dense to be smoke.

The silence is still, almost calming in a way. Charlie comes back in with Vaggie from the other room, immediately fussing like a mother hen.

“Ah, (Y/n)! I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I just left you out here, but I had to check on Husk, and Angel, and they’re both upset, and Angel is still injured but won’t let me help, and…” She looks around. “Oh, he left again. He’s been doing that a lot these past few days.” She turns to you with a sad look. “Did you guys work it out at all?”

“Nope. But what is there to work out when…I don’t know. There’s no rhyme or reason to anything he does.” You say simply with a shrug. “He just said some creepy stuff and then poof, he’s gone.”

“Yeahhhh,” Charlie sighs, putting a hand on your back and rubbing slow circles. “Al can be pretty confusing! Sometimes he’s all cheerful, other times he does…all that! And for why? We don’t know!”

While Charlie hovers over you, conversing about Alastor being Alastor, Vaggie shifts on the side, giving Charlie a look. Charlie takes notice to this, and tilts her head in response, giving a blank. Charlie kind of “blank” though, filled with stars and hopes and dreams in an abyss of red and savior complexity. Vaggie gets distracted by it for a second, before laughing to herself and turning her head to stare at nothing in particular.

“I think it’s pretty obvious why he’s “acting up” this time.”

“Really?! Omg, a Vaggie idea!!!” She tugs you both to the couch in the living room. “I love these! She’s so smart, you know!” She whispers to you, all excited, while Vaggie tries to focus and be serious.

“Well…Ugh, maybe this is stupid but, my first thought is that it’s because of you, duh,” Vaggie says flippantly, pointing at you. “Alastor has always acted without much care for people, and often only when something delights or entertains him. Something that it seems like he doesn’t like though is…” She trails off, thinking hard about her word choices. “He almost doesn’t like it when you…Well, I’m less sure about this part, but honestly, when you’re…nice to people? That’s my guess.” Charlie gasps, covering her mouth.

“WOW VAGS! GREAT idea that one! I think I can see it! Alastor was in the same mood when they had disappeared as to when they got back! Maybe it is connected!” She clasps her hands together. “Ooooo, we should make a chart of possible reasons Alastor has been crazier recently! Reason number 1 will be “(Y/n)”, with nice bold letters and such, because they are the best reason, and also the most likely! Oooo, amazing way to turn this situation into something fun, Vags! It’s like a scavenger hunt but for emotions!”

“I think that sounds more like investigative therapy. Or like a psychoanalysis. Which, let’s be honest, won’t do much good for a literal cannibalistic demon overlord.” Vaggie grumbles. You put your face in your hands and groan loudly.

“Urgh, hold up, why is that the number one reason??? If I’m the actual reason that would mean that I’m DEFINATELY screwed because what if he’s doing that to isolate and CANABALIZE ME!” You shout dramatically without looking up. You sense an awkward silence that basically says “oop girl simmer down”, so you move on. “Could we consider a number two? Mayhaps?” You ask, before lifting your head to look at Charlie.

The girl was standing against the wall with a whiteboard, with the title “Possible reasons for Alastor acting like a lunatic (PRFAALAL):” in popping pinks and reds, and underneath it, next to the number 1 was “(Y/n)” written in blue bold, underlined, and with half-drawn hearts surrounding it.

“Sorry, sorry! You said not number one…” She takes a vibrant red marker to cross out your name, but frowns and puts a small X next to it instead. “Actually, (Y/n), if you could go talk to him about all this, that might help us out! Just generally figuring stuff out with him, and…you’re like, his best friend! At least in the hotel!” You blink at her.

“Charlie, I feel like every time I try and ‘speak with him’ things just get more fucked up…” You grumble.

“I agree, what if he does actually decide to canabalize them?” Vaggie starts the sentence seriously, but ends up snickering at the end. You smile, half amused.

“Yeah, what if he lowkey kicks my ass again…it’s been a while since the last time, and I think he might be ready to, not so metaphorically charge at me with those big ass horns he’s got.” You shiver.

“Aren’t they like, super tiny?” Charlie questions.

“Babe, they grow. You’ve seen them.” Vaggie interjects

“Oh, yeah, right!” She turns back to you. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I can try and talk to him, or we can just wait.”

“Nah…mama didn’t raise no bitch.” You say, getting up. “It’s gonna happen one way or another so…I’m gonna go get it over with.” You sigh, resigned, and begin shuffling out of the room. Charlie sputters and calls after you.

“Wait, don’t you want me to fix your shoulder first?” She shouts, concern creeping back in. “It’s just…just hanging there!”

“I GOT MY PRIORITIES STRAIGHT CHARLIE, TRUST.”

You probably didn’t.

Chapter Text

“Alastorrrr, are you pouting like a baby again?” Your fist raps at the door at least a dozen times before you finally try the handle. It doesn’t twist the slightest bit. You knock again, giving it a kick for good measure. “The others said you’ve been being weird…or something. Is it because you and I are highkey besties and you don’t wanna admit it? Alastorrrrr,” You mused. “I’m gonna start acting like you out here. Um, hold up, let me think.” You clear your throat, standing up straight and channeling your inner radio demon, putting on your best transatlantic accent. “Daaaaisy, daaaisy, give me your answer–”

Your off-key belting is interrupted by the door slowly creaking open.

“Huh, well, that worked out better than expected.”

Rather than coming in, you stand in the doorway, leaning against the dark wooden frame.

Inside the room, a record player plays soft jazz, a clock ticks, and you can hear frogs croaking from beyond the hotel room and into the bayou pocket dimension. Yet for all this delightfully 1930s New Orleans style ambiance, Alastor is nowhere in sight; not a singular hint of the Radio Demon you had promised to confront.

“Really? You made such a fuss about me being gone, and now you’ve gone off somewhere?”

In the blink of an eye, you slipped through a familiar portal and dropped right into the center of the room. You shiver at the unexpected feeling of your body moving through that inky, cold, shadow magic, but shake it off as best you can for the sake of maintaining your bravado.

“Okay drama king, pop off…” You grumbled, finally catching a glimpse of Alastor approaching from beyond the marshes. “No, seriously, what was the meaning of that if you were just gonna walk in from the woods?

 In the misty, blue-lit shadows, you see the faint twitch of an ear and twisting antlers coming into view. Alastor walks at a leisurely pace without his cane, hands behind him, and a slow, steady stride in his feet. His wide, glowing red eyes resemble saucers in the moody light, and the large grin of sharp, yellow teeth glimmers with a similar shimmer. He takes in your presence like a petulant fly buzzing around his fresh kill, a disinterested and minor annoyance.

“I do not take kindly to having my space disturbed.” He states plainly, hands still clasped behind his frame.

“And I don’t like being threatened, tracked, and watching you antagonize my friends, but here we are.” You retort, lips curling upward. “Also, the door was open…bitch.” You add the last part after thinking a bit. 

“Aha! Quick as always, my dear! How I love your snapping quips! Even when you insist on adding unnecessary profanity, it's refreshing! Especially after such a mind-numbing squabble with that effeminate spider.” He huffs, putting a hand to his forehead. “We could always do without the vulgarities, but alas, I have begun to grow accustomed to your quirk!”

“Hey, you were provoking him. Plus,” you turn your head and stare into the endless void of marsh, gaining consciousness once more, "that’s another reason I came up here! You were bullying him!” You put up your fists. “And he is my BEST FRIEND down here, SO PUT EM UP BUSTER!”

“Buster? My, what a pleasant term for yours truly! I was expecting one of the made-up ragamuffin insults your generation seems to love so much! Hearing such a classic off your tongue, though? Oho! It tickles my tongue,” He laughs at his own humor before sighing and putting a hand out, gesturing to his couch. “Let’s slow down for a moment, shall we? Perhaps you could have a seat or…” He catches your glare and shrugs with a bright smile, “ Or not! Back to my question! What was the first reason? To greet your dear ol’ pal Alastor after being gone without notice? That would be extremely considerate! Or maybe, you were referring to me ‘poking’ him.”

“Poking? That’s all you think you did?” 

“Hmm…I recall only pointing a finger at him once. It didn’t quite touch, so poking is not–”

“PROVOKING, THEN! How about that? Poking, provoking– I mean, you’re doing that to me now–”

“I’m many paces away from you, my dear. I can't touch you!”

“You are PLAYING DUMB! That’s like taking the phrase “poking the bear” literally!”

“Ah, indeed! Another phrase I never cared for! After all, I’d much rather poke the deer! Specifically a buck! With a bullet from my gun! Oho, the humor of it all!” He barks with a grin. Your eye twitches in response. “Apologies, my dear,” he continues without a chip off his tune, “that hunt I just finished up was truly one to die for! A man cannot help but feel the residual buzz of a kill.”

“ALASTOR! You’re trying to rage-bait me AGAIN!” Your fists disappear into a flurry of waving.

“I still don’t understand that overzealous term.” He shrugs with an air of ignorance, but that same grin holds strong.

You look at the seat he offered you previously, the velvet-covered cushions, though still not coaxing you for a rest, were looking quite appealing to your fists. In a way, they resemble Alastor; all flamboyant, vintage, and completely in his color scheme. 

A true red flag…grrrr

Your gaze drifts to the coffee table, where a captivating bottle rests in silent regality. Its glass surface, accented by crystal designs and golden detailing, holds a deep, rich auburn liquid that swirls gently just beneath the neck, inviting your curiosity. This striking hue contrasts devilishly with the polished, chocolatey surface of the mahogany, burning into your mind a mischievous image of you doing something extremely wasteful with that expensive-looking alcohol.

Alastor, sensing the wheels turning in your silly brain, steps forward to present the center of your attention in a grandiose flourish. He bends at the waist, hand extending with his palm facing up, and he gestures to the bottle with the showmanship of a vintner.

“Finally, taking a break from the fussing to rest your eyes upon one of my finest liquors?” He chirps, flicking his wrist to reach up and flick the cap off, all in one smooth motion. “I presume you’d like a taste of my collection?”  You nod eagerly, rushing up towards him. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t stop you. Good, you think. Good good good good goooooood. This is the best idea the (Y/n) could ever think of.

Your eyes glaze with intense focus, and your mind has shut down any senses (or logic) that would stop your motions as you grab the now-open bottle and lift it to your mouth. The circular glass rim slots perfectly between your lips, and the cool liquid instantly floods your mouth, and before you know it, you’re chugging as much down as you can take without drowning.

You’re smart enough to close your nose, which does nothing for the intense burning that claws your throat like molten daggers, but it dims the bitter, smoky taste just enough for you to stomach a surprising amount of the bottle.

Just a bit more, you keep thinking with each pained gulp. Just a little more, and you can piss him off enough for him to feel remorse.

 In the background of your self-induced anguish, your ears are pierced with a loud radio screech. And yet, other than that, you face no interruption.

That is, until you start to choke. Literally.

You instinctively lose your grip on the bottle, but don't hear the sudden shattering of glass that you expect. It does just so happen that the lack of destructive noise is the least of your concerns at the moment, because the lack of oxygen and surplus of burning liquid in your lungs is causing you to panic horrifically. You try to breathe, and all you feel is fiery brimstone pounding inside your airways. The tears that had welled up in your eyes from the spice of the whiskey fell from your lids in fat, watery rivers, juxtaposing the fire raging throughout your entire body.

Your knees finally give out, fingers clawing into the velvety carpet as you gag and drool onto the material. The sharp pain and panic are dulling now, and in their place grows the sickening, pounding ache of asphyxiation creeping in. Your noises are gone from your throat now, and at the edge of your vision, you see black creeping in. A blob of red also makes its way into the corner of your eye, which you find odd, but you’re a little busy attempting to save yourself from an untimely demise from your own stupid decisions with nothing but willpower and your (somewhat) healthy lungs.

SMACK !

A quick, powerful swat to your back knocks enough booze out of your throat, allowing air to get down your esophagus. You can’t help the loud, desperate gulps that surface from you as you breathe deeply, and let your head swim with utter relief. 

As you lie on the ground, hands still buried in the plush, velvet carpet, you notice the sharp pair of glossy shoes firmly planted in the ground only a foot or two away from your shivering, pathetic body. Looking up through your tear-muddled vision, you are given the view of none other than the owner of the now disgraced liquor. He stood up straight as ever, only tilting his chin down slightly to look at you with squinted eyes and a deeply furrowed brow. Seriously, any further and those red lines above his eyes would slide right off his face.

And that smirk he was just sporting? It has now twisted into a tightly shut, wobbly grin that makes you wonder if he’s about to laugh at you or puke up all the dark magic and awful things he can muster to get back at you.

Your breathing is almost back under control, so as you pant, you attempt to roll away from him while muttering, “Oh my fucking god I’m dying…”

Your pathetic attempt at escape is stopped by a foot on your back pressing you down to the floor. It's enough to hold you, but not to hurt your fragile state.

“...That rye was infused with the mucus of 10 inferno salamanders…” He articulates slowly. “What is wrong with you, you pathetic, impulsive creature, you–” He pauses, fixing his face to a more natural one. 

Natural for him anyway. Solid, like a judgy doll.

After composing himself, he smoothly looks you over in an inhumanly mechanical motion, bones twisting in their nonrestrictive joints to allow him to keep a shoe on you. Then, with a poof of green and black smoke, the bottle you’d thought you dropped appears in his hand. He taps his claws against the glass before he takes a swig, an exaggerated ‘ah’ echoing with strange radio distortion when he releases the rim. “Goes down smooth, doesn’t it?”

Your response is a sigh, going limp on the floor. “My bad, original gangster….” you groan. “Oh my stomach hurtssss.” 

After allowing the flavors to settle on his tongue, he releases you from under his foot and squats down to your level with an especially annoying “hm”. He tilts his head, a similar tight-lipped smile gracing his lips, though with a much more arrogant, mocking spirit. He then leans back, taking a seat across from your crumpled body, ears twitching and chin now resting in his hand.

He almost looks playful.

“Oh? Whatever could have happened to that haughtiness you had only a moment ago? And here I thought this little human had the strongest fire in hell! Only to be doused by some rye with a touch of flame.” He laughs loudly. He doesn’t stop at a quick chuckle this time, no, he continues cackling until his beady red eyes nearly roll out of his skull.

You, being you, and possibly a tad buzzed, also start laughing. Though as soon as you start, Alastor stops. His head is still tilted back and to the side, as if he froze in the middle of his laugh. Except his smile is now closed, and due to the positioning, his eyes are only just able to see you. Like when a dog side eyes you while you’re trying to play with them.

“Oh, what now?” You resign, up to match his criss-cross apple-sauce-ass formation.

“Tell me, how are you feeling inside that squishy shell?” He pokes your stomach, making you squeak.

“Ah! Freak! Don’t do that!” You huff before answering his question. “I’m feeling fine, now that I can breathe. So, better, I guess? I’m super warm?”

“Ah, yes, yes…that all makes sense.” He mutters, staring into your eyes. “It is just so interesting that you haven’t exploded! After all, something demonic with such a…pure soul? Ha! A recipe for disaster!” He chirps, taking his chin away from his palm and standing up with a swift flourish. Then, making sure to offer a hand to your unharmed hand, he helps you to your feet. “You are truly a miracle in hell, aren’t you?”

Your eyes roll, your face warmed with alcohol and a touch of pride at getting such a sudden, nearly earnest-sounding compliment from Alastor himself.

“A second thing I must inquire about! How do you plan on reimbursing me for my finest beverage?” That color in your face instantly drains.

“Um, see, so like, I thought…” You begin, already calculating the best way to get out of the room unscathed.

“You thought, what exactly? That I would allow you to partake in my prized rye for free? Ohoho, my dear, you are sorely mistaken.” He steps closer. “After all, I did save you–” 

BLECK

Thick, hot liquid on the rug you had already dry heaved saliva all over, staining the red with the off colored auburn. Just above the spot you puked on stood Alastor– frozen once again, and this time truly stopped in place. His mouth held its ‘O’ shape, and you had to suppress a laugh because you had just earned a second face that you’d never seen before from someone who only smiks.

Not like you could focus on that much, since your throat was burning with bile and demonic booze.

“Fuck…another my bad moment…urgh…” You manage to sputter. You shake your head and stand up straight, looking down at your mess.  “Oh, at least it came out in one piece!” You say, pointing at the gelatinous blob your puke has formed. Then, very slowly, the formation begins to sizzle and sink into the rug.

Then through the floor as a whole.

Leaving a hole.

A hole in the radio demon’s floor.

And right after, I drank a ton of his booze. I feel like he’s not too happy about this. Just that amazing intuition of mine, I suppose. You look up at Alastor. Or maybe it’s that loud ass static he’s producing. You blink at him and turn around. I’m just gonna sneak away like I did with the Vees. Mysterious magic, don’t fail me now…

You close your eyes and let a breath slowly seep into your nose, out your mouth, and attempt to channel that bright light in your soul to cloak you. You slowly pivot towards the direction of the exit, raise a knee, and quietly try creeping out of the room.

“...what in the seven hells do you think you are doing, dear?” Alastor asks with a tight smile, eyes narrowing.

“You can’t see me right now, I’m using the powers,” You say quietly, confidence dampening with each uncertain step.

Alastor’s lack of words rang louder than any demonic screech he could have yelled. His eye twitched– just once, and to your attention also came that his ears were pinned back. Those two tufts of red and black, usually tall and only occasionally flicking when something of interest arises– they’re now flat against his head.

Is that like a cat’s airplane ears? Your thoughts of Earth’s creatures couldn’t wander much due to that familiar static buzz finally disrupting the heavy silence.

“...I cannot believe how much I underestimated your stupidity.” The noise slowly crescendos– a crackling representation of his ever-growing irritation. “You have barged into my room, drank my liquor, ruined my rug, and now you sit here and assume you have the power to grant yourself invisibility?”

“Uh, yeah? That wasn’t the original plan, but since you don’t listen to reason, retaliation is where we ended up. I guess.” You pause, turning back towards the door. “And you’re not supposed to see me, so hush. I’m escaping.” You glance back at Alastor to make sure you’re not being seen. 

You very much are.

“Damn, these powers are so unreliable.” You sigh and just start walking towards the door. “Like they work one moment, they don’t the next, I mean, seriously–” The door clicks locked before you can get to it.

“Hm, such a delusion. Thinking you could do something as powerful as a mindless cloaking spell.” Suddenly, with those noiseless steps, he is behind you, and the only indication of his presence is the thick, cold aura he radiates. It conflicts with your human body heat, mixing into something unsettling. Like repelling magnets. He laughs with a mocking humour, as soft as fangs capped with velvet. “That was all̨̞͐͗̈́͟,̴̌̍̃̔̓ ̻̱̙̝̀̐͐̊̀̊m̢͙̞͗̈́̔̽͗̈́̏̚e͇̱̩̯͌͑͌̈̐͡,̰̤̤͐͌́̐͋̓ͅ ̯̰͎̳̭̹͛̃͊́my dear human.”

“Nuh, that was all ME, my dear demon.” You spit back.

You’re about to continue all the reasons as to why you escaped mostly unscathed from the Vees, with Angel, was all your amazing doing with your amazing magic and amazing wit, when Alastor’s clawed hand wraps tightly around your arm.

In one swift motion, he shoves your arm right back into the socket. It makes the same, disgusting ‘POP’ as when it was dislocated, adding to the horrifying shock of pain. Tears prick into your eyes, but any noise dies in your throat. The agonizing pain shot from your arm to the rest of your body– it’s a miracle you don’t fall over. 

After nearly collapsing from the sudden, blinding discomfort, the feeling fizzles out into a dull ache deep within your shoulder that pulses in rhythm with your heartbeat. 

“It was a cloaking spell, dear.” He straightens his tie. “A mindless bubble, more specifically. Invisibility is a move of zero eloquence.”

“Oh…Oh my god, why, dude?” You groan and roll your shoulder, testing the renewed placement. Much to your surprise, the pain is gone almost instantly. “Wait, why is my back lowkey fixed?” You do a little twist at the waist, like a soccer mom preparing for a sprint. “My back feels amazing! How did you do that when it was just my shoulder?!”

Alastor hums and shrugs, the buzzing static finally ceasing. The physical symptoms of his earlier displeasure seem to leave along with the sound, but you’re not sure if you can trust that he’s truly over his mood.

“Wise-cracks were always a knack of mine.” He snaps backward at a 90-degree angle, then twists at the waist similar to how you did, arms in front (or above?) him and all. “Mmm, yes! Limber as always!”

“SPEAKING of wise cracks…you wise…wise demon you…who just popped my arm back into place, ” You begin, trying to think of how you could get this conversation back on track, “surely someone so smart can talk about, I don’t know, why you have behaved in a certain way as of late?” You pobe, shimmying closer. He stays put, tilting his head, and then straightens back up into his normal posture.

“As far as I’m concerned, dull little human, I have been behaving the same way as always!” He flashes his yellow fangs and, without opening them, continues,“ Peachy as a southern belle!”

“Ahaha, sure, sure. You, the peachiest peach to ever grace this land.” You say with the most deadpan voice you can muster. Alastor rolls his eyes, speaking plainly once more.

“Again with the lack of focus!” He twirls a finger in the air for emphasis. “You have done everything but ask those silly questions you were originally so insistent on asking!” He gives an especially jovial laugh, his natural dirieson seeping back into his demeanor.

“YOU are the one who keeps derailing me!” You huff. “You want me to be candid? Okay, fine! The others said you were acting weird when I left, and then when I got back. Charlie said that she was going to make a list of why you’re acting odd, and you know who’s at the top of the list? ME! Which, you know what, I’m starting actually to believe it!” Alastor only shrugs in response, stepping away with his usual pep, springing back into his step.

“They used to call me “Aytipical Alastor” back in my heyday! Aha! Then I would kill them! Not because they said that, lord knows it, but because they’d say it so often! Oho! I do despise old jokes!” He spins his head 360 degrees repeatedly, while a laugh track plays in a loud, crackling tune from an unseen source. His staff is still not included in his ensemble.

“I– Alastor, please stop spinning your head, it is so distracting.” 

He spins his head faster.

“Alastor. Alastor. Alastor. Alastor, please stop spinning your head. I’m trying to have a serious conversation.”

“And why can it not be produced whilst I crack my neck?”

“You’ve already made your wisecrack jokes, so you can’t do another one of those, man, didn’t you say something about old jokes? Like, cracking the same ones over and over is boring?” You pause. “Yes, the pun was intended there, but the humor is also in the hypocrisy. If you couldn’t tell.”

His head finally ceases spinning. With a firm smile, he allows his neck to creak as he twists his head to face you directly.

“How pathetic.” He mutters. His voice lacks warmth now, and his eyes glow a brighter crimson.

“Oh, so you’re allowed to joke, but when I say something,” You throw your hands up.

“My jokes, unlike yours, are funny, my dear. Yours are to fill the silence up until there’s no room to think about how fucked you are!” He laughs louder this time, the booming noise rattling the walls of the room. “Truly, those so-called ‘coping mechanisms’ don’t do a thing for your reality! Does it not frighten you that the only thing you can do to keep your mind from running away without you is subpar jests filled with debauchery?” He lowers his voice into a sneer. “With all that fear, you’d think you could stay put inside the only safe grounds you’ve been offered.”

“Angel was in trouble. You know I had to.”

“Oh, really? You had to? With nothing but that feeble mind of yours and the faultiest powers known to all the Pride ring?” He huffs. “I refuse to let my newest toy get damaged so easily by its own stupidity.”

“Now I don’t even know what you’re on about!” You all but hiss. “I’m my own person– not even close to a toy. And I’m not gonna argue that with you because, ugh, what happened to being a gentleman???”

“Mhm, last time I checked, you are! You should thank me if I’m being so honest. If you were to disappear, who could I get to do meaningless tasks on my behalf whilst getting to devour that delicious human misery!”

“That’s why you rage-bait me so hard? It feeds your demon stomach or something?” You retort.

“Unimportance! Another one of your endless list of flaws!” With a comical motion, he untwists his neck and walks a few paces away to face the bayou. “Carelessness, unequivocal vexation, untimely–” He continues, counting on each finger as he states your flaws. Or maybe just a list of vague, mean things to say that could apply to most. You can’t tell.

“OH AND YET YOU SEND YOUR DAMN SHADOW TO FOLLOW ME? YOU CLOAK ME? EXPLAIN THAT HYPOCRITE! I CAN LIST SHIT TOO!” After listing those things and earning no response, you think about it for a second longer. “Hold up, that is a lot of trouble for me. Even if I’m your “toy” or whatever…” You mutter. “Unless…you truly enjoy my presence….even if it's just a little.”

“AHA! Heavens no! Aww, has your delusion truly gone so far as to make you think I could be capable of worry?” Even with his words, soft static floats to your ears, the quietest buzz it's been so far. “Hmmm, it would be a slight disappointment to no longer have your silly human heart fluttering in fear at the most minute things…”

“Ohhhhh, aww,” You muse in the same tone he had used.“You can say you’d miss me if I were gone, you know?” Your words were warmed by a laugh bubbling in your throat. Not a full one, but the hint of amusement that this was something you had to say to him.

He was still facing away from you and was completely still. You paused for a moment, just in case he wanted to interject, but when nothing was said, you continued.

“I understand this is hell. I understand that you’re the Radio Demon. I understand that…” You sigh, pausing again to think about your words carefully. “I know these might be useless words to you, but I don’t think there’s anything truly wrong with us being friends, you know? I know you have them! I just want to be one more of those!”

Those fluffy, red ears on his head give a few flicks, like he’s thinking. When he turns around to you, it’s not with a twist of the neck. He faces you completely now, looking down into your eyes.

“Another bracelet it is then!” He chirps, ruining the moment you thought you could foster.

“Absolutely not.” You deadpan.

He began approaching you, stalking forward with a soft cackle that grew in volume as he stalked towards you.

“Friendship has a price, my dear, ~” 

“What? No!” Your words didn’t even chip his stride. “Alastor, hey, no, I said NO! NO MEANS NO, ALASTOR!” You bolted towards the door, which swung open for you.

After bursting into the hallway, you couldn’t help but feel a sort of weight lifted off your shoulders. Maybe the hotel as a whole was slightly brighter. Alastor is playing with you, after all. In a non-manipulative way, for once. He's doing a bit that you can laugh at, too. Maybe, despite everything, you can still be on good terms with the Radio Demon.

“WHO THE FUCK PUKED ACID THAT BURNED A WHOLE THROUGH MULTIPLE FLOORS????” Vaggie’s voice rang through the upstairs. You turn to see that Alastor is no longer chasing you and has left you to your own devices.

“Again? Seriously! You know what, it wasn’t even my fault, so I’ll just hope I don’t get questioned.” You think out loud. 

“Just blame it on the pig, (Y/n). Blame it on the pig.” Niffty giggles, scurrying off into the vents

"Wha- actually, no." You also scurry to hide from the consequences of your own actions