Chapter Text

Alastor was always poised, graceful even. He had calculated movements and grandiose theatrical flair. You envied his coordination, never once looking awkward. So it was weird to see him twitch so much. From morning till now as you all sat eating the dinner the deer demon prepared, you’d noticed how his ears flicked and how he’d shake his head every so often. His hands, graceful and confident with whatever he was doing, would make small aborted movements every now and then.

The usually stoic Alastor looked uncomfortable and only you seemed to notice. 

“Is the jambalaya not to your liking, my dear? You haven’t taken a bite.” Across from you, his staticky voice drew your attention from his small movements back to the present. He dabbed a napkin to his grinning mouth while looking at you in question. You blinked and coughed a little, embarrassed to be caught staring. 

“Uh no… sorry. Was a little distracted there.” You take a bite of the dish he had prepared and savor the spicy rich taste. It was so good you could feel yourself smiling a little in bliss. “Delicious as usual, Alastor. Thank you for the food.”

“My pleasure, dear. My pleasure. It brings me great joy to hear compliments on my mother’s recipe.” 

The others chimed in with burps, asking for seconds or more compliments. Dinner continued as usual and you momentarily stopped thinking about the demon’s weird behavior. It was probably nothing.

You bring the dirty dishes to the sink afterwards before putting on an apron to wash them. You took over this chore as it bothered you that the cook also cleaned the kitchen. That’s just not how it was done when you were alive and those old ingrained lessons from childhood remained in you after all that time. 

Behind you, Alastor was organizing his spice cabinet. The man was particular about where each spice was kept so he insisted on doing this himself.

The tune of some long ago melody was playing from him. Like most nights, this was a peaceful and quiet time. A few months ago, you would flinch and fight the urge to run away whenever the Radio Demon was near. One day, when you’d gathered the courage to speak to Alastor after dinner, you’d told him that you would like to do the dishes in thanks for his cooking. He’d laughed a staticky fake chuckle and accepted your offer. He then proceeded to watch you work the whole time, chiming in when things weren’t done the way he’d liked. It was arguably, one of the most unpleasant experiences you’d had since coming down. The radio demon did not hold back when it came to his kitchen. Now, you enjoyed these peaceful moments where the clinking of dishes were accompanied by the sound of an old tune.

You were just catching onto the tune, about to hum with it, when it was suddenly cut short. Behind you, there was a growl and the sound of scratching.

“You okay?” You dry your hands as you look over at him. He was scratching at his ear like a puppy. 

“Just fine, my dear. Nothing to worry about.” He made a dismissive gesture though his grin remained a tad strained. He peeled a piece of what looked like skin from his antler which seemed to be what was bugging him. He inspected the piece before throwing it in the bin. It was bloody and disgusting and you must’ve been making a face because he chuckled when he looked back at you.

You’d seen this on TV before, back when you were alive. Deer needed to shed skin from their antlers as part of the growth process. You didn’t think that would apply to a deer demon since you’ve seen him change the size of his antlers at will. But all animal demons carried some animal quirk or another based on their form. It made some sense that Alastor would have to go through something so irritating yet utterly pointless in his afterlife. This was Hell after all.

You wanted to pick at it. Would it be squishy? Soft? Was it as gross as it looked? There was an impulse to poke at the spots you now could see shedding but you knew the demon would blast you for even trying. It was a little impulsive but you just had to ask him if you could touch it.

“I noticed you looking a little…uncomfortable today. Would you like some help with shedding the velvet from your antlers?”

Alastor’s POV

While he knew Ynna was a very forward, even blunt, individual, he was still caught by surprise at the offer. Mostly, by the nature of the task. In all her time here at the hotel, she had not tried to initiate contact with him except for a handshake in the beginning. He’s seen her hug Angel Dust and the girls, give friendly pats in passing to Husker and the snake. In fact, his impression of her was that she was a very touchy person, especially after she had settled in with the group. But she had never done so with him once he’d expressed his dislike for being touched. He knew it stemmed from a healthy amount of fear she had for him. He liked that about her. 

She was more thoughtful than the rest, even going as far as unconsciously blocking others from touching him by accident. 

In fact, he had just enough good will for her to consider her offer.

Part of him recoiled at the thought of someone getting close to his head. A bigger part of him was just begging at the bit scrape off all the excess skin. All day, he’d felt the tight pull against his antlers. All day, he’d held back the urge to find a suitable tree to rub against. It was a humiliating display that he’d rather not have to do but was forced to every single year. 

“I don’t think you’d like that, dear. It’s a bit more of a hassle than it looks.”

Her head tilted a little to the side, surely doubting his statement due to how small his antlers looked atop his head. Silly girl. She’s had the fortune of not seeing his full demon form. If she had, it may have taken longer for her to try opening up to him. Maybe never at all if all the times she’d avoided him in the past were any indication of just how terrified she was of him.

Even now, there was hesitation and apprehension in her eyes though she looked quite sincere with her offer. Was this a gesture of friendship on her part? It was almost touching how caring she looked at the moment.

“All the more reason for me to help. Unless you just don’t want me to touch you, which is fine. Just thought I’d offer.” Her hands went in front of her in a gentle surrender, as if giving back space she’d invaded on accident.

There it was again. Caring and respectful, though he’d call it cowardly if he was being honest. Very forward but also easily backed down. So very much like the mountain goat animal her form was, taking careful steps to get to her destination but always hanging at the edge of a cliff. If she fell, would she stick the landing? So far, she had.

He looked at her as if contemplating her offer. He already made up his mind to take her up on it. No one had ever touched his antlers. He wasn’t sure if it would feel just as deplorable as being touched anywhere else on his body. At the very least, she was the most respectful of boundaries within the hotel. He could trust her with making the experience somewhat tolerable if it would rid him of the irritation quicker.

His silent stare unnerved her and it was so very entertaining to see her doubt herself. He could see the thoughts running through her mind. Had she just overstepped some unspoken boundary with an Overlord? Was he offended? Should she just pretend it never happened?

“Then I’ll take you up on that offer. Meet me in my suite later?” He answered just as she was about to retract her offer. She sighed and then smiled in relief. She was surprised he agreed. Why she bothered to try being friendly with him when it caused her so much distress, he would never understand but was it so very amusing to watch. 

“Great. I’ll see you later.” The woman turned back to the dishes, humming a tune he recognized as the one he was playing earlier. How adorable.

Ynna’s POV

You were surprisingly looking forward to helping Alastor. After feeling at home with everybody at the hotel, it bothered you that you weren’t as close to Alastor as with the rest. Of course, you didn’t think that Alastor would be the type to have friends but it felt like giving up to not even try to close some of the gap. Now that you were a little less terrified of him and he seemed to not mind your presence, it was a good time to try getting closer.

Approaching the demon’s door, you wondered what it would look like inside. How would Alastor’s prim and proper appearance translate to his personal space? How many radios would he have in there? 

The door opened with magic after you knocked. The scene inside stunned you. Passed the vanity and bed was a swamp that seemed to go further in with no wall on the other side. Before you could really think about how he managed to keep a swamp in here, little scratching noises drew your attention to the room’s occupant. At a table near the edge of the swamp, Alastor sat picking at his now elongated antlers. They were stunningly huge. You’ve never seen them that grand before, spanning longer than his arms and a head taller. They were comically disproportionate to his body.

“Welcome my dear. I hope you’re still up to the task after seeing this?” The smile on his face was a touch amused, probably because you were once again caught staring. Going deeper into the room, you note its tidiness. It was oddly minimalistic. Bookshelf, radios (you count at least 2), dresser, vanity and a bed. You guess the swamp did count as an eccentric item that matched Alastor’s huge looming presence. There was also the vivid red wallpaper that gave the room a rich feeling.

Overall, the room fit him with its odd juxtaposition.

“Looks like fun.” Stepping up to him, you stand behind where he’s seated. The sight was gruesome from up close. Blackening bone peaked out from peeling skin. Little bits dangled from where threads still kept hanging on. Everything was bloody. It was so gross yet so fascinating. “Should I get started?”

“Knock yourself out, my dear.” 

With his consent, you pinch a bit of the dangling skin. The furry part was soft to the touch though there was definitely a squelch of fleshy bits underneath. “Does that hurt?”

“Haha not even a bit.” He says as he sips a cup of coffee that had manifested in front of him.

“Ok. Cool.” This time you take out a fileting knife. “I’m gonna use a knife to scrape the velvet off. Let me know if it bothers you.” He casually waved, amused that you thought you could hurt him.

Starting from the farthest tip of his right antler, you scrape against the bone. It became quickly apparent that the antler was harder than your knife as it dealt no damage to the bone beneath the velvet. Carefully skinning the fleshy parts, you become entranced with the process. Each slice easily cut through skin and with a bit of pressure, it peeled away.

There was a soft tune, too soft for you to hear the words in the song, but it played from one of the radios in the room. For a moment, you think about the kitchen. The atmosphere in the room felt similar to that. It was calm and peaceful despite your fingers getting bloodier with each piece you stripped from bone. A memory overlaps with the sight in front of you. You used to brush your sister’s hair when you were alive.

“I must say, this is turning out to be a lot more pleasant than expected. Like a spa day as you dames would call it.” 

“I can wash your hair after too if you’d like. This is actually pretty fun.”

As you tugged a long strip off the antler, it resembled a thick strand of hair. If you had enough strands, you could make a braid. You giggled at the gross imagery of a bloody ribbon before you cut the strand off completely. “What should I do with this?” Showing the macabre strand to the demon.

“Did you know that stags eat this after they’ve shed?”

“Nope. I thought they were herbivores.”

“On occasion, they do eat meat. I’ve seen one gnaw on human flesh before.” He had to be kidding, right? He was the type to say something horrible just to see people around him squirm but he also wasn’t a liar so that must be true.

“That is…fascinating. Not the kind of red velvet I’d eat but to each their own I guess.” You continue to cut through the skin. You’re about halfway through the first antler, pulling a strand off a pointed tip like pulling off a sock. Except there was a bloody residue left behind, sparkling on the obsidian like bone. 

“Oh? What kind of red velvet do you eat, my dear? Pillow covers?” 

It took a second for you to process that. You laugh more at the absurdity of the radio demon and how poorly executed that quip was. “Was that a sex joke? From you, Alastor?” You cackle some more while taking another slice at the antler. “And it’s cake. Red velvet is a cake flavor.” 

You set the bits and pieces you peeled off on the table. Surely, things were going well if he was trying to crack jokes.

“I didn’t think you’d get it my dear. You always struck me as rather vanilla.” You laugh some more. Puns were always your weakness. 

“I see someone had pun-cakes for breakfast.” The antler beneath shakes a bit as the man chuckles. Static crackles in your ear. You’re rather pleased with yourself at the sound.

Alastor POV

“No batter way to start the day, I say.” He laughed at his own joke, watching with interest as your bloody hand dropped pieces of him on the table. It was almost a shame that he couldn’t feel any pain from it. 

“I am thankful you didn’t waffle on your offer to help. Though it did catch me by surprise.” The sound of her laughter was lovely. He’d found so few who could appreciate his sense of humor. 

“Same here. Glad I asked. I didn’t know your sense of humor would be so en-deer-ing.” 

Her hands were closer to the base of his antler now. The scraping felt more prominent, each pass of the knife sending pleasant shivers down his spine. Like an itch finally scratched, it was euphoric. It almost made him regret not getting some unfortunate soul to tend to this need sooner. Almost. Ynna’s pleasant company surely played a role in his enjoyment. As he’d expected, she was careful where she touched. Even though it must’ve strained her a bit to reach over his head, she still made an effort not to touch any part of him other than his antlers.

Picking up a piece of velvet, he started to tear into the strip like jerky. Above him, her hands stilled. She must’ve been repulsed by the display. Turning to get a look at her face, his grin widened when indeed she had turned green and pale before coming back to normal. 

“Something wrong, dear?” 

He heard her swallow what could have been bile or a bad remark about his eating habits. Either way, what fun it was to make her uncomfortable.

“No. Nothing wrong..” she placed another piece onto the table and continued to work as if she wasn’t watching him cannibalize himself with pieces she’d “prepared”. 

She must’ve finished the right antler by now as her hands started working on the left. Inch by inch, he felt the pressure on his antler lighten. Discreetly bringing his microphone at an angle facing them, he peered through its eye to watch Ynna as she worked. Contrary to what he thought, she was smiling. He knew she was disgusted seeing him eat the velvet but she looked like she enjoyed the act of skinning his antlers. He recognized the fascination on her face, almost childlike and serene.

“Were you a medical professional in life? You seem rather handy with a knife.” 

“No. The only time I held a scalpel was to dissect frogs during a biology class.” 

“You’re a highly educated gal then. I only finished high school before jumping into broadcasting.” School hadn’t been a good memory for him. The usual bullies and brutes strutting about making hell on earth for the other children.

“What was your broadcast like? I’m sure it wasn’t murder and tips from cannibal culinary critics.”

“So you do listen to my show.” How delightful. He was almost certain no one in the hotel cared for his broadcast. Not that they had a choice. “In the earlier years, it was the news, and jazz. When it really took off was when I was able to obtain details about the mysterious killings happening in New Orleans from the police.”

Remembering those old days, he mimicked the tone of the time. “New Orleans killer strikes again as a new victim was found last night. Please be advised, dear listeners, a devil walks among us.” 

“And were you that devil, Alastor?” Her hands continued to work, already anticipating his answer and seemingly unbothered.

“Of course.” He took a hearty bite of velvet as he answered her. From the microphone’s cyclops eye, he saw her face turn contemplative though she didn’t stop the rhythm she had going on. He was interested to see her reaction. He’d never shared that detail about his past before. It was just heavily implied.

Ynna’s POV

Were you bothered by Alastor’s casual admittance to being a serial killer? Not really. It was heavily implied with how he carried himself and acted. It was more that you could picture yourself as one of those people in the audience, listening closely to each detail that the police had allowed to be on air. It would have been scandalous, scary, sensational. 

“I would have been hooked, become a fan of the show. Something about death was so fascinating when we were alive. Plus, your delivery was great.” You shared your honest thoughts.

“I’m a professional, my dear. Thank you for the praise.” Alastor preened below you, proud of his work back up top. You ponder about how many he must’ve killed to become so powerful immediately upon entry to Hell. It was gross to think about. A sad and unpleasant reality. Many denizens of Hell were like him, unrepentant or even proud murderers. You as well, though it had only been the one.

Jazz was playing on the radio now. The sound was noticeably louder than the earlier songs. It filled the room, leaving no space for conversation. It was like a spell cast upon the scene, both of you silently enjoying the evening.

As you pull the last bit of velvet off, a tiny fluffy bit, you think about how Alastor seemed to actually be enjoying eating the pieces. Though you’d never try it, you did think about taking a bite just to see. You weren’t convinced it would taste good at all, it was raw and furry, not to mention unseasoned.

It was in your mouth before you even thought to put it down.

You choked, unable to decide whether it would be extremely rude to spit it out and wretch like you wanted to but also freaked out that you acted on that intrusive thought. 

It sat on your tongue, saliva pooling around it. You could taste the metallic tang of blood and feel the unpleasant sensation of hairs tickling the roof of your mouth. Bile was burning up your throat from the need to puke but you were stubbornly keeping your mouth shut because the Radio Demon was looking at you like he was about to eat you.

Alastor’s head whipped 180 degrees to look at you. His grin was menacing and eyes wide with dials for pupils.

You didn’t mean to. Oh gods you didn’t mean to. What the fuck were you supposed to do in this situation?! He’s angry! Fuck fuck fuck!

Alastor’s POV

At some point, Ynna had fallen into a rhythm, no longer focused on the task at hand and letting her mind wander. It was impressive to see her do it. Her eyes were unfocused but her hands were still careful with the knife. She tended to get like this at times when working in the hotel. While he could chastise her for losing focus, she hadn’t caused any accidents thus far so he let it go.

He was enjoying the treatment and the atmosphere was nice. Up until the very end when her unfocused eyes looked at the last bit of velvet she’d scraped off the tip and popped it into her mouth like a candy drop.

His head swiveled in surprise. 

Did she just-? How dare she!? How dare she partake of him without his permission!?

Her hands had gone to her neck. Many emotions passed through her eyes. Surprise, disgust and confusion. She must not have even thought about what she was doing, just acted on a whim. She was turning red and green at the same time. She was stuck and unsure of what to do. Panic was setting in unaware that the real thing she had to panic about was staring at her audacity.

When she finally looked at him, she turned pale, hairs standing on end at the look he must be giving her. She should be afraid. He was angry. Never had a demon in Hell managed to even get a hold of him without his say so. To partake of him so thoughtlessly as if it was natural and she was welcome to it. She deserved no such thing. It was a violation of the trust he’d given her. Where was the respect!? 

“My my doll. I didn’t think you’d be interested in eating a piece of me. How is it? Satisfied your curiosity?” His voice was crackling in static and deeper as he growled out his displeasure. Abruptly, he stood from his chair, body turning to face her as well. She fell to the ground as her knees gave out. Shadows grew around the room, boxing her in, their dark claws leaving her no way out. As he loomed over her, much taller than he had already been, red started to fill the room, his demonic energy intended to suffocate her.

Her wide eyes were watering, fat tears threatening to spill. Her breaths were slower and deeper, a concentrated effort to calm down that she was desperately failing at. She was starting to shake. It was hilarious.

“Come on now dear. Don’t leave me hanging. I want to hear what you think.” A clawed hand covered her mouth roughly. His claws put enough pressure to prick her cheeks. “Don’t you dare spit it out.” He growled.

Her cheeks puffed with the effort to keep the piece in her mouth. So she didn’t want to eat it. She just stupidly put it in her mouth. He might have to reevaluate his impression of her. She was definitely dumber than he thought.

Beneath his palm, he could feel her starting to swallow then hesitantly chew. Tears were now streaming down her face. “Don’t cry, darling. You wanted to try it so go ahead.” A claw from his free hand mockingly wiped the tears from her face, leaving thin bleeding scratches in their wake. She closed her eyes to avoid injury and also avoid looking into his terrifying gaze. It was a way for her to concentrate and think through what was happening. To him, it looked like she was savoring the taste of him in her mouth.

He imagined it then, her teeth chewing, tearing through his flesh, savoring the bite and then swallowing. A shiver racked his body at the ghostly sensation the thought produced. It was foreign and uncomfortable. Was it unpleasant? Not entirely. It made him watch her with rapt attention. 

Every motion of her jaw, every breath, every swallow. More and more of those shivers passed through him. From the top of his head and all through his chest, it felt like he was vibrating. Was it that his flesh still held the ability to feel what was happening to it? No. He hadn’t felt anything when he was eating it himself earlier. It had to be her.

For a tense half a minute, both of them were going through extremely uncomfortable feelings. Ynna wanted to throw up but kept on chewing until the velvet was easier to swallow. He watched her, his mind providing feelings to accompany the visual. There was disgust and resignation and even determination as she worked through that littlest bit but he was almost overwhelmed by the feelings running through his body.

When she finished with the task, he let her go. The anger in him had subsided, too distracted by the foreign sensations he was experiencing at the moment. “Done?”

“Y-y-yes.” 

“Splendid. Now GET OUT.” He threw her out the door, unable to stand seeing her flushed crying face.

Chapter Text

Alastor’s POV

While lying in his bed that evening, he still felt the vibrations in his chest. They surged every time he thought of her. Like getting electrocuted by those gag rings, it was an annoying shock that left him irritated and furious with unnamed sensations ebbing and crashing like a tide.

How dare she?! After he’d given her the privilege of such intimate contact with him. How dare she abuse his generosity? And so carelessly at that! He knew that she wasn’t thinking when she’d done it and that somehow infuriated him more than if she’d done it deliberately. It would have at least shown that she wasn’t as cowardly as he thought.

His chest buzzed in fury and static. He needed to think of a way to punish the little brat. Something severe but hidden so as not to trample the princess of Hell’s good sensibilities. It wouldn’t do to have her get in the way of his punishment. Something to make Ynna scared, make her cry and beg for mercy. He wanted to wear her down with sandpaper and grind her into dust.

The image of her crying face flashed into his mind. A shock of static filled the room, bulbs flickering with its passing.

“Dammit.” 

With a huff, he forced himself into a trance, the only way  he would be able to sleep while he was so wired. Words of power flowed from his lips, strung like a melody, laced with magic.

The spell was cast and his consciousness was falling, falling into a familiar void. Red eyes opened casting a red glow from their shine but they saw nothing as his mind had already sunk into the realm of dreams.

He brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders after throwing the goat demon out. Behind the closed door, she whimpered. She’d land with a loud and painful thud, appeasing some of his anger, but not enough. Not even close to enough. His chest still buzzed with unknown energy, the need to do something clawing at his insides. Usually, it meant that he needed to maim, kill, destroy. But as he opened a portal to some soon to be unfortunate location, it felt like the wrong course of action.

He glitched in frustration. He needed to think.

Taking deep breaths to calm himself, he tried to identify the feeling so he could figure out how it could be satisfied. It was triggered by Ynna eating his velvet. 

The deep breathing worked its magic as his form receded back to its usual shape. Bracing himself for whatever onslaught of feelings he was about to unleash, he forced himself to replay Ynna’s image in his mind again.

Tearful eyes broadcast her desperation and fear. Blood had flowed from where his claws cut her skin. Beneath his palm, her jaw clenched and relaxed. He imagined her tongue swiping across her teeth. The smooth muscle traveled over white fangs, teeth now shaperned from their usual bluntness. It would have been the only way she could chew through it. A thrill zipped through his chest and his skin prickled as he imagined her sharpened teeth puncturing the skin, first shy nibbles then, rough tears. 

There was still blood on the velvet. She suckled on it as she worked the piece in her mouth. Heat traveled up his arm as he felt the phantom movement of her throat on his palm as she swallowed that piece of him, eyes closed as if committing the taste of him to memory.

The vibrations intensified, feeling as if they would knock him off his feet.

Immediately, it hit him what these unfamiliar feelings were. Desire and Arousal. As evidence, the front of his trousers were now painfully tight, his lower half awakened.

Revulsion followed the discovery. 

Desire, he could accept; he even welcomed it. After all, to want came naturally to him. Want to kill, want to eat, want to overthrow. A greedy being he was, always wanting and taking to satisfy his desires. 

But Arousal…He hadn’t felt this need since his pubescent years, all but eliminated in adulthood. It was the one desire that was never worth the effort. The hunt had been far more stimulating and brought him greater satisfaction than pleasures of the flesh could.

Disdain once again filled him for Ynna who was the cause of this, his displeasure almost turning his grin into sneer. Had the twit thought things through, they could have had a lovely evening without feeling all…this. 

The feelings identified, he now knew how to handle it. They would resolve themselves eventually. He couldn’t bring himself to take care of them, too insulted that an idiotic twit had triggered them.

Huffing in disgust, he straightened himself up and set about tidying his space. He set fire to the velvet that remained on the table, finding the morsels distasteful, the memory they presented marring his sanctuary. In fact, he set fire to the table too. The less reminders there were, the easier it would be for his…problem. He scowled.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Turning his attention to the door, he could already feel who’s energy stood behind it.

Damn that girl, was she too stupid to know she was unwelcome!?

He wrenched the door open, once again growing into his demonic form in a bloodthirsty rage. When he’d finally grasped a moment of peace, she came to wreck it once more. Enough was enough. He was ready to throttle the rude idiotic brat who dared to come back. He would rip her to shreds and get rid of her like he did all other reminders of that feeling. He’d find a way to cover it up so others wouldn’t find out. He won’t have his entertainment stained by something so brutish and vulgar and —

“I’m sorry, Al.” 

The scent of blood hit him before he could register the full picture in front of him. Her sleeve was stained red, rapidly creeping up her arm and dripping onto the floor. In her hand was a piece of skin at least a foot long. It must’ve been from her forearm. Her flaying knife lay in a pool of blood on the ground.

“I was careless and I didn’t mean to offend you.” Her lips pinched into a thin line and sweat covered her brow.

“Please forgive me?” She raised the flayed flesh up with both hands in offering; hands that were now dripping with blood. From them, he could smell not only her own but his scent as well, intermingling from whatever mess remained from his antlers. She looked up at him as if she was making an offering to a god, vulnerable yet determined. 

Something violently clicked as he met her gaze.

He was stunned, all murderous intent halted and vanished. She had those eyes again. Caring and sincere, blown wide from the pain she’d inflicted on herself. Her small form shook with the effort to keep still. He could smell her fear but she did not back down this time, even when faced with his semi-transformed and enraged state.

“If it’s not enough, I’m willing to do anything to make it up to you.” He felt that feeling again, registering the static that screeched as it hit. Desire. More clicking sounds echoed in his mind. 

As her blood dripped from the gaps of her fingers, a switch was flipped. 

He’d always thought her efforts to befriend him pathetic but amusing. For the first time, he’d thought they were fearsome. 

He had to challenge it.

“Anything is a big word, my dear.” He leaned in close to her, nose almost touching hers. Surprised, she flinched and backed away a bit. He followed her inch for inch, unwillingly to let her run away, until her back hit the wall. His arms caged her, trying to intimidate. “I don’t think you know exactly how big of a word it is.”

Despite being trapped, her eyes never left his. She let out a shaky breath, without a doubt feeling suffocated by him. His eyes focused on her mouth. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lip. Another wave of static screeched around them, the incessant clicking becoming deafening, only pausing to hear her say,

“Anything.”

Alastor awoke in pitch black darkness. His dream self had become overwhelmed. The static, the clicking, the scent of blood at the tip of his tongue, the breath brushing along his face. 

He took one slow breath.

He’d wanted to lick his cuts on her face, follow the bloody trails that cascaded down her cheeks. He’d wanted to stick her flayed skin back to her arm but also hide it away in the depths of his belly. He’d wanted to see his blood on her tongue as he fed it to her because she’d had the audacity to say she’d do anything.

And that damned word. The moment she said it, a fuse had broken.

“Anything.” 

Even now it echoed in his mind.

“Anything.”

He pictured her, the cowardly her in reality, trying to say it with her fear and stutter, always ready to step back when she put one foot forward. 

It failed to be less enticing, for he knew that if her offer was accepted, she’d go through with it even to her detriment. Even if she regretted it in the end.

“Anything.”

One final knob clicked in his mind and then it was finally silent.

Like when he’d fallen asleep, there was only tranquility. Calm had finally returned to him and the buzz in his chest was just thrumming static once more. It was the calm brought on by clarity.

He hadn’t wanted something so ravenously in such a long time. 

And oh, how he wanted it.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

Last night was a disaster. If you had anywhere else to go, you would have fled the hotel altogether. It started out so well. You thought you were finally establishing a friendship with Alastor. He was being creepy and gross but at least he wasn’t actively threatening your safety for his personal amusement. Then, your lack of impulse control got you again at the last minute. You still can’t believe you actually ate the thing. 

Once you’d gotten back, you tried to throw up in the toilet. You tried very hard. No matter how heavy the need to puke was and the heartburn it induced, you weren’t able to regurgitate anything but spittle and now you were awake, moping pitifully in the bathtub, facing the reality that you have ingested a little bit of the Radio Demon. 

Did that make you a cannibal, now?

You groaned into a ball as you rolled over in the empty tub, seeking comfort from the cool porcelain.

You weren’t happy about it. 

You could already tell that your mind was trying to block the memory but it remained vivid in your mind. Surrounded by red and shadows, his dial eyes popped with asynchronous ticking. The claws holding you pierced your skin, drawing blood. They were made from the same blackened bone of his antlers but sharpened to reddened points. The room that smelled of ozone, paper and coffee suddenly smelled of rotting flesh and pond water. You felt hot and cold at the same time. Static screeched in your ears, warping Alastor’s voice so that you couldn’t tell if he was growling or hissing. It was so horrific that you had to close your eyes or you would have fainted and who knows what he would have done to you then. 

He was the stuff of nightmares. And you could still taste him on your tongue.

The scratches from his claws had yet to heal and were evidence that he’d come very close to killing you last night. Maybe if you weren’t in the hotel, he would have. Maybe he would change his mind and do it anyway. 

You shook your head side to side in dismay. Seeing the morning light filter in through the small window above you, you felt the grossness of your body. There were crusty trails running down your cheeks, from your tears or blood, you weren’t sure. Your nails were still caked with blood and fluff from handling the velvet. And you smelled.

Reaching over to turn on the shower, the tap screeched. The high pitched squeak not unlike the one you felt bubbling up your throat at the thought of having to face Alastor any time soon. You wouldn’t be surprised if he cut you to pieces and just kept cutting again and again as your immortal soul tried to regenerate. 

Instead of soothing hot water, only a cold spray hit you, shocking you out of your misery and dread momentarily. Then, you started to cry. You couldn’t even mope in the shower comfortably. Today was promising to be a very bad day for you.

———

You weren’t planning to leave your room at all but Charlie had come calling. 

“Good Morning Ynna! Breakfast is ready!” The blonde chirped merrily at the door when you opened it. “Oh my gosh! What happened to your face?” Pale hands hovered above the scratches, cataloging each one and trying to figure out the best way to heal them.

“Was taking a walk outside and fell face first into a bush.” You made up an excuse. While you didn’t want to lie to Charlie, you also didn't know how to even mention what happened last night. 

“Ouch. We have a first aid kit in the kitchen. We can patch up your face while we eat.” She reached for your hand to lead you out. Her small soft palm was slightly comforting in these trying times, partly because you knew the blonde would protect you from Alastor if needed. As she strolled down the hall, you were too tired to protest against the Princess so you followed her to the kitchen.

The thought of food made you nauseous. It reminded you of what you were still digesting alongside last night’s dinner. Unfortunately, your greedy belly was growling for grub and you had always found hunger hard to ignore. You decided to get tea or coffee instead, something scalding hot to burn away the aftertaste that stubbornly clung even after you brushed your teeth. 

“Whoa what happened t’ya toots? Got into a cat fight?” Angel Dust swaggered to you and Charlie, slinging one arm around your shoulders, bringing his face conspiratorially close to yours. “Maybe a rough night?” His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, hoping it was the latter. 

You were rather proud of how you didn’t start retching in the corner at his implication. You didn’t even make a face. Alastor plus sex did not compute and your mind graciously threw the thought out the window before you could even try to imagine it.

“Got it from a bush.”

“You were an outdoorsy type, babe? I can give you tips to avoid that next time.” He laughed and winked.

“I’ll call you next time I’m about to fall into a shrub.” 

The closer you three got to the kitchen, the tighter you squeezed Charlie’s hand. Not everyone woke up on the same schedule so breakfast was usually you, Sir Pentious, Charlie and Vaggie. Alastor was up and gone early most days, returning around noon for hotel business. Nifty too was an early riser. Angel and Husker joined if they ever woke up in the morning.

There was a slim chance that you would encounter Alastor here. Very slim. But the chance was still there.

“Salutations dear friendsss! What a lovely day we have ahead of usss.” Sir Pentious sat with a stack of pancakes in front of him and his minions. You greeted him back, feeling a little lightened by his energy.

“Yeah Boss.”

“Lots of inventions to work on today.”

“I thought we were going outside today.”

“We had plans?”

“Good Morning!” Charlie chirped. While Angel took a seat, Charlie motioned to Vaggie that you needed the first aid kit. Still holding your hand, she walked you to the kitchen doors.

Scanning the room, you note the Egg Bois talking amongst themselves. Nifty and Husk weren’t around. Vaggie was sitting back down, waving to you in greeting. Everything seemed good. Something did catch your eye though. It was Sir Pentious’ plate.

Pancakes. You were having pancakes for breakfast. A snippet from last night crossed your mind. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, right?

On cue, the double doors separating the dining room from the kitchen swung open, revealing Alastor with a pot of coffee in hand.

“Hey Al! Thanks for making pancakes this morning. You know you don’t have to cook breakfast for everyone, right?” The Princess greeted the Radio Demon, unaware of how you minutely froze behind her.

“Not to worry, my dear. I was feeling rather inspired this morning.” His eyes finally turned to you. Just slightly, they narrowed, his grin growing just a tad wider. “Good Morning to you, Ynna. Slept well, I hope?” You were sure those eyes were hoping the exact opposite. You swore, Hell fire burned in them for a split second.

“Hm-um yeah. Good Morning.” You couldn’t bear to look at him at all, afraid he’d suck the soul right out of you. 

“Go ahead and start without us. We gotta patch up Ynna’s face.” 

“Oh? What could have happened there?” His face leaned down uncomfortably close to yours, examining the marks he left. His gaze caused your heart rate to pick up, anxiety shooting through like a bullet. You squeaked at his proximity. While not the first time he’d ever invaded your space, it was 10 times more terrifying today. 

Blood pounding in your ears, you leaned away from him and only replied once you had a decent distance. “Fell into a bush. Pretty clumsy mistake.”

“Hmmm yes, clumsy.” He finally backed away, smiling less wide and more like his usual grin. “Not all of us are born with good motor controls.” You heard the mocking in his voice directed at you. “Fortunately, we keep our first aid supplies well stocked for such occasions. First cupboard on the right, Charlie.”

“Thanks, Al!” The blonde led you away as the Radio Demon moved to take a seat at the head of the table. 

Your mind was whirling. Was that it? You expected him to blow up at you or at the very least, be more condescending. Was he putting on a civil front while the others were around?

He didn’t mention anything about last night so that meant he wanted to keep it between the two of you. His lack of violence gave you hope that you could apologize and make things right. You just had to wait for the right time.

“Here it is.” Charlie pulled a red tin box from the cupboard. Inside, bandages with cute little cartoon faces smiled at you. “You’re gonna need one, two…” While she counted the scratches and dug around to find the appropriate bandages, you reached for a tube of ointment. You’re once again so very thankful for Charlie and her hotel. Most demons couldn’t get medicine if they begged and those with money didn’t care for it. Why waste money on a cream when you’re powerful enough to regenerate quickly anyway? 

Spreading the healing gel on the now itchy spots on your face, they began to sting a little. The particularly painful ones were the longer scratches under your eyes from where he’d wiped your tears away. You repressed a shiver as you remembered how close those razor sharp claws came to your eyeballs.

When you were done, one big smiley face circular band-aid covered the puncture wounds on your left cheek while a cloth bandage sat under your eyes, across your nose bridge for the rest. It looked very severe but at least your wounds were protected from infection.

You pocketed the ointment to use for later before fixing yourself up a cup of tea. You would have preferred coffee but since Alastor had the whole pot, you didn’t want to ask for any. You thought it was best to give him space.

Once in the dining room, you took your usual seat and immediately felt fear shoot up your spine. You hadn’t really noticed until then but Alastor was sitting at the head of the table, leisurely humming as he read the newspaper. He usually sat across from you, at the right side of the head while you sat on the left. He had chosen a seat closer to you.

Your insides clenched in apprehension. Oh, he was definitely up to something and it had you quaking in your seat.

“Just tea for breakfast, dear?” He moved the newspaper away from his face.

“Y-yeah. Not feeling very hungry right now.” 

“Oh that’s a shame. Our conversation last night was what inspired me to make this spread.” His hand gestured to the stacked pancakes and bowls of fruit compote and whipped cream. 

“Did it? Haha.” You nervously laughed back at him, unsure why he was doing this. 

“Of course. It’s been some time since someone buttered me up with some quality humor. It was berry sweet of you to try so I thought why not have pun-cakes for breakfast as you suggested.” He set the paper down and gestured as he talked. You absentmindedly noticed that he was back to moving smoothly, dramatic sweeps of his arms and all. 

“I’d love for you to try it, my dear.” His eyes were just a tad narrowed as he spoke to you in mildly disappointed tones. From the side, you noticed Charlie starting to take note of the conversion. Knowing her, she would encourage you to eat to not disappoint Alastor who was being uncharacteristically nice.

“Hahaha. I see…” Your mother used to do the same thing, guilting you into eating even when you were already full. It never failed to make you feel bad and Alastor had managed to evoke the same emotions within you, with an added touch of fear thrown into the mix.

“You did say there was no batter way to start the day.” You tried to sound less nervous as you took a plate and one pancake, echoing his response to your pun right back to him. You hoped it would appease the demon some so he would stop looking at you so intensely.

Husk entered the room just then, hearing you make a pun.

“Oh Brother, not you too Ynna.” He sat in his usual seat, making sure to shake his head in disappointment at you while he did so. He mentioned once that having to listen to Alastor’s puns was an unexpected torture he didn’t know he’d signed up for. You smiled abashed at him before turning to Angel who sat on your left.

“Pass the maple syrup please, Angel.” The spider’s long arm was able to reach the bottle at the other end of the table. 

By the time you turned back to your plate to add the syrup, whipped cream and strawberry compote were already on your pancake, the cream’s serving spoon still in Alastor’s hand. 

“Ah ah ah. Try this, my dear. It’s an old family recipe I whipped up from memory.” He grinned as he stirred the whipped cream bowl. Down the table, Husk groaned again to which Alastor threw him a warning glance, toothy smile narrowing. If you weren’t so cautious of him right now, you would’ve been laughing at his constant onslaught of puns. He was unsettling. He never insisted on anyone eating his food, the man didn’t care enough. But now he was practically filling your plate up for you. If the others weren’t also eating the food, you would have believed that he’d poisoned it. Now that you thought of it, you weren’t entirely convinced it wasn’t. 

You swallowed your worry, feeling resigned to whatever retaliation Alastor had cooked up (hah!) for you. 

You ate the meal, surprised that your tongue didn’t fall out at first bite. Despite the knots in your stomach, the fluffy pancake was delicious. The compote was sour and sweet and a bit bitter, lightened by the smoothness of the whipped cream. Being a foodie, you couldn’t help but savor it, eyes closing to concentrate on the flavor. Damn, the man could cook. Even if this was poisoned, you would happily eat it at this point.

“This is fantastic. Thanks Alastor.” You smiled the first genuine smile you could manage this morning. It was hard not to when the food was so good. 

“My pleasure as always, my dear. My pleasure.” His words were growled, causing you to freeze. You could see him holding onto the newspaper tightly. Having seen you eat, the demon went back to reading and the morning went as normal. But not before shooting you one more terrifyingly intense glare, static sharp as you met his eyes. The fluffy pancake dropped like lead in your stomach. Did you do something wrong? But you did what he told you to? You asked frantically with your eyes but Alastor was already looking away, offering no explanations, choosing to ignore you.

Why was he being so hot and cold, offering you food and then being scarier than normal? It was so unlike him, usually letting his irritation be known with acts of violence and displays of great power. You didn’t know how to react. Left unsure, you drowned your dread with tea, its bitterness washing away what joy from the food Alastor hadn’t managed to trample. At least, you could hope for breakfast to pass quickly as you sat tensely at the table. You noticed soft static screeching coming from the demon. Alastor only screeched when he was angry so that had to mean that he was simmering.

“So I was thinking…” Charlie started to say. Everyone turned their attention to her. “We’ve all been living together for a while now and everybody’s made great strides in getting along and forming meaningful friendships with each other.”

You blinked at that. As you glanced around the room, you supposed that the hotel crew were the most meaningful relationships you’d formed since dying. As far as you knew, it was the same situation for everyone else, as sad as that sounded given how long some of you all had been in Hell for. And then of course, there was Alastor who didn’t count because he was Alastor.

“So I think we should try to build up our camaraderie by going on a field trip!” Out of nowhere, she pulled out a stack of brochures. The shiny papers were full of pictures of hiking trails and smiling sinners. 

“I read a book that said that ‘nature heals the soul’ so I thought we should go hiking!” Brochures were passed down the table for everyone to see. It looked like a typical travel brochure except the landscapes were hellish. It actually did look like a fun time, piquing your interest. You haven’t been outside Pentagram City before. You squinted as something caught your eye in the background. There was a blond sinner happily walking through a forest of charred trees with his friends. Was that a dead b—

The brochure was snatched from your hand by Alastor who examined the paper with interest.  

“We could go tomorrow? I know that’s when Angel has a day off. Is everyone else free?” Her lashes batted cutely, hoping to charm everyone into agreeing. 

“No thanks, Char. The bugs? The dirt? Not my thing, toots.” Beside you, Angel lazily spooned blueberry compote into his mouth. He’d forgone the pancake altogether which made you a little nauseous. It had to have been extremely sweet.

“Nothing to see outside of the city.” Husk said and Sir Pentious beside him was nodding. “I quite agree.”

Charlie visibly deflated before turning her hopeful eyes to you. She somehow managed to up the puppy dog factor in them to the point that you couldn’t resist, not like you weren’t already excited by the idea of going out. Not wanting to disappoint her, you prepared yourself to convince the others.

“Lies.” Scandalously, you teased the spider beside you. Mismatched eyes regarded you with slight interest. “You know you like to get down and dirty, Angel.” You nudge and wink at the spider. He gently hit you back with one of his arms, gold tooth glinting as he smiled. “True.”

You grinned in response before turning back to Charlie. “But I do think most of us are city sinners, not really used to long hikes so why don’t we find an easier hike to do, more of a walking trail than an actual hike? 4000 feet elevation up a volcano sounds harsh even if we have the stamina for it. Right, Angel?”

“Stamina ain’t the problem here, Yn’s. Cuz you know I got it.”

“Then is that a yes? Maybe?” To which he huffed a no. You leaned closer to him. “Come oooon. It sounds like fun. If I find an easier one, won’t you come with us?” You batted your lashes at him, using your ultimate weapon, your goat eyes. “Please.”

“Not the eyes!” Angel Dust had a fondness for farm animal eyes, something about how blissfully ignorant they looked struck his heart. It’s why he thought Fat Nuggets was cute. One gloved hand pinched your uninjured cheek in retaliation for using his weakness, fondly not minding your cheekiness one bit.

“Fine. Fine. Pick an easy one.” With a finger between your brows, he pushed you back into your seat as you giggled, grabbing his brochure to look through the options.

Alastor’s POV

“Anything” was a broad word, encompassing so many things yet nothing specific. Hours after the dream, he’d had more time to think and came to the conclusion that he was unsure of exactly what he wanted from Ynna. Was it her pain? Submission? Regret? Yes, those sounded lovely but also not quite right. He scoffed at the thought of wanting her love or adoration, believing these emotions too fickle to be of any substance. Fear, then? Respect? Again, close but no.

Sexual gratification? 

The thought made him shudder. Definitely not. It was something else, something more but it eluded him to the point of frustration. It couldn’t be that he wanted to devour her—

He paused, rethinking.

—at least not completely. 

With no clear picture of what he wanted, he could only start at the beginning. Watching her eat him. Despite the arousal it triggered in him, he wanted to witness Ynna take a piece of him again. He wanted to feel the thrill of it, to feel like a live wire, his body abuzz with energy threatening to consume him from the inside.  

With a sense of excitement, possibilities flitted through his mind. A subtle approach seemed appropriate, at least until he had a clearer picture of his end goal. He’d start small, build his way up and observe his body’s reactions along the way.

His plan started with breakfast.

—-

The audacious brat came down to breakfast as was her routine, though it looked like it was by the princess’ doing given how apprehensive she appeared. The injuries he caused last night were left untreated, something the princess wanted to correct. Had she told Charlie how she’d gotten them?

“Fell into a bush. Pretty clumsy mistake.”

So she decided to keep last night a secret. A wise move on her part, no need to involve others in their affairs, and it worked perfectly in his favor. 

Though small, he perceived her body’s trembling as he observed the marks he’d left. Poor dear was back to being terrified of him. He felt quite satisfied seeing her so rattled. It appeased the last of his indignation that had yet to fully subside. He decided that he would no longer hold a grudge against her as he’d won out in the end. The infuriating incident produced a new form of entertainment, one he looked forward to savoring.

“Hmmm yes.” He dragged out the word before pointedly describing her. “Clumsy.” She flinched a little, unwilling to look at his eyes and instead casting a glance at the exit. 

“Not all of us are born with good motor controls.” 

‘Some of us have no control over ourselves at all’, he thought sarcastically. She paled a little as if she’d heard his silent derision. Ah, he thought her one point more intelligent than his last evaluation. It seemed the little goat could perceive his disdain well, unlike the princess who remained cheerfully unaware.

“Fortunately, we keep our first aid supplies well stocked for such occasions. First cupboard on the right, Charlie.”

Finding adequate amusement in Ynna’s discomfort, he thought it was time to put his plan into action. He had the perfect opportunity as the girls disappeared into the kitchen.

“Coffee, anyone?”

The carafe was passed around until there was just enough for two more cups. Filling his own, he discreetly cut his finger. Blood mixed with the rest of the drink, which he would kindly offer to Ynna who looked as if she’d had a sleepless night. Its bitterness would mask the new ingredient. It wasn’t exactly his flesh but it was close enough, for now. He would use this opportunity to test just how much he needed to give to elicit his body’s reaction.

His excitement was short-lived when she emerged from the kitchen, stupidly holding a cup of tea. Green tea at that. He wouldn’t be able to hide anything in the clear liquid. How vexing. 

Displeased, he pretended to read the daily paper, trying to find an opportunity to slip something into her meal. From the corner of his eye, precisely why he chose this seat, he spied her tensed form, flinching when she’d noticed his position. It looked like she had no plans to eat at all. That wouldn’t do.

An opportunity presented itself after everyone had gotten themselves a serving of breakfast. Choosing guilt as his weapon to subtly pressure her, he dropped pun after pun with the intention to lighten the mood and tickle out her laughter only to fail at both, her apprehension of him getting in the way.

“You did say there was batter way to start the day.” Oh, how he adored when people listened to him. While he was disappointed by her lackluster response to his clever word choices, only barely answering back with one of her own (really, it was his), he did successfully guilt her into taking some food. 

Her momentary distraction with Husker’s entrance only made it that much easier to slip his blood onto her plate, a spurt of blood blending into sweet strawberry compote.

He watched in anticipation as she warily took her first bite. Immediately, her eyes closed in bliss, her love of food shining through. A soft hum escaped her lips, very obviously pleased.

He inhaled sharply, eyes sharpening in focus.

While he’d been prepared, waiting for this moment all morning, the jolt of satisfaction from her pleased response still blew him away. His fingers clenched, putting holes into the forgotten newspaper. He hadn’t expected that. There was no way for him to have anticipated that she would enjoy it at all, let alone so thoroughly. Was she unable to tell what she’d just eaten? Or was it that his blood suited her palette?

The thrumming within him started anew, satisfaction feeling akin to the pleasure of a very worthy kill, heart beating in excitement.

He’d secretly fed her his blood and she thanked him for it! He felt like laughing out loud. What a joy, an absolute delight!

When her eyes met his own again, another pop of satisfaction filled him, static punctuating the feeling. He had to look away lest he arouse suspicion, only just barely containing the urge to watch her finish her meal.

Absently scanning the paper, the words were tucked away in the back of his mind in favor of observing the deep satisfaction coursing through his body. Static thrummed with his increased heart rate, taking all his effort to remain quiet and unnoticed.

Desire was there. He wanted to feed her more. 

Arousal as well, though to a much lesser degree. Its presence, though unwelcome, did not detract from the experience as much as it had in his dream and the prior evening. The thrumming in his chest trumped any discomfort it may have brought.

Pleasantly surprised by this knowledge and so focused on his internal observations, he had failed to pay attention to everything else that was happening. Pamphlets had been handed out. Glancing in her direction, a new sight that he’d never seen from her unfurled before him.

Ynna’s eyes were sparkling, excitement shining through. What had she seen to cause such a strong reaction? In his memories, the girl’s enthusiasm had never peaked as highly as this moment. Eating a particularly delicious meal had been the closest and even then, it was never to this extent.

Plucking the pamphlet from her little fingers, he read through the hiking brochure. Hiking? Climbing mountains? How funny and fitting for a mountain goat demon to want to traverse such steep paths.

Unfortunately, the others weren’t as excited by the princess’ proposal. Neither was he to be honest.

“Come oooon. It sounds like fun. If I find an easier one, won’t you come with us?” He watched her sweetly try to convince the spider, little pokes and jabs being exchanged between the two. It seemed she was determined to make the excursion go through.

“Yay! This’ll be so much fun. We can take pictures with everyone and have a little picnic—“ The princess prattled on, bouncing in her seat in excitement, when the spider had given in to Ynna’s pleas. His mind, however, latched onto a single word, one that presented another opportunity to chase that feeling once more.

“Might I give a suggestion?”

Chapter Text

Afternoons at the hotel involved cleaning the rooms. It was one of your chores that you volunteered for because you thought helping out around the hotel would ease your path to redemption. Unfortunately, the lack of hotel guests meant that most rooms didn’t need to be cleaned more than once a week and even then, only light dusting. To stave off boredom, you hung out with Niffty who still thought that there was cleaning to be done.

The small demon was busily scrubbing soot from a fireplace. How it had gotten dirty when no one was using this room, you didn’t know. You added it to the mental list of mysteries of the hotel, below how Alastor managed to put a swamp in his room.

“So we’re having a picnic tomorrow, right? Oh I love picnics. My husband and I used to go all the time. He was so sweet back then but he stopped taking me out on dates after being married for two years. I was a little sad but he was “working” all the time so what could you do? Did you go on dates, Ynna? Did you have a boyfriend? Were you married?” How Niffty had the lung capacity to say all of that in one breath when she was so tiny, you also didn’t know. You filed it away as another mystery about Niffty.

Fondly regarding the hyperactive demon, you answered her rapid fire questions. “Yes, I dated. Never got married.” 

“You don’t sound very excited at all. We’re talking about our love lives! Boys! Did you not like your dates? Were they that bad? Were they bad ? Did they break your heart? Are they in Hell? Do we need to beat them up?” She turned to you, eye wide, tiny hands on her hips and a kitchen knife ready to cut somebody. Where she stashed so many knives, you also didn’t know.

“The guys I went out with were fine but they were meh.” Large lashes blinked up and down, waiting impatiently for you to answer her other questions. She was really so cute with her big eye and tiny everything else. “No one broke my heart and I haven’t dated since I died.” Already her chest was puffing out. You raised your finger to stop her from speaking. “And before you ask, no, I’m not interested in anyone right now.”

“That’s so lame.” Although unhappy with the boring replies, they seemed to appease the demon and she went back to her work. It was fun watching Niffty. You sometimes wished you had the energy to do as much as she did. It would at least distract you from your worries about Alastor. His odd hot and cold behavior persisted through the morning, hence, why you were hiding with Niffty.

In leisurely observation, you recognized the little dots on her dress represented bullet wounds. You wanted to poke them. From what she said earlier, her husband started to neglect her not that long after they married. He may have been the one who killed her too. Or she probably killed him. Either way, it was sad to think of the tiny demon, alive and in a tragic marriage.

Niffty squealed loudly, bringing your mind back to her. 

“What was that for?” In her tiny hand was your intruding finger. You must've jabbed the dot on her rib. 

“Oh whoops. Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.” 

“You shouldn’t. I’m ticklish.” Her eye glanced toward your rib cage. “Are you ticklish too, Ynna?” She didn’t even finish her question, going for your ribs and effectively pushing you down despite her tiny stature.

“No— wait! Stop!” Gasps left you as your ribs were mercilessly tickled. How was she so strong!? It was getting hard to breathe with all the laughter her antics elicited. 

“Revenge!” The little gremlin cackled out, her assault unceasing.

“Ok! OK! I give! I’m sorry! No more poking Niffty!” Laughing together (really, Niffty was still cackling), you two got up dusting each other off. Have you ever been this silly and carefree since dying? 

“I still have so much cleaning to do!” Niffty’s cackling stopped as she glanced at the clock. “Shoo. Shoo. You keep distracting me, Ynna.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see ya at dinner, Nif.” The she-demon hadn’t heard, already flitting about the room once more. Opening the door, you checked the hallway. Seeing no one in sight, you turned back to Niffty. “Thanks for hanging out with me.” 

Your step outside the door was cut short, your face hitting a hard chest and knocking you off-balance. An arm came out to keep you from falling but it wasn’t welcome for long. Pain suddenly shot up your arm, muscles being squeezed too harshly causing you to cry out.

“Watch your step, dear.” The one you were avoiding suddenly appeared, gloved hand squeezing your arm with the intention to cause pain. His grin was strained, looking down at you in obvious displeasure..

“S-sorry for running into you, Alastor.” His hand tensed, causing more pain, static whirring getting louder. In front of you eyes, the world seemed to disappear into black behind him, your focus drawn to his red red eyes. You wanted to get away, jump back and hide but his grip remained steadfast. “Could you please let go of my arm…you’re hurting me.”

“Al! You shouldn’t treat a lady like that!” Somehow hearing the last bit of your plea despite it being mumbled, Niffty scolded Alastor. Just like that, the red edges that had started to appear around Alastor reverted back.

“I apologize, my dear. Seems I don’t know my own strength.” Letting go of you and stepping back a reasonable distance, the demon reverted back to a more jovial appearance. “Need I remind you about how I don’t like to be touched?”

“No need. I’ll be more careful next time. I just didn’t see you there, Alastor.” His arms reached out, straightening your collar and gently patting the arm he’d injured. Despite the gentle contact, you were strongly fighting the urge to jerk away, distrust and fear melding with every throb of your injured arm.

“Girls are delicate, Al. You can’t treat them so roughly just because they accidentally touched you.” Alastor’s eyes narrowed at the cyclops, a sign of annoyance that you'd become familiar with over the months and especially today.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. I should be watching where I’m going anyway.” Nevermind that you were certain that he’d appeared out of thin air. How were you supposed to dodge him when he sneaked up on you like that? 

“You shouldn’t let him get away with that, Ynna.” While you appreciated Niffty’s defense, Alastor’s smile was starting to stretch, each twist tying knots in your stomach, afraid that his power would leak out with his ire.

“It’s fine!” You perhaps insisted too loudly as both demons looked at you in wonder. Collecting yourself, you tried to speak more calmly, giving what small smile you could muster to the demon in front of you. “It was an accident. Thanks for catching me anyway.”

You weren’t in a position to get mad at Alastor, having not even properly apologized for last night’s mishap. You still hadn’t pinned down exactly how he felt about you at the moment. He was still mad obviously but was he leaning towards murder or some milder punishment? You couldn’t be sure so you at least tried to lessen any additional ire.

“See, no harm done. Now run along Ynna, dear. I need to speak with Niffty.” Without sparing you another glance, Alastor moved you to the side to step into the room. Though his attention was Niffty, you left with the feeling of glowing eyes behind you.

Alastor’s POV

“Why are you being so mean to Ynna?” 

Said girl speedily walked away, the slight trembling in her step not escaping his microphone’s eye. Bringing his attention back to Niffty, the ever gossip loving demoness was looking at him in curiosity. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” It may have sounded like he was feigning ignorance but he genuinely had no intentions of being mean to Ynna. Apart from pointing out her clumsiness this morning, he’d been a perfect gentleman to her all day.

“Yes you do. You’ve been flaring up your power at her all morning.” The little demon crossed her arms, unimpressed, her large eye narrowed in evident distrust. “I haven’t seen her that scared of you since she first got here.”

Well, this was new information to him. He thought for certain that he was acting as usual around the girl. It wasn’t in his favor to alert the goat of his interest, not when he was still exploring how deeply it ran.

“While I have noticed that she’s been jumpy today, I can assure you that it was not my intention to be mean to her. Why she’s reacting like that is her own business and I’m not privy to the workings of her mind.” That last part may have been a bit of a lie. Clearly, Ynna was still paranoid after what happened last night which was understandable as he’d been very close to ripping her jaw open for the offense. 

Now though, he wanted to see her do it again.

“Then why did you hurt her arm?”

“Purely accidental. I was as surprised as Ynna when it happened. Now, are you finished with this interrogation? There’s a cockroach outbreak on the third floor that needs handling.” The gremlin’s line of questioning was starting to irritate him. Narrowing his eyes, he signaled his annoyance to her, which the little imp promptly ignored in favor of speaking her mind.

“Well, now you know that you’re freaking her out so try being less of a creep than usual, Al.”

“I’m perfectly capable of judging how to act around others, Niffty. Don’t tell me what to do.” Shadows rose from the edges of his vision as he finished speaking. If she insisted on chastising him any longer, he would gladly display what it actually meant for the Radio Demon to ‘flare up.’ 

Seeing that she had toed the line, the gremlin wisely decided to drop the conversation.

After seeing Niffty take herself to her new assignment, he made a detour to his suite to check on his condition. Looking at himself in the mirror, a light flush colored his reflection.

How embarrassing it was to realize his attempts to suppress his new feelings around the goat had been unsubtle. It couldn’t be helped. Ever since he’d found another chance to feed her, he’d been brimming with excitement, barely able to contain himself. New recipes popped into his head every time he saw her, anticipation bubbling in the cauldron of his mind…and apparently leaking out.

Never in all his years had he felt this inability to control himself. Even in life, he had been able to contain the glee he felt after murder, the pride that brimmed as the baffled detectives chased countless deadends, the mockery as said detectives shared case details to the very scoundrel they were searching for. No one had known it was him until the very end. He was just that good.

Maybe his time in Hell had blunted his ability to mask his emotions. Decades had passed since he had a true need to do so. Still, being called out for such juvenile mistakes was mortifying. He will have to do a better job if only to avoid unwanted nosy cretins butting in where they didn’t belong.

In the privacy of his en suite, he removed his overcoat and shirt. The bandages covering his stomach were beginning to drip blood. Sending a shadow to fetch a first aid kit, he unraveled the stained cloths, slowly revealing the flat expanse of his stomach. Where smooth beige skin should stretch over lean muscle, a bleeding square patch of sensitive new skin appeared, his skinned abdomen. It was only an hour ago that he painstakingly peeled off that expanse of flesh to dry brine for tomorrow’s treat.

His fingers hovered over the wound, magic prodding to determine the extent of the damage and encourage healing.

His run in with Ynna had reopened it, skin too new to absorb even the light impact of her body.

It was a miscalculation on his part. He wanted to get in Ynna’s face, pop up in surprise, just to see her reaction, feel a zing of delight pass through his core with her frightened glance. He was not expecting the girl to exit the door so quickly. 

As he held her arm to steady her, the skin fibers of his belly tore asunder. Flustered and already off-balanced in their collide, pain ripped through his belly and he unintentionally held onto her too tightly, a fact that he regretted deeply. Niffty had been right. Unintentional as it was, causing harm to the girl was mean of him. His mother wouldn’t have approved of how he’d handled it.

Redressing the wound, he pondered Niffty’s other warning. Ynna’s fear of him would become apparent to the rest of the hotel denizens, at least, those with enough awareness for such things. He needed to reassure her that her fear was unwarranted, that he had no plans to harm her. He decided that the best course of action was a peace offering, a way to make up for his mistake and earn back her ease.

Staring into the bathroom mirror, dial eyes looked back at him. Their ticking sounds like clock hands turning, turning back time. Her pained expression as she’d pleaded to him appeared in his mind, adorable in her shock and incredulity.

Yes, he would make it up to her. 

After he got to see that face a few more times.

Ynna’s POV

From afternoon to evening, each encounter with Alastor had some sign of his negativity towards you. His static broke and screeched when you passed by. Sometimes his eyes glowed when your eyes met. He popped out of nowhere, so close and unexpected that you inevitably bumped into him. 

Thankfully, he didn’t hurt you again after Niffty had scolded him but it was implied that he could, claws always flexing on your shoulders when he pushed you away for accidentally touching him.

He was doing this on purpose! Your nerves were strung taut, constantly on the lookout for him. Where was he going to pop out next? Would he hurt you again? Can’t this just be over with? He was driving you insane!

The stress had built up to such a degree that Husk started to give you weird looks. You couldn’t even remember what you had for dinner because you inhaled it as quickly as you could to get away from him. If only you could pass on your chores or feign some sickness but you honestly didn’t want to draw anymore attention than you had already. 

Avoiding him had become such a priority that you resorted to asking Charlie to help you with the dishes just so you wouldn’t be alone with him. And Charlie, her grandfather bless her heart, despite being royalty, the lovely girl happily offered her help.

At the sink, both of you chatted softly as you washed the dishes and she dried them. Behind you, Alastor was humming, doing his own thing as he usually did. From outside looking in, it was a peaceful and mundane post-dinner cleanup. On the inside, you were aware of the tendrils of Alastor’s eldritch magic brushing against your back. Or it could have been the air conditioning. You didn’t have the courage to find out.

Sighing internally but keeping up a cheerful face, you lamented the loss of your quiet time with Alastor; it had become one of your favorites throughout the day. Now, it was just torture and you had only yourself to blame, doubly so as you still couldn’t find the guts (specially with how today went) to apologize to the man.

Curiously, Alastor didn’t say anything about Charlie joining you, not even a crinkle in his eye even though he’d sent you so many intense stares all day. 

“So I was thinking that if the hike goes well, we should do some other fun things as a group.”

“We’ll see how things go first. We gotta take it one step at a time.” Your mind drifted off to other possible adventures your group could do, finding very few wholesome outings given the nature of services offered in Hell.

“I know, you’re right. It’s just, I was hoping things would be going a lot faster than they have been.” The princess drooped beside you. “Hey Ynna?”

“Hmm?” 

“You haven’t been in Hell for as long as most of us. You haven’t become as jaded as most of its people have. Can you be honest with me? Do you think that what we’re doing here…has a chance?” You didn’t need to look at her to know that her doubts and insecurities had resurged from wherever the princess kept them locked up tight, a Pandora’s gigantic security vault of worries within the girl.

“Come here, Char.” Softly beckoning, your arms wrapped around the taller girl, giving her a comforting squeeze. At times like these, you wished you had more than cliche sayings in your head to help lift the girl up from her struggles. Unfortunately, you weren’t that gifted for words.

“I think…well.” It was hard to articulate exactly how you felt. People didn’t change unless they wanted to or were pushed to the edge. Before coming, you had never met anyone who ever thought about finding a way out of Hell. When you saw the commercial, you were skeptical and only went in hopes of finding shelter before the next extermination. You came to the hotel with almost no belief that it would work…but Charlie and everybody gave you a place you could call home for the first time. Even the terrifying Overlord, who you were sure was listening to this conversation, became a part of that home.

“Charlie, you give me hope that things can change. I’m sure others think like that too.” Your throat clenched, afraid that you were going to say the wrong thing. What did they say was a good way to do these kinds of things? Compliment sandwich? “You created something that’s never been thought of before and because you created a path, you created a chance when there wasn’t before.”

“Thanks Ynna. That means a lot.” She looked at you relieved and grateful, her brightness returning slowly. You wanted to give her something stronger to hold on to than the words you said because what she wanted, what she dreamed of, hadn’t ever been done before. There were going to be so many more days that she’d face failure after failure and seemingly endless disappointment, with you possibly being one of those, as a guest at the hotel.

“Can I offer some advice? I know you wanted my opinion because you’re probably feeling bad so I’m not sure if you’d want someone telling you what to do.”

“Sure. Go ahead.” She seemed hesitant but gave you permission anyway. 

“You shouldn’t base your hopes on someone else’s opinion.” Your nose felt spicy as you tried to get the words out, throat clenching around your words.

“What?” She looked stricken at your change of tone but you plowed on hoping that you were giving her good advice.

“People…People are flawed and they change all the time. They fail each other and themselves all the time. You can’t build your confidence and conviction on something as unstable as people’s opinions.” Slowly, you deliver your thoughts trying your best to convey that there was a high chance she would fail without saying it outright.

“You…you should build your hope on a fact. Like, no one thought that humans could ever fly. It was impossible until two brothers persisted and created the first airplane. 60 years later, humans went beyond the sky and landed on the moon.” Letting go of her, you looked into her eyes. “This means that there is evidence that what’s impossible today just needs time and persistence and the (w)right opportunity.”

At this point, your throat burned from both embarrassment and nervousness. Having heart to hearts with people was difficult. In wanting to be completely honest and genuine, you opened yourself up to conflict and rejection. What if you said something bad? What if it was totally worthless? Or maybe you didn’t even get your point across correctly. Trying to paraphrase cool things you’d heard from somewhere that you thought were relevant to the situation was damned hard!

“Wow. Haha. Ynna. I was the one who was feeling down. Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Though she said that, reaching a pale hand to offer her comfort, she looked like she wanted to cry too. She truly was a lovely girl, the kindest soul in Hell.

“I just…I know you’re hoping I can be redeemed Charlie and while I want to believe it can happen, there’s a big chance that I’ll disappoint you. That’s why, if I turn out to be a failure, please don’t think it’s your fault. I think you’re doing a great thing here. You’re giving what’s impossible a chance to happen.” You hugged her, squeezing tightly to convey how precious she was. “Please don’t ever stop.”

“ *sniffle* Thank you… *sniffle* for believing in me. It…that…” Both of you were trying very hard to hold in your tears and failing miserably. You sympathized with the girl whose dreams kept being torn down by everyone around her, the result of her failures painting the streets of Pentagram City once a year. 

A clawed hand offered a red handkerchief to your face. Looking at Alastor in confusion, the demon only had his usual smile, no screeching static to be heard. 

“Dry your tears, my dear. It was a very lovely thing for you to say to dear Charlie. In moments of doubt, one must always find a guiding principle to hold on to. It’s only impossible until it is not. I’m sure that’s what you intended to share with Charlie, right?” He summarized what you wanted to say perfectly, offering a kind smile as he did so.

No condescending tone, no flaring energy. It was just plain Alastor tagging in to offer you assistance in comforting your crying princess.

“Y-yes.” You took the kerchief from his hand, once again off-balanced by his ever changing attitude towards you. The sniffling beside you called your attention back to Charlie. You tried to offer her the kerchief, feeling sorry for her tear-stained face.

“No. You keep it. I have one.” She took out her own from the pocket of her jacket. It was lilac and lace, each dab at her tear-stained cheeks, a moth’s sweet kiss.

Alastor’s POV

He’d been quite torn between leaving the room to let the ladies have their privacy or to join them to encourage the princess. His opinions on Charlie’s business venture were well-known amongst the group. No soul, devil or god could convince him that a sinner could be redeemed. 

Even sweet Ynna, who by comparison was the cleanest sinner among the group (barring her moments of unintentional cannibalism), didn’t fully believe that she could be redeemed. That she’d told Charlie so was a point in her favor. No use sugarcoating the truth from the girl. 

With both women crying, it was only proper that he as a gentleman and Charlie’s business partner show his support. Quietly making his way to them so as not to startle the delicate girls, he prepared himself for the onslaught of feelings that accompanied Ynna’s attention, their intensity would distract him from his task. But perhaps the atmosphere had been too heavy as for the first time that day, he hadn’t felt a shooting spark in his chest as his eyes met Ynna’s own. Could her effect have already diminished so soon?

Her teary expression was messy and pathetic as she took his offered handkerchief, apprehension still clouding her eyes. She murmured her thanks, barely audible in the silent kitchen, eventually wiping her tears with his offering.

Ahhhhh, there the buzz was. 

Unlike earlier instances, where its intensity came sudden and electrifying, this feeling was more of a low rumble in his chest, like purr of a car engine. Committing her face to memory to study this new reaction at a later time, he turned his attention to Charlie, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. 

“If you don’t mind hearing my thoughts, Charlie, my dear, you have a unique vision and I am happy to fulfill your bizarre requests.” Her pale hand came up to squeeze his own, first seeking comfort and then expressing gratitude. “Your efforts have been impressive and I believe that I can speak for at least Ynna and myself that we are very proud of you.” 

Indeed, Charlie had exceeded his expectations, somehow managing to keep the hotel running for so long and managing to attract a guest with some intention of redemption. He was very proud to have chosen a hard-working and creative candidate to provide him with entertainment. His days had been rather colorful since meeting the young woman and his time at the hotel proved fruitful.

His words of encouragement struck a chord with the princess causing her to shed a few more tears. Discomfort started to bubble up within him, encroaching on the pleasant thrum from earlier. His words had meant to make her smile, bring back her joy. He supposed that he had done his part to be supportive, perhaps what she needed was space. 

He was about to remove his hand when another smaller one shyly took its place on the girl’s other shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze in solidarity. 

Charlie, in her emotional state, threw her arms around her two supporters, bringing them both in for a hug. He would normally cut such interaction off short but for the princess, he would make an exception this one time. 

As his proximity to Ynna lessened, he noticed the girl freeze, uncertain how to act in a group hug involving him. Her adorable reactions just fueled his buzz, warming his chest like fire and brimstone. Look at her trying to respect his space while also comforting her friend. Such dedication in the face of assumed danger.

Remembering that he had planned to allay her fears of him, he hovered his free arm behind her, a sign that he accepted the contact Charlie required from her friends. Gently enclosing the girls in his arms, Ynna took that as her cue and relaxed into Charlie’s and his’ embrace. 

For a moment, their eyes locked and she looked at him with gratitude, soft and lovely. Sparks of feeling danced in his chest, tickling in a delight less darker than what he usually indulged in. They remained locked in arms like that until Charlie had gotten herself back together, all bubbly and happy and rainbows in her eyes.

As they returned to their tasks, cheerful piano music played the rest of the evening, the warm thrumming in his chest persisting long into the night.

Chapter Text

“Hey Charlie, the hot water in my room isn’t working.” For the second day now, you were denied a hot shower. It really soured your already plummeting mood, taking some of the spark out from today’s outing.

To everyone’s surprise, Alastor suggested a forest trail for today’s field trip, a relatively easy walking path filled with lush (?) trees and (safe?) vegetation. His participation in the event planning was unexpected as he usually left those things to Charlie and Vaggie. Not only that but every detail about the Radio Demon gave the impression that he was a city man, uninterested in frolicking in nature. His shoes would get dirty. 

You apparently misjudged him as the demon went on to explain the path with detail, citing the perfect time of day to go explore and precautions to take. 

Naturally, that meant he would be joining everyone on the trip. Disappointment filled you and your stomach churned. You had hoped that he’d be uninterested and that you could spend some time away from him, still unsettled by his flip-flopping treatment of you yesterday.

Seeing the blonde princess happily checking the supplies for the day, a bit red-eyed but bushy-tailed nonetheless, you thought back to last night and how comforting Alastor had been. Everyone knew that he was only in the hotel to get his shits and giggles, eternity dragging on for an almighty Overlord. While you didn’t trust that he had Charlie’s best interests at heart, you could still feel that he meant the words he’d said to Charlie. To top it off, he’d not made a single daunting move until the end of the evening.

And how the evening had ended! It was peaceful and serene with just the radio playing, everyone content. For a day that had been mostly terrible, it had somehow ended on a perfect note. It left you unsure about what to expect from Alastor today.

“Your shower isn’t working?” Charlie looked up from her checklist for today’s activities. She was wearing denim jeans today, heeding Alastor’s warning about poison ivy and bugs. Vaggie too wore pants to protect her from vegetation. The cute couple were matching.

“Yeah, I haven’t had hot water since yesterday.” Nodding your head unconsciously, you made a mental note to bring more drinking water before you left, the large bag in Charlie’s hand not fitting nearly enough. 

“That’s weird. Al, could you go take a look?” 

“Certainly.” A jolt went through your spine at the Radio Demon’s staticky voice coming from behind you, really close behind you. Given the amount of times he’d done this yesterday, you should have built up some tolerance but your heart begged to differ. It quivered and cowered in your chest, little tiny screams begging for the demon to stop sneaking up on you so much.

“Good Morning, my dear. Let’s hope to get this fixed before our outing today. Lead the way. ” Your heart hammered in your throat as your reaper’s red pin-striped arm went around your shoulders, turning you back the way you came. There was no time for you to protest or make a hasty excuse to get one of the girls to go with you as you were quickly escorted away. 

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You had no reason to panic so far. Only that this would be the first time you were alone with the demon since the incident with his velvet. 

Had the hallways always been this long, seeming to stretch forever to your room? Only your footsteps echoed in the passage, its desolation weighing heavily on your mind whose focus was trained on the only other soul in the space.

The intimidating arm fell from your shoulders. It left no hints of violence or threats of pain in its smooth descent back to its owner. Walking beside you, Alastor said nothing, his static a low and steady thrumming leading the way to music. Words from a foreign language softly crooned a cheerful melody to accompany your walk, the atmosphere sweet and unthreatening. Even when sparing a glance at you, his eyes remained unchanged.

This was the Alastor that you usually saw, the one from before your goof the other night. Why was he suddenly being so…nice? Was he…not angry with you anymore? Was it too much to hope that last night’s peace would be a lasting one? Maybe. This was the Radio Demon, afterall.

Bracing yourself, you waited for the other shoe to drop. Any second now he would finally make his ire known. Away from everyone’s eyes, he was free to act out whatever punishment he’d had in mind. Any second…now….

It was a wasted effort.

Not in the hallway, not even when you’d gotten to your room. There was no punishment from the Radio Demon. 

Standing at the door to your bathroom, the pair of you watched a shadow dismantle the shower head and knobs, searching for the problem.

“Thanks for getting the repairs under way.” Looking his way, you shyly started a conversation. While it wasn’t exactly quiet, music still coming from his radio, there seemed to be a tension that squeezed on your nerves. Or maybe it was just you, still nervous and waiting for the demon to do something , as was his character.

“Just doing my job as this hotel’s Facility Manager. No need to thank me, dear.” He sounded almost bored, finding zero fulfillment or entertainment in doing his job. 

Observing the demon, you found no signs of yesterday’s aggression. It was just a feeling, that maybe he had let it go, that he was no longer in a state where you knew no apology short of utter self-destruction would appease him. Swallowing your nervousness, you tried to appeal to him.

“It was bothering me enough that I just had to pipe up.”

Static buzzed for a moment, your heart surging with fright at the sound, before Alastor grinned wide and amused.

“I’ve had my fair share of unexpected icy sprays. It really does throw a wrench in your day doesn’t it dear?” Alastor chuckled, canned audience laughter accompanying him, your hope rising with each quiet laugh.

“Water the chances it’ll be fixed by the time we get back?”

“Our hotel offers only the finest services. As our lovely guest, you have no need to fret, my dear. We’ll get this little problem squared away by today.” Brows up in amusement, he leaned just a little closer, just enough for you to know that he wasn’t finished speaking. “I’ll make curtain of it.” Both of you chuckled, turning into full blown laughter from you as the laugh track played.

Just like that, all the anxiety, fear and guilt you’d accumulated in the last 30 something hours collapsed inside of you at the sight of his lackadaisical grin. Courage sprouted in their place. It was now or never.

“Alastor.” Red eyes turned to you, grin widening with interest. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course dear. What’s on your mind?”

You closed the door to the bathroom, not wanting even the shadow (that was rolling its eyes at you both) to hear your conversation.

Moving back into the main area of the room, you thought of what to say. How do you apologize for eating someone? Words were never your strong suit and the weirdness of the situation made it many times more difficult to find the right things to say. You so badly wanted to fix this, not just because his anger scared the shit out of you but also because you’d missed this Alastor a lot more than you thought, given how happy you were that last night ended amicably for everyone.

It had only been a day but you wanted everything to go back to the way it was, not wanting to avoid the Overlord in fear anymore. Not when you knew that he could be nice, his company soothing and even funny. This was all your fault and you needed to make it up to him someh—

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“I’m sorry for eating your velvet.” 

Snapping out of your internal tirade and suffocating with urgency, words left your mouth before you could fully process them. Your abruptness surprised both of you given how the man’s eyes widened ever so slightly but you could only plow on.

“It was extremely out of line. I really don’t know how to apologize for cannibalizing you but I want you to know that I deeply regret it.” You tried to say the rest slowly, forcing all your effort and care into them in hopes that the man would feel your sincere regret. As one-sided as it probably was, he was someone you’d considered a friend. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just wanted us to be friends.”

Like a deer in headlights seeing the crash as it happens, your eyes strained wide awaiting his answer. You felt manic, blurting out your apology knowing it had no finesse whatsoever. At some point while you were thinking of the proper words to express yourself, your hands were clasped together at your chest. Fingers squeezed in hope, in silent prayer to the god that threw you down here that your relationship with the man was salvageable.

Alastor’s POV

Compared to the apology his dream had conjured up, this attempt was almost laughable. How does one apologize for cannibalizing another? He laughed mockingly in his mind. One simply doesn’t. The other party would usually be dead and gone, no forgiveness to be gotten, words of apology said only to appease the sinner’s own guilt.

Yet as she stood before him trembling, hands clasped in unconscious prayer, he felt no derision for her, only the urge to comfort her…devour her…keep her in his belly where only he could hear her adorable words. She sounded so pathetic yet lovely all the same. The feelings she elicited in him were so foreign, so different and unexpected, bringing him seemingly endless delight.

He’d been in an especially good mood, the result of all the fun he had yesterday seeing her jump whenever he materialized in her immediate vicinity, her frightened face so amusing to him. 

Shivers had racked his spine when he thought of the treat he’d covertly prepared for her meal today. Already imagining her sweetly smiling lips as she enjoyed it, he had to take a few moments until other unappreciated reactions in his body had died down before he could start his day.

The morning brought a delicious realization: the thrumming in his chest had never left, smaller now but still going, lifting his mood further in anticipation of today’s plan. He was almost giddy, willing the hours to pass faster like a child on Christmas morning. If he hadn’t known the cause of his heart’s palpitations, he would have thought it was a disease.

Ah. An apology this early. How should he go about this? 

He had half a mind to continue teasing the girl, get to see her squirm and fret for a while more before giving into her efforts to reconcile. It may cause her enough distress to alert everyone else but he would have had enough fun by then so it wouldn’t matter.

Looking at her again, her wide eyes radiating sincerity and desperation, two images of her, the dream and the one before him, overlapped, the merge fuzzy around the edges except for her eyes, coming into sharp focus and trapping his gaze.

*click*

The sound reverberated through his mind, erasing the warm buzz from the prior evening. A familiar clarity and tranquility took over where it had died, allowing him to assess the situation more. Unlike the dream, there was no blood or pain or sacrifice being offered in exchange for his grace. Yet her eyes held that same look of sincere apology, desperately wanting to mend their relationship. 

He decided. He was going to challenge that sincerity.

“Took you long enough to come begging for my forgiveness. I was beginning to think you’d avoid me for the rest of your afterlife.” Taking deliberately small and slow strides, he crowded her space, watching intently as she cowered back, taking twice as many steps in her retreat. Even when she hit the wall, he continued his approach, slowly leaning in until all he could clearly see were those hell-damned eyes. “I’m a bit disappointed with how long I had to wait for this apology.”

As if prophesied, her movements followed the script written in his dream, each movement an exact copy from her breaths to her focused stare. Excitement pounded in his chest, electricity dancing across his skin. Drool pooled in his mouth in anticipation for her response. 

What would the real Ynna do? What would she offer for his pardon? What surprises would this coward of a goat demon feed him?

The answer was nothing. She would offer him nothing.

“I-I wanted to but I just couldn’t…” Before his eyes, his little coward transformed, each word she spoke seeming to grow her courage as she moved closer to him. He could do nothing but watch the scant inches between them disappear, waiting for what she would do.

From a hair’s breadth away, she continued her speech, whispering her words as if reciting a spell, electrifying the air between them to a frequency that played directly to his brain and setting off a series of incessant clicking. “I didn’t think you’d forgive me.” 

Startled by the sounds in his mind, he backed away a few steps, no longer able to stand against her onslaught. Her powerful gaze never left his face even as her small lips stumbled over her words. Judging that he’d moved much too far back, she began to follow him, her two steps matching each one of his.

“You were being well…with the eyes and the power flares ups and the appearing out of nowhere and pushing me around, I thought you wanted to kill me.” From this distance, he was able to take in all of her. No trembles racked her form, standing steady as a painting. Still so very vulnerable in her stance but sincere in her lack of overt aggression. 

“Oh I was thinking about it. It’s not everyday someone has the audacity to eat me, of all people. It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen someone do.” He spat out words meant to intimidate her, to remind her which one of them held the power to rip the other apart, to take back ground she had taken in this confrontation.

“Why haven’t you?” She stilled her approach, not in fear, he recognized, but in respect for his space once more. Belatedly, he noticed that they stood back where they had started, the realization awakening that feeling within him anew. Satisfaction washed through him like a tide, a rumble shaking through his body. She’d answered his challenge perfectly, more surprisingly than the one in his dream.

“Haha! You don’t have to look so scared, Ynna.” Bringing back a lighthearted tone, he approached her once more, placing his hands on her shoulders. She flinched at his gentle touch but remained still, listening attentively as he spoke. “After I’ve had some time to think, I realized that I’ve become quite fond of you. Enough to forgive you for eating a part of me.”

A silent gasp escaped her mouth, surprise and relief bringing a lovely sparkle to her eyes as if he’d given her a great gift. 

“You’re lucky I find your company so en-deer-ing.” He pinched her uninjured cheek for emphasis. She had offered him, the greedy and insatiable Radio Demon, nothing but excuses yet he felt as happy as a clam. Truly, he was just experiencing so many new things ever since the incident she thoughtlessly threw them into.

“Thank you. Thank you, Alastor!” With a jubilant cry, she wrapped her arms around his torso for a hug, discomfort filling him in an instant, stilling even the rumbling she had started. Torn between pushing her away and letting her continue to express her joy, she made the decision for him, dislodging herself as quickly as she came. “Oops, sorry.” 

“You’re fine, my dear.” Curiously, he felt no ire from being subjected to a hug, feeling rather neutral about it despite the discomfort it brought. Filing away that tidbit for later, he stirred the conversation elsewhere, a topic that brought bolts of shock and shivers as he thought about it. “On the topic of apologies, I believe I owe you one for your arm.” 

“Oh that’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Ever the gracious child, she had pardoned him despite his half-hearted (more quarter-hearted really) apology yesterday. She raised the arm of topic, rotating and flexing unhindered by pain just to show him.

“Well too late. I already made a gift to apologize and I won’t have it go to waste.” His mind buzzed with the thought of his gift.

“You did?” Her curiosity was piqued. Surely she would ask, little smile and sparkle lighting her face, and he felt himself giddy enough that he may give it away. It was best to leave now that they had both gotten what they wanted from this encounter.

“Yes. I’m planning to give it to you during our picnic.” Taking out his pocket watch, he absently noted the time, still plenty before their departure but he was unwilling to stay in her presence any longer, the shivers in his body barely suppressed as they were. “Speaking of which, I should get going. I still have a few things to prepare before we leave.”

“Ok. I’ll see you later.” With a weight lifted off her shoulders, she escorted him the few steps to the door, spring in her step like a prancing lamb.

“Til then, my dear.”

.

.

.

A shrill scream echoed down the hall after he’d walked a few paces from her closed door. It was followed by giggling from Ynna, no doubt happy to have not only recovered but also grown their ‘friendship’. 

Friendship. It wasn’t the word he would use to describe their relationship. From his perspective, he held too much power in their dynamic, sending her through bouts of terror and peace with just a flare of his magic. He struggled to find the correct words to cover what had become of them for he himself didn’t have a diverse portfolio of relationships to refer to.

Would she be the object of his desire? Technically, it was the emotions she stirred within him that he desired. She was just the vessel for which he could feel this newly awakened emotion. There may be other outlets available to him. He would have to see about that.

‘Perpetrator and Victim’ would be a far more apt label, as uncreative as that was for him. 

Her face as she chewed his velvet came to mind, jolt of desire almost causing him to stumble as he walked. Well, she was his most en-deer-ing victim.

——-

Ynna’s POV

You didn’t know what to expect from a forest from Hell but it certainly wasn’t this. 

Alastor had opened a portal to your destination and everything looked fine for a second until huge black tentacles jutted out, grabbing each and everyone of you into the unknown depths with the screams of your friends echoing the whole time.

It was hot and wet and cold and dry and you couldn’t tell up from down, the pressure of the eldritch arm the only point of certainty you felt as you traveled through infinite shades of black, green and red. 

Everyone, save for Alastor who primly walked out of the portal, was unceremoniously deposited on the ground of your destination, the forest on the outskirts of the western Pride Ring.

“How was everyone’s first trip through the eldritch sphere?” The red asshole kindly asked.

“Oh the lights! So pretty~” Niffty answered, eye swirling to follow the lights burned into her retina.

In various states of nausea, the group groaned an answer. Eyes tightly closed, you were on your hands and knees, still trying to ground the spinning world, hugging the dirt floor and concentrating on only one or two of your jostled senses. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. Now, let’s get along. We have much ground to cover before we can set up for lunch.” The chuckle in his staticky voice didn’t escape your notice. The all-powerful Overlord had many ways to travel through space, that he chose one so violent was definitely to watch the spectacle everyone was making.

Inwardly cursing the guy, you slowly got up, wiping your dirtied hands on your jeans. World finally steadied again, you took in your surroundings. Tall lush trees towered above your heads, the red sky peeking from the small gaps in the canopy. Moss grew on massive trunks, ferns covering the forest floor as cool mist surrounded them. Red sky aside, the forest looked exactly like those on Earth.

“This is amazing…” The scenery left you in awe, nature’s majestic beauty always having had that effect on you. Tears fogged your vision as you were touched. Never, since death had landed you in the vicious bustle of Pentagram City, did you think you’d see something so beautiful again.

“How’d you know about this place, Alastor?” Too busy taking in the sight, you noted that it was Charlie speaking.

“I come here regularly. It’s the best hunting grounds for game meat in the area.”

“Wait, are you saying this is where you got the deer from last time?” That was Vaggie, sounding curious, disturbed and angry at the same time. You wondered when she’d seen Alastor with a deer and what she’d seen for her to sound just a smidge disgusted. 

“You hunt, Alastor?” Noting that he wore his usual attire despite warning everyone else to wear appropriate clothing, you were surprised by the new fact you learned about your companion. 

“Yes. It’s a hobby I’ve had since before I got here.” Using his microphone as a placeholder, he cocked the staff onto his shoulder, taking aim and pulling the imaginary rifle. Reaching into your imagination, the small details you’d come to know about him painted a picture in which this new knowledge fell into place. A young radio show host in Louisiana, hunting on the weekends. She was sure it wasn’t always animals he shot.

“Deer?” Looking up at his tiny (now clean) antlers and back to his face, you pointed out the irony of what he was describing.

“I’m not very picky but venison was always a personal favorite.” As a man with self-awareness, he grinned widely at catching your meaning, completely amused by the deadpan expression you were sending him. You should have expected that answer from a cannibal. You could only snort at your friend’s creepiness.

With everyone ready to go, Alastor led the pack through the very small and unused trail he’d picked.

“So like, what do we do? Are we just gonna walk the whole time?” Angel Dust took his place beside you, choosing to bother you since you were the one who insisted the spider come. 

“Yep. We can talk too.” Unlike him, you were bursting with energy, feet moving of their own accord to follow down the lightly beaten pathway. Hooking your arm to the spider’s lower arm, you cheerfully continued as you were, happy and content for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Arggh that sounds so boring. Knew this was gonna be lame.” He crossed his upper limbs, slumping forward in a pout, his free arm already bringing out his phone to start texting. Funnily enough, the reception here was fantastic.

“Oh come on, it ain’t that bad.” Swiping his phone, you opened the front-facing camera, bringing him down to your height to take a selfie while hugging him. “Besides, you look so cute.” In the photo you snapped, Angel Dust wore a straw sun hat and shiny purple shades. Always ready for a photo, he had a smirk on, tongue sticking out in a lascivious manner while Niffty, Husk, Sir Pentious and the Egg bois peeked from behind the brim of his hat.

“I’m always cute, babe.”

Ahead of you four, Charlie was squealing, likely happy to see everyone getting along. She was snapping pictures of everyone, trying to get candid shots as you walked. Vaggie was shaking her head at her girlfriend’s antics but still carefully maneuvered the girl away from any obstacle when she was too distracted.

Flipping the camera to take a photo of the three in front of you, you sighed seeing Alastor’s body blinking in and out on the screen.

“Alastor! I thought you only didn’t appear on video. Can we get a photo at least?” You called to the demon leading the trail. He leisurely turned back to respond, a teasing expression on his face.

“Hah! Not with that device, no.” 

——

Gossip and drama and dirty jokes were exchanged as you walked for over two hours, essentially being a rowdy bunch of teenagers the whole time. It was so much fun. The openness of the environment, empty of signs of other sinners and souls, worked well in easing everyone into a chatty and free mood.

More than once, you exchanged looks with Charlie, congratulating her on a well thought of outing. The girl was positively on cloud nine making you wonder if the girl had ever done a trip like this with friends. Her bubbly cheer made it worth the amount of effort you put into keeping Angel entertained when all you wanted was to savor the scenery. It wasn’t that you didn’t like talking to your friends but…you really just wanted to take it all in, let the peace and calm and beauty resonate with your soul.

Eventually, you all found a good spot for lunch, setting a HUGE blanket down for everyone to sit on. Sandwiches, courtesy of Alastor, were passed around as well as fizzy drinks that Vaggie and Charlie brought, the mood between everyone still jovial and friendly.

This was nice, you thought. So much fun that you felt like letting loose a little. Husk from beside you had an unlabeled bottle of alcohol, taking swigs occasionally from it as he ate.

“Hey Husk, do you mind?” Pinching your fingers to show just how much you were asking for, the bartender added a splash of clear alcohol into your fizzy drink. Tequila or vodka? Or maybe something else but you were willing to bet it was one of those. It made you wonder how the cat stayed sober enough if he was drinking hard liquor so early in the day. “Thanks.”

“Cheers, kid.” Clinking your plastic cup to his bottle, you took a sip. It was tequila, thankfully. 

“Ynna.” Alastor appeared on your right, taking a seat crisscross apple sauce. It was strange to see him so informal, especially in his red suit. His posture was still immaculate despite the leisurely atmosphere and seating so you supposed it still fit. There was a paper bag in his hands and you remembered what he told you this morning.

No amount of screaming into your pillow could exhaust the excitement and joy you felt from being friends with the demon. You didn’t have to worry about whether his flaring powers meant he wanted to kill you, or if you would get kicked out of the hotel for angering him or…if you could get back the fun times you had. When he wasn’t directing his psychopathic tendencies towards you, Alastor was a quirky and creepy gentleman with a mean streak that cooked really good food, which is what you thought he brought you.

“A gift to make up for yesterday, as promised.” You happily took the bag from him, surprised by how light it was. Opening the bag, surprise and delight shot through you. He couldn’t have known how to make this unless he looked it up specifically.

“Oh my gosh. Thank you, Al!” Beaming in happiness, you thanked the demon, ignoring the way his static broke as you did so.

“Hey hey, why does Ynna get a treat?” Angel, noticing the exchange, leaned over your head, his superior height making it easy to do.

Alastor’s POV

“Pork rinds?” Angel Dust squinted to take a better look at the opened bag. 

“Chicharrones.” Both he and Ynna corrected together. She was beaming as she looked into the bag, the treat bringing her joy just by her acquisition of it.

“And not for sharing. I made this just for Ynna to make up for a little mishap yesterday.” He tacked it on before the group could ask for a bite, the mere thought of it disgusting him. 

“This is for her arm yesterday, isn’t it?” Niffty, the little gremlin, blurted out, causing the others to look at her, asking for clarification. “He hurt her arm yesterday because she bumped into him.”

“It was an accident!” Ynna quickly clarified, defending him. It was sweet of her to do so. He was prepared to put on a show of humility to appease the others, having planned for this reaction specifically. By giving her treats in front of the others, he could establish a pattern of specially serving meals just for her in the future.

“Yet I still felt badly for it. I am so very sorry, my dear.” The others were sufficiently pacified by his words and Ynna’s insisting, bringing peace back to their lunch hour. 

“Aww. I said it was okay but I love this anyway. Thanks, Al.” Al. She started calling him by nickname, the single syllable bringing to mind images from his dream once more. Little shocks were starting to gather under his skin from her bursting joy at his gift. Any moment now she would eat and he would have the pay off he’d been waiting for.

“You heard the man, not for you.” Ynna playfully batted away the spider’s wandering hands, safeguarding the fried pieces of his skin like treasure. He spied a bit of greed in her eyes as she shooed the spider away. The little sparks were turning into burning tinder, slowly but surely setting his body alight. How much more adorable could she be, not knowing what it was that she held avidly in her little hands?

He couldn’t wait much longer. Taking out a small sauce container, he presented it to her.

“You even brought vinegar? You really thought this through.” 

“I had a little fun making these. It’s a cuisine I’ve yet to try so I took great pains to make sure they turned out correct.”

“How did you even know I liked this?” 

“I heard it from somewhere.” 

She opened the vinegar container, its sour smell wafting into the air, a scent that crinkled her nose but did not deter her from taking a crispy piece of skin. Its bubbled surface shone with a little sheen of oil, fried perfectly golden and seasoned with chili powder and salt. A perfectly appetizing morsel, if he did say so himself.

As she dipped the piece in vinegar, his stomach coiled in anticipation. Using her other hand to catch any dripping, she brought the piece up…and to his mouth. He blinked in confusion, not understanding why she was offering it to him instead of taking the bite as she should have, as he’d been waiting so patiently for.

“You haven’t tried this before, right? You should get the first bite, chef.” She innocently offered to feed him, friendly and oblivious to the torrent of emotions her small act of affability detonated in his mind. Many things were clicking manically in his head, warring urges springing forth, making him unable to decide the correct course of action.

While she was always forward with the others, she never acted like this with him. The usual way she would have offered him the snack was to give him the bag or by using her words to ask. Why was she trying to feed him from her hand? Was it because they had officially become friends earlier? Was this her way of showing affection to her friends? Did she do this with everyone!?

“Al?” Static screeched as he processed what was happening, causing the lively atmosphere to once again center on them. Unbeknownst to the others, panic and elation were fighting within him, unsure what exactly he wanted to do.

“Are you okay, Alastor?” Charlie was asking about him now. He needed to get it together! Grasping the frayed strands of his mental fortitude, he forced a metaphorical switch to flip in his mind, to shut down the feelings threatening to overwhelm and befuddle him.

“Yes. Pardon me. I was just taken aback, my dear. Thank you.” Taking the snack from her hand, he tossed it into his own mouth. His acceptance seemed to please her even more. Did she find the act of feeding someone pleasing or was it just for those she cared for? 

An inkling of an image tried to sneak into his mind, of her feeding him other things . The metaphorical switch threatened to flip back up, but he tamped it down viciously. Another thing to ponder for later.

“How is it?” 

“Delicious.” The skin was crisp and crackled in his mouth, sprinkling bits of fat across his palate, complemented by the chili powder and washed away by the sourness of white vinegar. 

She grabbed another piece, this time finally eating it herself. His ears honed in on the crackling, filtering out all other noises save for her teeth biting through his fried skin. Each crisp sound reverberated from the center of his chest, echoing and bouncing through his limbs. Ghostly sensations prickled along his abdomen around the area where he’d cut those pieces from. 

Glancing at him briefly, a smile on her shiny lips, she chewed through his skin with relish. Goosebumps rose all over his body, as if awaiting her touch though she had made no move to get closer. He imagined her little teeth biting and nipping along his belly, leaving marks on the  regrown skin. When she swallowed, his eyes followed the column of her throat, watching that part of him disappear into her, forever lost into her void. Her pink tongue darted out, licking a shy strip on the corner of her little mouth, savoring even the crumbs of him and leaving nothing behind.

“This is great, Al. What did you use? The flavor is a little different but it’s so good!” She popped another piece into her mouth, forgoing the vinegar, tasting only salt, skin and spice. His throat felt dry, an inferno blazing under his skin.

“I kept it simple and seasoned it with chili powder and salt.” The entire weight of his control was being pushed to the limit trying to keep that metaphorical switch down. Crunch. Crackle. Swallow. It was like stars were bursting behind his eyes.

“Must be good meat then.” Ah, this girl was driving him insane. If only he could laugh out loud. Desire and wicked glee formed a tight ball within his chest, arousal lost within the weight of their gravity. Each little one of her gestures threatened to tip the scales of his sanity. All the feelings he’d tightly leashed in the last few minutes, if he let go of his concentration, would burst with a reckoning.

And he was just waiting for the right time to let loose.

“It’s from my favorite butcher.” 

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

After a very delicious lunch, everyone was knocked out, too lazy to actually move and continue walking. Charlie called it in for the day’s hiking, instead opting to extend the picnic, which just meant lounging around until it was time to go home. You took this as the perfect time to slink off and take a long meditative walk that you'd been dying to have.

Finally having some quiet time, you walked through the woods, staying on the trail to avoid getting lost. The trees were actually different from Earth’s, now that you could look at them closely. Their leaves were just a little too razor edged, the shapes themselves not following any logic that could tell you about the climate in the area or any such details. 

Nonetheless, it looked beautiful when you didn’t look too closely. The quiet was soothing, only the lightest crunches of your steps standing out from the distant sounds of wildlife. Now that you thought about it, if there were deer in these woods, could there be bears? Animals in Hell took on slightly hellish appearances but weren’t much different. Of course, a regular brown bear was a monster all by itself and you were no match for one whether it was in life or death.

Turning around, you decided that was enough adventuring for you. Following the trail back, a rustling caught your attention. Immediately on alert, you got ready to react to whatever creature was coming. If only you’d brought a weapon with you, you would have felt safer. The rustling became more frantic, coming closer and closer until a four legged creature jumped into your path and landed with a crunchy splat, the sound twisting your stomach.

A doe, limping on its front legs and bleeding from its hind ones, fell in front of you. The collapsed creature seemed to have run out of steam, only its heavy breathing indicating that it hadn’t died yet. You slowly approached it, being cautious that it could get back up. 

It became apparent that there was no saving the thing. Its legs were broken and a large slash oozed blood from its back. Fat tears were forming in its eyes, fear and pain evident in its graceful face. Your heart stirred, all too familiar with slow and painful death. 

Since you couldn’t do anything, you just stayed beside it, morbidly fascinated by its dying form. It was a beautiful creature, everything about it bringing the word ‘slender’ to mind. Its long legs, bleeding and slightly dented out of place, were delicate along the forest floor. Its slender neck lead up to an adorable face that softened your heart. It was a tragic beauty and you wished there was something you could do for this fragile and delicate being.

Alastor’s POV

Lunch had come and gone and the hotel crew continued to chatter, no longer willing to walk. Ynna excused herself to explore some more, promising to be back within the hour.

He sat there, thrumming with energy, Ynna’s earlier display running through his mind over and over. He remained quiet, sipping his drink as the others talked about things he absently took note of. All he could think about was the need to run rampant, be free, let all his locked up emotions run their course through him and experience them to the fullest. 

With a silent chant, he casted a spell and the atmosphere became more comfortable, more soothing. One by one, the others fell asleep, the food and drink they’d been plied with working its way through their bodies and inducing nap time. That was good. He himself hadn’t eaten much, too engrossed in watching Ynna blatantly from his microphone’s eye.

As the Husk fell asleep, no more eyes could watch as he shadowed away, finally letting go of his hard-kept composure as soon as he finished materializing. It started with just shivers running down his spine, then bursts of feeling in his chest and then lightning bolts were shooting through his body. He remembered it so vividly.

She’d eagerly thrown his skin into her mouth, crunching as if she had chewed on his bones. Her lips pursed cutely, the sourness of vinegar on her tongue. Those same lips kissed some of those pieces when she’d pause her consumption to laugh at something that was said. Teasingly bringing it back up to her mouth only to abort when she wanted to talk, phantom sensations ghosting over his skin like cool breaths on his back.

The shivers were becoming unbearable, clouding his mind like never before. It was thrilling. It was exhilarating. It was frightening in its power over him.

He leaned back against a tree, antlers hitting the bark as they grew larger atop his head, sending more shivers down his spine just like when she carefully, delicately cleaned them of velvet. He turned around, holding on to the wide trunk and rubbed his antlers against it, chasing that feeling and the memory it invoked. Little hands expertly wielding a knife, a terrified face under his palm. It was hard to breathe. Every inhale was insufficient, the fire in his chest gobbling all the oxygen in his lungs.

He felt helpless and frustrated, unable to separate desire from lust, but the gouges in the tree made him feel better. Like stabbing a warm body. Over and over again, he rutted his antlers against the abused bark, drawing slash after slash, imagining they were knife wounds oozing blood instead of sap, stripping off skin in place of tree bark. 

He wanted to feed her more of him, hear the crackling of his skin like bones fracturing underfoot. He wanted her to feed him. Whatever was in her hand, just as long as she gave it to him. He wanted. Wanted. Wanted.

Long claws pushed into the bark, his hands using all their strength to rake deep slow gauges as he thought of her teeth scraping against his skin, eyes thankful and happy as she did so.

“Fuck!” This was too much. He needed an outlet. He needed to hunt.

He was much calmer now, sated by the hunt. In a span of half an hour, he had managed to devour at least 8 deer, doe and stags both. His hunger was satisfied, excess energies spent and now he was just tracking one more that got away with the intention of bringing it home for dinner.

As he walked through the familiar woods with a much calmer mind, he thought through his reaction. It had been overwhelming, more than he could have imagined possible. One factor for its intensity was most likely the duration of it as the woman had gone through the entire bag he had presented her, each bite prolonging the enjoyable agony. 

There was also the factor of senses. The sound had played a big role, echoing in his memory like vibrations on his skin. Sound had always been his favorite sense, delighting in the low notes of jazz, the buzz of electricity running through his radio, the scratch of a record about to start. It was why he chose his profession, not just to hear himself speak but to access music at his fingertips. 

To think he would add the sound of his skin breaking on teeth as one of his favorites. This endeavor to pursue the pleasures of being eaten was delightful. He was learning so much about himself. But he hesitated to continue. The feeling of it was addicting, a rush unrivaled by any other but the one of his first kill. The only reason it wasn’t at the very top was because he felt damned annoyed by the arousal it brought.

It was why he was hesitant now. This last experience had topped even the one in his dream but he could not stomach how his body had reacted, unable to enjoy just the desire and delight without the lust. And the intensity with which these feelings held him under their grasp had him reeling in shock at himself.

He was a murder, a psychopath, a depraved, cruel and greedy animal, but he was not that kind of animal. A man had to have standards.

Perhaps, he should pause his experiments. Let their novelty dull with time so that he could enjoy them in less extreme intensity. Yes, that would be preferable to losing himself so completely to urges he found unacceptable.

The doe had managed to get itself close to the trail, the path most animals wouldn’t take to avoid travelers. He expected it to fall soon given how he’d mangled its legs. It was impressive that it had even gotten that far away. He would honor the animal by making it into stew tonight.

Following its trail, he soon heard a familiar voice speaking in hushed tones.

“Poor thing. I wish there was something I could do for you.”

Ynna spoke softly to the dying creature in front of her, eyes looking on with the same fascination he’d seen as she sliced the skin from his antlers. She sounded unhappy, a little troubled. Her eyes were dazed deeply in thought, a look that he was finding familiar, and that’s when he saw it, her hands moving before her mind could catch up. Wrapping around the doe’s head, she twisted its neck with surprising force, the snap of it seeming to be the thing that brought her back to reality.

She gasped at what she’d done, looking down at her hands as if asking what devil had possessed them. Her shock and horror gave way to apathy and then sadness as she murmured an apology to the life she just ended. “Shit…fuck..I didn’t mean to do that…but at least you’re not suffering anymore.”

He heard the heartbreak and vulnerability echoing in those words, teasing his mind until the pieces locked into place. Little things about Ynna, how she sometimes looked far away yet able to move well despite her lack of focus, the incident with his velvet. How she couldn’t seem to stop herself until the damage was already done.

“Well this is surprising. I didn’t think that those moments of impulsivity of yours would take a darker turn. Is this something new or has this always been a problem, doll?” Making his presence known, the girl jumped from where she was kneeling, expression like a deer in headlights. It tickled something in him to see her face so surprised, a familiar feeling that he enjoyed, that he could control.

“Alastor…” Her shock ebbed away quickly back to the melancholy that he’d found her in. What difference one morning made of her reactions to him. Now that they had reconciled, she was completely comfortable and trusting. It was almost a pity that he couldn’t scare her like before but, remembering her bravery this morning, he decided that he liked this better. “You saw that, huh?”

“Mmhmm. I always wondered why a sweet gal like you would end up in Hell. You’re far too nice to be running around in these circles.” He walked to her with a teasing voice, amused to have discovered the answer to one of the questions he’d had about the girl. Her impulse control was sloppy, and deadly.

“The intrusive thoughts…aren’t usually a problem because they don’t happen a lot and they're usually little things. I mean, except the thing with your velvet and this…” Looking down at the deer, she’d adjusted its head with gentle remorse. If one didn’t know, they wouldn’t have noticed its neck was broken. “The only time I’ve really hurt someone was, well they died and that’s why I’m…here. At least, I think that’s why.” She explained her predicament is a small voice, rough with guilt and self-loathing. 

Her shame was delicious to watch. No wonder she wasn't confident in her redemption even though she was the model good denizen. It wasn’t that she wanted to hurt people, it’s that it could happen without her control and she only needed to do it once to damn her soul once more.

“So you thoughtlessly do these things and one day, it turned murderous. I have to say, it’s idiotic, dear. Imagine being cast into infernal blaze for all eternity, for acting on an intrusive thought.” It was pathetic and surprising. How stupid could this child be to not be able to restrain herself? And with only one kill, no wonder she was such a weak demon. He idly wondered if there were other sins she’d committed on impulse that weighed on her soul enough to drag her down. Cannibalism was the most recent one, he thought, not that she was fully aware of how badly it did.

——

Ynna’s POV

“Yeah, well that’s my reality.” Your tone was clipped, no longer wanting to talk about it. He was being an ass which was to be expected from Alastor. Of all the people who could have figured out what your problem was, it had to be this man. Anyone else would have been sympathetic. Well, maybe Niffty and Angel would laugh but they would get that you didn’t like talking about it and were great at getting you back into a better mood.

“The road to Heaven is straight as a stick and narrow. Some people just jumped right off and some…just weren’t watching where they were going. I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only soul down here in that predicament though yours seems to be something that can’t be controlled.” Was that his attempt at consoling you? Yes, given that it was Alastor, it wasn’t surprising that it sounded like an insult. You looked back at him then, his grin stretching wide, all teeth. “I could help you with that, if that’s something you desire.”

“No thanks. I’ll deal with it on my own.” The nerve of this man! First he made fun of you and now he wanted to own your soul! After he said you were an idiot too! You stood to your full height, frowning at the deer demon but he only slightly smoothed out his expression in response, still looking down on you figuratively and literally.

“Are you sure, my dear? In just the last 2 days your little problem has already added two more sins to your soul. I don’t think this is something you would be able to do all on your own.” The devil leaned closer to you, his voice lower as he continued. “As your friend, I could help. And it wouldn’t cost you your soul.”

A reminder of your mistakes set off a dam in you. He was right. The list of your sins has gotten longer, erasing all the progress you’d made. You’d worked so hard and yet…

Who were you kidding? You’d been living a good clean life since you’d gotten to the hotel and by all means, you should have already gone to Heaven. There was no more progress to be made. You were just stuck. You knew that even if you lived like a nun for all of eternity, it wouldn’t erase the careless impulse that you had and it was ultimately your downfall.

“What do you want?” Reluctantly, you asked for his terms, a part of you curious as to what your ‘friend’ wanted. Another part of you that sounded like Vaggie and Charlie told you not to make a deal with the Radio Demon.

“A favor of my choosing, to be called on anytime I want.” He said it easily, as if what he had in mind was a simple thing. He should’ve known that if it was simple, he wouldn’t have had to make a deal to get it from you. That’s what it meant to be your friend. You two had known each other long enough that he should have known that. And you felt a little betrayed. Just a little. He was a deal maker and you’d known him long enough to know that he would take advantage of sinners like this, even if it was a friend.

“A favor? I doubt there’s anything I could do for you that you wouldn’t be able to do yourself. You said so yourself, I’m an idiot.” What could he want when you owned nothing, no power, no influence, not even full control of your actions? Your throat constricted. You hated this. You hated having to think about this and remember how pathetic you were. The self-loathing and helplessness were so great that you wanted to cry, but you refused. 

“There there, Ynna. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. I’m sure there will be something you can do for me. Besides, the terms of this deal will take away that idiotic part of you so wouldn’t everything be better then?” Arms reached out to give you a hug, a surprising act on the demon’s part. He wasn’t the type to initiate intimate contact like this. As you looked up at him in question, he was unbothered, even sweet. He whispered comfort and temptation to you and you just wanted to melt away and forget this was happening. His red red eyes were hypnotizingly soft as he held you.

The only thing standing in the way of redemption was your inability to catch yourself. No matter how harmless your tick normally was, one sick and twisted thought was all it took to fall.

“…I won’t murder, hurt or torture anyone.”

There were nights where you worried that the longer you were in Hell, the worse those impulses would become as it became easier to accept the violence and depravity around you, and in your friends. Just look at what happened just now. You snapped a neck just because it looked delicate enough that you could. What if it got worse? What if you hurt the others next? If you took the deal, there was nothing stopping you from achieving redemption, nothing that could drag you back down. 

Except for whatever Alastor would ask of you.

“Oh that’s really cute, doll, but you’re far too weak a demon to kill anyone of import. Haha.” The mocking in his voice was softened by the small smile he had, not a wicked grin as earlier. He looked at you, eager and excited. “But I accept your terms. So do we have a deal?” 

The demon was smiling freely, already aware that he’d caught you. You felt resigned to your fate by his hands once more. Whatever it was that he wanted, you would do it and you would work on your redemption after.

“Deal.”

You were an idiot.

Chapter Text

You sat in the kitchen watching Alastor cook. There had been no improving your mood after you’d shaken the devil’s hand. When you got back to the others, you blamed your dark demeanor on seeing the deer die which was also when Alastor announced what dinner would be tonight. 

“Venison stew.” His staticky voice had said, proudly presenting the kill to everyone’s disgust before portaling it away. You’d had the urge to chop him up right then. He can be the damned venison, son of b—. You caught yourself. You shouldn’t be angry. Shouldn’t be angry…

You tried to think of happy thoughts the whole way home.

Now, you sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly as the man prepared the deer you killed. Well, he mostly killed it but you finished it. Ah, you sighed out loud. That was dark thought. It was a good thing he took your impulsiveness away.

“If you’re going to be brooding while you sit there, you can at least do it in the lobby.” The man’s voice had a bite to it, clearly a little annoyed with you, which was what you wanted given how upset you were with him for offering you a deal. And even more upset with yourself for accepting. While you sat in contemplative misery, he was happily working on that deer, cleaning and cutting, guts and other innards disappearing into his toothy maw. “Pass the salt, dear.”

“Won’t that spoil your appetite?” You grimaced as he cleanly disposed of the unwanted bits, jaw growing freakishly wide and drool leaking from the edges of his grin. He slurped some intestines like spaghetti, the noxious smell of it making you want to throw up.

While disgusting, it was fascinating to watch him work. He butchered the carcass cleanly and efficiently with clear expertise but he ate the discarded parts with freakish filthy relish. It was hard to stop watching the duality of it all.

“Not a bit. I always have room to spare for a good meal. Now, salt?” You walked over and placed the container into his bloody hand and just stood there observing him. The originally white apron he wore was stained in blood and viscera but the rest of him except his hands remained clean. A true image of a serial killer cook, like Hannibal. With feigned nonchalance, he turned to you. “Need something?”

“You meant it when you said you were my friend earlier, right?” It was really bothering you. The two of you had only reconciled this morning and things were going well. He joined in when you were chatting with everyone, teasing and snarking as he usually did. He gave you a great apology snack that you knew took a lot of effort. He seemed to genuinely care and wanted to be friends. So you were shocked that he took your moment of vulnerability and made one of his deals.

“Of course I do. You’re one of the few people in this ring that isn’t a completely lost cause in terms of company. While not as adventurous as my other acquaintances, you’re fun in your own way.” His response came as a surprise, so much that you zeroed in on him, watching his expression, his tone, everything to see any sign of deception. All you found was an easy smile that warped when he thought of something. “And a lot more refined, in some aspects.” Or someone, it seemed.

“But you still think I’m stupid.” That sounded pathetically self-deprecating. You almost winced at yourself.

“And you think I’m a psychopath. Who here has more questionable tastes in friends?” While you never said that to him out loud, it was still shocking to be called out like that. Watching to see his reaction, he remained smiling, clearly more amused than insulted. He probably thought you were foolish.

He was right. Despite knowing what kind of person he was, you had reached out, wanting to be close to him. He was just too fascinating to leave alone and it was nice to hear him say all of that. It was nice to have this comfortable banter. 

Your irritation with him gave way to admiration for his wit and honesty. Something about him made you want to be close, maybe it was the way he held himself with grace and confidence and style, but you just couldn’t stay mad for long. The way he smiled, a little mocking, a little vicious but enjoying himself freely, lit a spark within you for him.

It was too late to back out of the deal now anyway. No use holding a grudge when you could just enjoy joking around with one of Hell’s strongest Overlords.

You just hoped he was genuine.

“Well, I have no counter to that argument.” Slapping the countertop to signal your joke, you resolved to push away those stormy feelings and replace them with more affectionate ones. This was your friend. You would handle whatever shit he’d throw at you when it happened.

“We can table this for later when you think of something.” Without missing a beat, Alastor responded back with his own joke, immersing himself with cooking once again.

“I have a sink-ing feeling that I’d lose that desk-cussion.” Laughter was making its way through your chest and out. He butchered the carcass cleanly as you chortled. What once was a cute animal now looked like prime cuts of meat from the grocer. He even ate the whole head. In. One. Bite. 

You almost regarded him fondly. Why did this sicko have to be your kinda guy?

“You know, I’ve never had venison before. I’m kinda excited to see what it tastes like.” Changing the topic to something that might interest the disgusting showman, your off-hand comment got an eyebrow raise from him.

“I seem to recall you taking a bite only a couple nights ago.” With a lazy smirk, he dropped what sounded like an innuendo. He was referring to his velvet, of course. But you felt a blush rush to your cheeks because that sounded almost flirty. Alastor? Flirty?!

“Oh oooh no. It sounds so wrong when you say it like that.” Perhaps he didn’t get what you meant when you reacted like that, thinking your horrified face was because of the idea of cannibalism rather than the Radio Demon dropping some unimaginable charm into your banter.

“Haha. No need to fret, dear. Why, I remember my first foray into alternative food sources.” The man changed his tone and you felt your fluster turn to dread within you. He was about to say something gross. “The year was 1931, poverty and starvation was rampant among the population. So many orphans—“ You were willing to listen to whatever gross story he was about to tell, as he rarely shared much, but you drew the line there. Slapping the counter, this time to stop him from talking, you raised a frantic voice.

“Orphans! Please don’t tell me you ate orphans.” The idea of it sickened you. Of course you learned how terrible things had gotten at that period of time and it was certainly possible that some people actually…but eww no. You didn’t want to think about it. 

“Of course not. I have no interest in harming children. There’s no fun to be had in that. Now as I was saying, it was a warm summer night in 1931 when I caught a drunkard off the street. After I sent him to meet his maker, I grew a little curious, groceries were getting quite expensive at the time and—“ Cutting into the venison to emphasize just how he might have ended that victim, his nonchalance as he recounted the story was disturbing and impressive. Mostly disturbing.

“Aaand I’ll stop you right there. I don’t think I’m ready to hear this story but it’s great to hear…context? For when you started your uhhh diet, I guess. Haha.” You tried to gently get him to stop, not actually wanting to listen to the details (you’d probably get hooked and regret it) but also not wanting to discourage Al from sharing stories in the future. 

Alastor smirked knowingly at you, red eyes sparking with mirth.

“I’ll get out of your way.” You shyly smiled back, already making a not run to the door in case he changed his mind and started talking again. He had the voice to captivate an audience and he would wield it to your dismay.

“Dinner’s in 2 hours.” With a sing-song voice, Al started whistling, playing music from his radio as he started. He was getting into his groove as you left the kitchen.

“So I was saying—oh hey! There ya are, toots! Been wondering where ya were.” In the lobby, the group except Vaggie and Charlie, were having what looked like a serious discussion. They were gathered in a circle, huddled closely. 

“Was talking to Al.” Taking your place in the gap the group opened for you on the couch, you observed. Everyone looked amused though Sir Pentious looked nervous. Whatever they were talking about must’ve had something to do with him.

“Since when did you two get so buddy-buddy anyway? It was freaky seeing Smiles be all chummy with ya.” Angel’s arms sprawled behind you, face in a grimace to express his distaste.

“Hmm? I mean we always kinda got along but I think we’re friends now.” Making yourself comfortable, the others looked at you curiously. Husk seemed the most skeptical of the bunch and he made an aborted movement as if thinking better of saying anything. You understood where the cat was coming from. You too made a deal with the demon and only resolved to shelve your distrust just now. It was most likely worse for Husk who actually sold his soul to Alastor. You shared a look of understanding with him.

“Jeez. You’re the only sane bitch I know who’d say they were friends with Mr. Creepy-smiley-face.” You also questioned your choices, narrowly escaping what would have been a scarring but fascinating story from the Radio Demon. But what’s Hell without a few crazy friends?

“There’s Charlie?” You suggested.

“She doesn’t count.” True. The blonde would be friends with anyone she thought was even slightly decent.

“Oh! Oh! I’m friends with Al!” Niffty jumped up and down, hand waving in the air with a giggle.

“See my point?” Angel’s deadpan expression was accompanied by a smirk. He knew he got you there so you could only snort back at his smug face.

“Anyway, what were y’all talking about?” 

“What makes ya look at a guy and go ‘Ooh. I’d hit that.’” 

“Why?” It really was a surprise because, Niffty, you could see liking this conversation but everyone else?

“Sir Pent here’s got a crush and needs advice.” Gesturing to the snake man, he blushed a little, little tongue hissing out in reflex.

“I believe I should work on my appearance a little but…well, it’s been a while since I’ve thought to pursue anyone.” You had never thought the man to be cute, he was always a little awkward with his old fashioned speech and ways but seeing his scales flush a light pink was adorable. 

“I think you look fine, Sir Pent.” Looking at him once over, from height to build, you didn’t find anything unpleasant to look at, at least from a Hell standpoint. The comment seemed to make him a little happy as the furrow in his brow lessened.

“Not the answer we was lookin’ for.”

“So what is the answer?” You turned to Angel in question.

“Are you an abs or butt kinda girl? Whiskers here says abs. Niffty thinks butt.”

“Better to smack it with.” The gremlin made a smacking motion, totally misaligned with her childish build and stature. It was hilarious.

“Ahh. Both cuz why not?” You answered noncommittally. While you wouldn’t go as far as to say you’d bang a someone because of their hot body, not really ever feeling that urge at all, it didn’t hurt to look at something pretty. “But for Sir Pent, I guess abs would be the only thing you can work on.”

“See that’s what I was sayin’. Come on, Scales. Let’s see what you’re workin’ with.” Laying back onto the couch, Angel gestured for the snake to take off his shirt. Sir Pentitious seemed scandalized by that and you were once again reminded that he came from a time when that would not have been appropriate even amongst friends.

“Oh well…this is a smidge embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable, Sir Pent.” You tried to give him a way out. If he insisted that he didn’t want to, you’d dissuade the others.

“Naw, show us the goods.” Like a frat boy, Angel hooted good (?) naturedly. To which Sir Pent actually responded with an affirmative. 

The snake man untied his bow and got rid of his overcoat. From the contour of his white shirt, one could tell that he was lean-figured. As the article of clothing was shed, your jaws dropped to the ground.

“Oh.” Angel’s whistled slowly.

“ Holy shit. ” You and Husk whispered.

“Wowwee!” You all had to restrain Niffty from committing sexual assault.

Alastor’s POV

He hadn’t expected Ynna to take the deal so badly. Wicked glee had filled him after finding out what hindered her path to redemption. It was so simple yet the consequences were profound. With the new knowledge, he saw an opportunity. 

He’d been all too happy to offer to take away her problem in exchange for a favor, of which he had a few ideas . He had no worries that she would redeem herself before he could cash in her part. Unknowingly sinning still tainted one’s soul, after all.

However, taking advantage of the situation rightfully upset the girl, which he only belatedly realized after making his offer. In a spontaneous act of care, he pulled her into his arms, wanting to comfort her. It was an act more to lessen her ire of him than to persuade her but it had managed to do both as he felt her lean into him.

“I won’t murder, hurt or torture anyone.” Very specific, as one should be when offering terms to a contract. That she had only specified those three showed her innocence. There were so many other things he could have her do. 

Warmth grew from where her head leaned on his chest, a familiar thrumming starting as she looked up at him with a resigned and determined face. There was excitement as she gave into him, who hadn’t even had to work hard to persuade her. Now, he had another ace up his sleeve to use for later and he’d managed to help the little goat in his own way. This day was a very good one.

That was, until Ynna had refused to be at ease afterwards. Every sinner that’s had the displeasure of having to make a deal with him was some form of upset, despairing or angry afterwards and it was a perfectly understandable reaction. His reputation was well-deserved and only the truly desperate or foolish would accept his offer. He’d delighted in their torment but this wasn’t the case with Ynna. As they traversed back to the hotel, he observed her sullen appearance.

It angered him. No words were exchanged between them as they made their way back to the group, a stark contrast to only two hours ago when she pranced about the forest on their hike. He tried to chatter at her but she only replied with “I need to think for a bit.” before going off and walking faster away from him.

Her avoidance made him uncomfortable and his discomfort turned to anger. It was one thing for her to avoid him when he was intentionally striking fear into her cowardly heart, to be upset with him when he’d done something he knew was against her wishes. The deal, however, was a mutual choice. And she’d made her choices. 

Why should she subject him to her brooding company? He hadn’t forced her to take the deal, he’d even offered it for cheap. Why was he being forced to feel her annoyance and ire? 

When those eyes of hers looked at him in sadness and distrust, he’d wanted to tear them out of her skull. The nerve of her!

He thought he would find some reprieve from her but  she’d followed him to the kitchen as soon as they had gotten back. She’d made it perfectly clear to the both of them that his presence should have been something she detested at the moment. Why was she sticking around? He fully anticipated her to take back the deal as she clearly regretted it. He was almost willing to let it go just to appease her. 

The girl, however, didn’t. She simply sat down and stared, eyes in a daze to show that she was deep in thought.

It was irksome but he relented. Since she was being quiet, he wouldn’t throw her out. Turning to tonight’s meal, he prepared the deer carefully. It had been some time since he’d bothered to butcher the carcass like this, usually eating it raw up in his room. Summoning his shadows, he ordered them to drain its blood. 

His ears pricked as he heard the sound of scraping. Looking to the other occupant of the room, she was absently scraping one fingernail on the smooth wooden surface she lay on. The sound was accompanied by a small low sigh. The two sounds combined, starting little pleasant shivers from his ears down his back. Nothing so great as those he got when she was savoring his special treats, but pleasant still. 

His irritation with her ebbed as he listened to the little sounds she was making. Sometimes, she tapped her nail on the table, clacking like little static pops of a radio. Other times, she hummed with no tune, just to make a sound with her voice. There were also times where she growled, the sound small and low and no more frightening than a chihuahua. It was adorable. 

Instead of putting on music as he normally would, he worked to the tune she was making, finding strange comfort in the tiny sounds. His ears strained to hear her over the noises of his butchering, her scraping of the table against his chopping of the knife, her nasally breathing against the squelch of flesh. It was relaxing. 

The only detractor was her loud pathetic sighing. It irked him to hear her glumness knowing it was related to him. If she had to make a sound he’d rather it be laughter to his jokes, humming to his music or appreciation for his food. Not this moroseness!

A dark pit settled in his stomach, like hunger coated in anger and irritation. It weighed heavily in his chest, washing away the peace they were enjoying. He cut open the deer’s stomach, relishing as its guts spilled onto the counter. To sate the growing void, he ate the offal, the slightly warm flesh only mildly satisfying. Feeling her eyes on him, he made sure to eat particularly repugnantly to disgust her. He was being childish, true, but he felt like he needed to make a point. If she was going to be unhappy with him, it would be by his intention.

She continued watching his grotesque display, not once voicing a complaint or comment. Whatever reaction he had been hoping for, she did not deliver. Instead, another sad sigh left her lips and he had had enough. 

He passively told her to leave, not wanting to ruin the experience of cutting through flesh with her moping. A little twinge shot in his brain, thinking his comment was perhaps a tad too aggressive, and he quickly added a request for salt as a way to be a little more gentle, he supposed. As she made her way to him, still sad and quiet, she stayed beside him instead of leaving or returning to her seat. What was going on in that mind? 

“You meant it when you said you were my friend earlier, right?” Her sad little eyes looked at him, both thrilling and unpleasant.

She asked her question, still watching his hands work on the carcass, almost mesmerized by his work. Was that what was bothering her about this whole thing? She just wanted to reaffirm their friendship? Was it because he’d stooped low enough to try bartering with her for a favor that she doubted him? In hindsight, it was a callous thing to propose. The deal had just come naturally to him, a little scratching of backs between two people. He pondered her question and answered what he felt was the correct response.

“Of course I do.” The answer had been more honest than he expected. He was surprised at how true the words rang to him. Just this morning, he was thinking she was his victim but now, he was singing another tune. Why?

“You’re one of the few people in this ring that isn’t a completely lost cause in terms of company.” If the last half hour could be used as an example, even when she was irritating, there was still something of her company to be enjoyed. 

“While not as adventurous as my other acquaintances, you’re fun in your own way.” Indeed, she was too ordinary for his company but the shivers and bolts of feeling she brought about were the most fun he’d had in decades.

“And a lot more refined, in some aspects.” He thought of Niffty for example, while he got along well with the tiny woman…well, Ynna wouldn’t stab him. Though now that he thought about it…It would be intriguing to see the calm goat get violent. The thought sent shocks through him as he imagined her furious and unafraid.

“But you still think I’m stupid.” Her eyes looked at him with a deadpan expression, no longer sad but contemplating him and his answers. This expression on her face was much better, less irksome than her sadness.

“And you think I’m a psychopath. Who here has more questionable tastes in friends?” He teased her for it was true. Knowing the kind of man he was, she still made an effort to become friends with him, even let down her guard to show him equal affection as she did to the others. 

And maybe that was the answer. His victim was too kind and too genuine. While he still thought it was laughable, it didn’t stop him from appreciating those qualities of hers when directed at himself. This was…he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this development, having never attached any sentiments towards his victims before. He supposed that he should treat her with a bit more care then.

His honesty was rewarded with a happy Ynna, throwing puns at him, a challenge he delightedly responded to.

“You know, I’ve never had venison before. I’m kind of excited to see what it tastes like.” Oh if only she knew. He had to stop himself from smirking too widely at her.

“I seem to recall you taking a bite only a couple nights ago.” A spark lit within him at the memory they were sharing at the moment. Her flushed expression was delicious.

Caught in a good mood by her bantering, he thought to share some more tidbits of his life, the parts he knew she, who had some fascination with death, would be intrigued and disgusted to hear. Delight and mirth filled his mind as she politely declined to hear the rest of his story. Such a pity. He continued dinner preparations in a much more joyful mood. Now what should he add to tonight’s dish?

——

The rich taste of the stew danced on his tongue. Tender venison melded together with onions, carrots and garlic to create a rich and savory meal. From the corner of his eyes, Ynna seemed to think the same, pausing in her chatter with the others to truly immerse herself in her first bite of ‘venison’. She turned to him, smiling with her eyes, too busy with her mouthful to express her gratitude in words. 

A shiver rattled through him, static popping as she swallowed. His body felt warm, heated coals of desire burning in the pit of his guts. A bit of stew stuck to the corner of her mouth and he had to restrain himself from wiping it with his finger…from shoving it in her mouth, feeling the roughness of her tongue against the pads of his thumb. His observation had been correct, quantity also affected how much these feelings burned within him. He would make a note for next time. Perhaps, with smaller bits. This was beginning to take an inappropriate turn.

Adjusting his seating position to get more comfortable, he continued to savor his meal, eyes only straying towards Ynna’s direction occasionally. But what bliss he felt in those few glances.

“I think you’re attractive enough as is Sir Pent.” Ynna’s comment caught his attention. Pulling back from within himself, he focused on the current discussion. As soon as she had spoken, a crossed look came about her face, as if she had just thought of something. “Actually, I take that back. What do you want out of this, like, are you in love or just in it for the physical aspects?”

“Physical assspects?” Across Angel Dust and Ynna, the snake looked at them in confusion. It seemed the conversation was a little romantic counseling session for the snake. While uninteresting, he did enjoy the way the snake fidgeted in their light interrogation. 

“She means, do ya wanna fuck her, big guy?” Ever the crude one, Angel Dust pointed to the snake as if his spoon was a teacher’s pointer.

“Oh in that case then yes!” The snake met eyes with several of the women, all of whom looked bemused if not disapproving of his answer. Vaggie, the one most disapproving, raised a judgmental eyebrow that seemed to give the snake a hint that he’d said the wrong thing. How funny. “I-I mean no. I mean, I would like to get to know Miss Cherri on all levels.” That seemed to get the approval of everyone on the table. 

“In that case, I think you look great. Angel can probably tell you what Cherri Bomb likes and you can work on getting to know her from there.” Charlie piped in, plans going through her little head on how to help the snake man court his unfortunate love interest.

“You don’t think I look a tad old fashioned?”

“Every man looks fantastic in a well-tailored suit.” Ynna’s eyes scanned over the snake, giving two thumbs up to show her approval of his appearance. Her eyes turned to him, giving him a once over as well. Electricity followed where her eyes landed, ending with a zap when their eyes met. “Al probably knows a good tailor if you want a more fashionable cut.”

“I could recommend a few good ones but my favorite would be in Cannibal Town.” While he didn’t like being volunteered, at least Ynna had good taste.

Chapter Text

Alastor’s POV

“And that’s what I’ve been up to these days.” Sitting primly at a table in Rosie’s shop, Alastor recounted his new obsession of the last two weeks to his fellow Overlord. Two weeks he had relished the new feelings Ynna had unlocked within him, experimenting with different cuts and creative recipes to wow her palette. His painstaking efforts were rewarded with her sweet gratitude and the chaotic symphony of his body’s reactions. 

With a proud smile, he sipped his coffee, pleased.

“Ah! I can’t believe it! How did this happen and to you of all people Alastor? Must’ve been a shock to learn something new about yourself this late in the afterlife. Though better late than never.” Sitting across from him, Rosie was engrossed, absolutely loving his story thus far. Her elegant posture belied the absolute glee he could feel from the Overlord. Her cheeky grin stretched wide as if she had eaten something delicious, and gossip always was.

“Oh it was certainly a surprise. I can’t even begin to tell you how marvelous this discovery has been for me.” While running the hotel had been entertaining, it was still a painfully boring job to fix messes day in and day out. With his new venture, he felt energized and creative. There was always something to look forward to and whenever he felt particularly bored, he only needed to find Ynna and a zing would go through him. He could feel his cheeks stretch wider at the memory of just this morning.

“Well, try it.” Was his reminiscing plain to see on his face? The lady all but demanded that he put into words just how lovely a time he’d been having. Of course, that’s what he was here for.

“Haha. Then pardon me for being crass but seeing her consume a part of me felt electrifying, exhilarating, more pleasurable than anything I’ve ever experienced before. A new world to explore, every discovery a delight.” The thrill of it had not ebbed no matter how many days passed, how many times he’d watched her feed. He only needed to think of her and he already felt much lighter, much more alive. “I would definitely recommend it.”

“Oh Alastor. My goodness, I didn’t think you’d ever get to feel like that. Is that why you’re here? Need advice on how to woo your lady friend? You came to the right place, I always know how to get a girl.” Rosie spoke with a small blush in her face, already making plans to help with the preposterous situation she had gleaned from his story.

“Woo? I assure you that romance isn’t involved.” He raised an eyebrow at her, confusion following his friend’s offer. What was she on about? He was clearly expressing the joys of being eaten. 

“It’s not? Then are you really just here for a house call? I thought for sure you’d be biting at the bit to snag her off the market. Not many ladies out there wanting to eat their man and keep him alive too.” She gestured broadly, inviting him to think of the world of cretins and cannibals out there. The misguided warning felt unnecessary. While it was true that Ynna was unique in eliciting such a reaction from him, surely she wasn’t the only one.

Setting down his coffee mug, he took out a packaged lunch box from his portal space. Placing the box on the table, he uncovered the meal, steam rising from its perfectly preserved state. It was today’s breakfast, a hash of potatoes and meat from his forearm, chopped and pan fried to a crisp in bacon fat. He’d even gone as far as to add a fried egg on top.

“I’m actually here on a bit of an experiment. Since finding out how enjoyable the experience was, I’ve been recreating it again by feeding her. It’s been exhilarating but I’m starting to wonder if there are other avenues I could use.” Nudging the meal closer to her, he offered the carefully planned brunch.

“Are you asking me to try it? Alastor, darling, that’s a little forward, even for you.” Her toothy grin froze to one of surprise, a delicate hand going over her chest as if to keep her gasp in check.

“Yes. I’ve thought of trying out the same thing with other people but the mere idea of it disgusts me.” He couldn’t even imagine the others at the hotel partaking without revulsion and anger clouding his mind. “But I thought I might try with you as this is closer to your tastes.”

“If it’s working out with her, why would you need to find another outlet or could it be? Ah! No! Alastor!” Either his facial expressions were getting sloppy or Rosie knew him too well for she seemed to have read his mind. He was inclined to the latter explanation as he too could see through her. Her scandalized gasp and frown didn’t hide the grin that was threatening to split her face. She was enjoying the drama he was about to add.

“Yes, she’s unaware of what she’s been eating.” There was a little bit of guilt that accompanied his answer though there was also a touch of pride. Many times, he’d brushed off the little whispers telling him to treat the girl better and how devastated she would be to learn of what she was happily consuming. Because they were friends . But it was difficult to stop himself come meal time and he hadn’t been caught so far.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. You’ve certainly been up to something naughty. Does anyone know what you’ve been doing to the poor girl? Just me? Haha! So, are you branching out because she’s no longer enough for you? You can’t fool me, Alastor. You’ve always been a greedy one.” 

“No.” Ynna was entertaining him perfectly well. He was just curious. “I’m merely here to see where this goes. You know you’re the only one I can trust with this kind of request.” With a matter of fact tone, he once again pushed the meal to Rosie, hoping for the hellborn to try it.

“Well, I’m not one to turn down a free meal though this doesn’t change our relationship whatsoever.” Manifesting a fork, she smiled slyly at him. Her gloved hand delicately pierced meat and potatoes slowly, as if asking him if he was sure.

“Naturally. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” With a relaxed smile, he urged her once again. “Bon appétit, Madame.”

He observed the lady as she gave him a sort of bemused snort before digging in. As she brought a delicate bite to her mouth, he observed himself, awaiting the explosion of feelings that accompanied such a display. Should have accompanied it.

There were no sparks or explosions erupting in his head. In fact, the neutrality he felt dwindled closer to discomfort and then disgust the longer he watched her eat. Rosie was his closest friend, the only person who could understand his taste for power, violence and flesh. She was the only other person he could think of to offer to but even all his fondness for her couldn’t push away the bile that was coming up his throat.

“Alastor, you look like I scratched your favorite record. I take it the experiment was a failure?” Rosie smirked at him, as if already anticipating this would happen. 

“It looks to be the case. Pardon my brashness and thank you for indulging my little request.” He swallowed thickly against the disgust he felt. Taking a sip of coffee, he tried to regain his composure lest he do something uncivil like toppling the table in revulsion. It wasn’t Rosie’s fault he felt this way.

“You’re welcome, darling. For what it’s worth, you were delicious.” Her cheeky comment only made him grimace, much to her amusement. “Why did you need to find somewhere else to let off some steam? Are you afraid she’ll get mad? I’m sure if you tell her, she might even be flattered. I know plenty of cannibettes who would swoon if their man liked, no, loved being eaten.” It seemed he forgot to mention an important bit of information.

“She does not share…our tastes.” Which was really a problem. More and more, he could feel that little guilt he felt for his actions stacking with each friendly smile and gesture Ynna gave him. Her affection for her friends was surprising in its loveliness and he would hate to see her upset after finding out what he was doing. Those eyes that looked at him so sincerely would never be the same.

“She’s not even a cannibal! You’ve really dug yourself into a hole this time my friend.” So surprised by his admission, she slapped the table in an unlady-like manner which was uncharacteristic of her. He had the grace to blush when Rosie pointed out the situation he was in. Her sharp eyes picked it up and mercifully offered her help. “Well how about this, if consent is what you’re looking for, why not bring your little lady friend here. Maybe I can get her into the culture. You know how persuasive I can be.” 

Was Ynna’s consent what he was missing? It would assuage the tiny voice of his conscience if he knew he didn’t have to hide what her meals comprised of. On the other hand, the thrill of doing something so devious was a rush in and of itself.

He imagined her, willing and happy to oblige his requests, her eyes sincere in her wish to fulfill him. His breath caught in his chest, static breaking at the image. Oh that would be lovely. It would be a dream. It would be THE dream.

“Anything.” She had whispered. 

One single click reverberated in his skull, a revelation descending before him. 

What he wanted, what he craved, it was her offering to send him into these torrential feelings of her own volition. That she knew what she was eating, that she knew what she was thanking him for. That she knew and she happily did it for him. 

Was it so simple as that? No. Her preferences didn’t lean that way so this was in no way simple but he was certain this was it. Her gratitude without the guilt, her full fondness for his offerings. An explosion set to erupt in his mind, already stitching together the image of Ynna that he was looking for.

“Maybe I can get her to try some of the local dishes. I know a couple farmers and postmen that could do the job. She’ll be feeding on your hand in no time.” The fire in his belly vanished just then, the image of Ynna snacking on some poor wretch of a sinner quelling all desire that had been rising within him. How revolting that image was!

“Haha! Oh your face darling. I haven’t seen you so mad. You don’t like the idea of her eating anyone else? Haha. And you’re sure you aren’t holding a torch for the little lady?” He was glaring at her before she could finish speaking, a viscous anger clawing at his insides and wanting to rip that image she put in his head to shreds. “Clearly, that girl is special to you.”

“It’s all about feeding Rosie. I have no need for her affections.” He all but hissed, distaste (denial) coloring his speech, skin flushed in anger and annoyance (embarrassment) at her ridicule.

“Let me get this straight, Alastor. She’s the only one who can evoke that feeling you enjoy so much. You like her company enough to be her friend. You care about how she’ll feel if she ever found out about the things you’ve been doing to her AND you don’t like the idea of her trying other people.” With a winning smirk, she pushed the lunch box back to him.

“Sounds like you’re in love to me, darling.”

——

Ynna’s POV

The past two weeks were probably the best you ever had since death. Those little impulses no longer seemed to be a problem. Your intrusive thoughts remained just that, thoughts that never translated to action. It felt like you could breathe, finally able to look at yourself and feel like you weren’t a freak. The urge to burst into tears followed and you had to take a breath to steady yourself. You were usually very good at forgetting and not thinking about your problem. 

Ever since Alastor found out about it and made a deal with you, it was all you could think about. Every thought and action you made, you studied to make sure they were done with intention. And they were. The deal had worked and you only needed to worry about what Alastor wanted for his favor. Once it was done, you could truly start on your journey to redemption.

Walking with a pep to your step, you strolled through the streets of the city with Angel Dust who was walking Fat Nuggets on a leash.

“Geez Yn’s. You’re bouncin’ around like you’re abouta sing the Sound of Music.”

“I can’t help it. I just feel so great. My hair is shiny and my face is clear and today’s just been great so far.” 

“Must be great not having any problems.” Angel Dust huffed under his breath. Sensing your companion’s sour mood, you looked up at him with concern. Sour wasn’t the right word to use. The man looked pretty darned upset. His eyes squinted into a glare, looking passed you and at the pavement.

“It’s been great getting to strut around town with my favorite spider and piggy-wiggly.” You tried to lighten his mood, reminding him that part of the reason you were happy was because you could hang out with the usually busy and overworked porn star. It seemed to only make the face he was making worse and you immediately wanted to give him space. “Was I being too much?”

“It’s not that Yn’s. I just got to thinkin’. You seem like the best candidate for this redemption stuff. You’re nice and honest. You’re probably the sweetest little shit I know. I wouldn’t be surprised if Heaven opened up and took ya any day now.” His expression softened before becoming more aloof as if shutting off the feelings he was handling in the moment. “Guess, I’d just miss ya.”

A cold bucket of water rained over your happy mood. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that redemption meant…you wouldn’t see the others again. At least, not until they could get their own redemptions. 

Your heart constricted painfully and it felt hard to breathe. There was already a slim chance you could go to Heaven, cleanse all your sins and be freed from Hell. There was an even smaller chance that you would get to go with anyone from the crew. 

If you did go to Heaven…Angel, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie, Sir Pent, the Egg bois, Niffty, Al…you wouldn’t ever see them again. The thought broke your heart and shattered the perfect image of Heaven for you to pieces.

“Toots? You okay?” Long spindly arms held your shoulders, jostling you from what you recognized would have been a panic attack. Angel’s mismatched eyes looked at you concerned and it hammered into your skull the idea. You were with people who cared about you. And you would have to leave them all behind eventually.

“I’d miss you too, Angel.” It came out shaky but you covered it up with a hug. “But you’re talking like you haven’t been making progress. Didn’t Charlie just give us a pep talk this morning about what a good job we’re doing?”

“I still got a ways away from being clean, Yn’s.”

“And like Charlie said, you’ve already come a long way from where you were.”

“Having you losers around’s been makin it easier.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” You offered the spider a sad smile, now also understanding how much he relied on your support. It was just like how you relied on your friends to make living in Hell more tolerable. “Why’d you have to say something so sad?”

“I tend to get all sappy when you’re around.” His nose twitched in distaste before regaining his usual posture, strutting down the streets again. Following his lead, you decided not to think about the sad parts of redemption, it was your goal. For yourself. For Charlie.

Forget, forget, forget. You always seemed to just forget everything that made you sad, didn’t you?

Throwing your unhealthy thoughts aside, you focused on having a cute outing with Angel and Fat Nuggets. For not going outside of the hotel much, the pig was perfectly well-behaved on a leash. It walked without too many distractions and heeded Angel’s occasional warnings and commands.

“Is he just smart or did you teach him all that?” 

“Nuggs here is just that awesome. Ain’t that right, Nuggsy baby?” Being cooed at brought the demon pig’s attention to both of you, its beady little eyes staring cutely as it grunt an affirmative oink.

“ Awww .” 

“Speakin of skin. Looks like your face is done healin’, huh?”

“I know, right. It took way too long.” It had taken a surprising two weeks for the scratches in your face to fully heal. Even though you were a weak sinner, that was still too long. You wondered if it was because Alastor had been the one to make them but it didn’t seem to make sense since your arm had healed fairly quickly. It was a mystery but you were just glad they were gone. You made a note to be careful with facial injuries in the future if they took so long to regenerate.

Humming a random tune, you touched your cheeks again. Feeling the smooth skin was satisfying.

“Hey Ynna. Ya know ya can tell me anything, right?” From his height, he glanced down at you, still walking though a little slower.

“Yeah, of course. Why?” Curiously, you looked up at your companion, a bit of anxiety seeping in. Those words usually meant trouble.

“Your face. I know claw marks when I see ‘em.” Stopping his pace, he reached out a gloved hand to tilt your chin up to look at him. His eyes scanned across your now regenerated skin, remembering the gashes he had seen there. You froze at his scrutiny. “Who did it, toots? Was it Smiles? If the prick’s been botherin ya, we can tell Charlie to get him to back the fuck off.” Aggression lay beneath the concern in his words, making his anger known.

“Why do you think Al did it?” Not bothering to lie to the perceptive man, you instead asked the next best question. You took great care not to be obvious on the day it happened. No one should have noticed.

“There was that day ya looked like ya swallowed a lemon whenever he showed up. Not ta mention how much he’s been hangin around ya since then.” Okay, maybe not enough care then. 

“Yeahhhh. I did something that made him really mad, like, he could have killed me kind of mad.” There was no point in lying so you just shrugged and confirmed his suspicions. Immediately, he bristled, anger and indignation burning in his eyes. 

“You’re a guest at the hotel! That fucka shouldn’t be layin his hands on ya even if he was pissed!” Towering over you, he cursed, his anger just a little scary but all the more endearing for his concern for you. 

“It was a spur of the moment kinda thing and I did sorta deserve it.” With a gentle tone, you tried to calm the spider down. While he was right to be mad, the whole thing was your fault and the spider didn’t know that.

“Then the thing with your arm?” Two sets of hands rubbed comfortingly over both of your arms. He didn’t know which one got injured before but he still wanted to make sure you were okay.

“He apologized for that one.” Reaching for his arms, you gave them a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure your friend that you were alright. “Look, we made up. We’re actually friends now after all of that so it worked out in the end.”

“Yn’s, babe. Not saying ya got shitty tastes in friends after all ya got me, but seriously? Him? The guy’s bad news all around. He’s—“ Gently pulling away from your hold, he dramatically slapped his forehead, disbelief and mocking written on his face.

“A freaky demented psycho. I’m aware. I still like him though.” Without missing a beat, you described Alastor as you’d always seen him. Remembering the nightmare he looked that night, how could you not know how dangerous he was? 

“The guy’s a walking red flag!” Four arms flared out as if the grand gesture would get his point across any better. 

“Who cooks really yummy food and likes my jokes.” But you remained unphased by his exasperation. Instead, all you felt was a deep affection for this guy who was determined to be a good friend. Once again reaching out, you gathered his four hands into yours, gathering them to your heart.

 “I haven’t met that many people when I was alive and after that I liked as much as I like everyone at the hotel, Al included.” A confession like this would’ve had your throat constricted and inflamed with anxiety. But in the face of Angel’s genuine concern, it felt easier to talk. “Everyone’s got their quirks and shit they do and deal with and I honestly don’t mind any of that.” Looking into his wavering eyes, you continued.

“I only care about how you guys treat me and so far, you all have been the best people I could have asked fo-or.” Your voice cracked at the end, emotion finally getting the better of you. It was a blessing to have someone who cared about you like this. 

“Ah shit. Who’s saying all that sentimental shit now?” He sniffled once before he put his hand on your head in a not very rough pat, affection clear in the way he smiled at you.

“Hehe.” Blessed happiness. You felt thankful once again for his friendship. 

“Oink.” On the ground, Fat Nuggets snorted, looking for both of your attentions. His little pink face scrunched in concern while looking at Angel, to which both of you cooed once more.

The moment over, you started the walk again. There was a new lightness in the atmosphere despite having talked so deeply.

“So…do ya like the guy? I mean, I get the appeal, babe. He’s got that freak in the sheets vibe goin on for him. Not to mention he ain’t that bad to look at.” And of course, Angel would ask that. You almost smirked at him for how predictable he was except you actually had to think about your answer.

“Not like that, I think.” It was weird to think of Alastor in any romantic or intimate context. While he was handsome and charming, he was…too detached from everything? You felt that he didn’t care too much. But it was also this detachment that made your friendship with him so special. You had a particular fondness for the Radio Demon, who’s relationship with you, while not as easy going as with Angel, was still meaningful because it ware rare for the demon.

“What’dya mean, ya think? You’ve dated guys before. Shouldn’t you know if ya like a guy or not?” Oh Angel was really annoyed by your answer. He used two sets of arms to make a dismissive gesture. It was cute.

“Weren’t you just saying he was a red flag?” You decided to tease him by answering with a question which effectively made the spider pout.

“Flamin’ red. Now answer th—“

Honk. Honk.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

A flaming red stretch limo barreled down the street, smoothly hitting all unfortunate sinners in its way.

“Shit, we gotta go.” At Angel’s worried urging, you picked up the pace, almost running, hoping to find a shop or corner to turn and hide into. You knew better than to question whenever your friends said to go, especially Angel who didn’t scare quickly.

As if anticipating your move, the limo drove even faster until it reached you, stopping as the back window rolled down. 

“Angel Cakes!” An exaggerated saccharine voice called out. You could almost see the exact moment your friend’s face shut down to work mode. It could only mean that the caller was his boss, Valentino.

Dislike roiled in your stomach at the recognition but you kept a neutral if somewhat skeptical expression on your face as you two were forced to stop so Angel could acknowledge the demon.

“Valentino.”

“Nice to see you around town, Love Bug. I see you’re hanging around with some bi—. Oooh you’re cute.” The way he immediately switched from calling you names to being sweet was insulting. Stepping out of the vehicle, his leather shoes hit the pavement with a crunch as he stood to full height. The pimpishly-dressed man was taller than your friend, red eyes hidden behind heart-shaped sunglasses. With suave strides, his two steps easily closed the gap between you, catching the hand you had tried to avoid him with and pulling you closer. “Say Dolly, are you looking for a job?” You resisted the urge to clarify that you were not a sheep, his kissing of your hand making it easier as you cringed in rejection.

Turning to your friend, his slick smile never wavered despite the apparent discomfort you were showing. “Angel darling, why don’t you introduce us?” You tried to free your arm from his grasp but the man’s grip remained firm, freakish strength hidden by his lanky frame. 

“This is Ynna. Ynna, this is my boss, Valentino.” With a lot of reluctance, the spider made introductions. His eyes stayed on the hand gripping you, worry evident on his face as he spoke.

“Ynna.” You’d never heard your name sound so disgusting as when the moth purred it like that. “Such an adorable name. Nice to meet you, Guapita. So about that job, a little lamb like you could be a star with that adorable face.” His upper hands cupped your chin as he drew closer, so close you could scent the intoxicating smell of cigarette smoke and cologne wafting from him. It made your head spin.

“Ah. Nice to meet you too, Angel’s boss. No, I’m not looking for a job right now so I’ll decline.” With your most polite voice from a past life of customer service, you tried to keep your head on as you replied. Something about his smell was definitely not right. Alarm bells were ringing in your head just as quickly as each breath you took was turning them off. You turned away from him as much as you could to escape whatever fog was drifting into your mind. He was definitely doing something more than just inappropriately touching you.

“Hey Val, what’d ya stop by for? Were ya lookin for me?” Noticing your plight. Angel was by your side in an instant, trying to distract the pimp from his interest in you. 

“Hush Angel. Can’t you see I’m a little busy here?” The taller man hissed before crowding you once more. “Come on now, Bambina. I’ve got just the right spotlight for you.” Multiple hands felt up your back and sides, that smell invading your lungs just as much as its source was invading your space.

“No!” You tried with all your might to push against those creepy hands. Panic rose within you as they teasingly plucked at your shirt in their exploration, claws prickling your skin beneath the fabric.

“Val!” Angel grabbed those invading hands. Something in what he did must’ve triggered the man as you were roughly shoved to the side before he rounded on Angel, venomous drool seeping from his lips as his coat flared out, turning into wings.

“Angel, Angel, Angel. Are you fucking trying to tell me what to do? Did you forget, you’re my bitch! Shut the fuck up and let me do my business.”  The sweetness from his voice drained with each word, replaced by a repulsive hiss as he spat abuse at the cowering Angel Dust. 

“But Val, she’s not that typ’a girl. And—“ A fist flew at his face so fast that Angel couldn’t avoid it. With a gasp, you watched your tallest friend topple to the ground, eye already swelling from the impact.

“Oh baby, look at what you made me do.” The man went to pick up the fallen spider who dangled helplessly from his abuser’s grip. “Listen to me you sorry ass twink. Don’t you for a second think you can tell me what to do.” 

Anger filled you as you watched it unfold. This was bad. This was worse than you ever could have imagined your friend was going through. A fiery pit of hatred began to boil in your stomach, urging you to beat the shit out of the asshole.

“Just because you have a little clout from flashing that shitty hole of yours doesn’t mean you get to talk as if you actually mattered here, got that you sorry sack of shit?” Was this what Angel had to go through under his deal? Valentino pulled his free arm back, this time intending to slap the spider across the face.

You sprang to stop the abuse from happening, rage fueling your actions as you leapt forth. With claws extended, you reached out to pull the tall man away.

Snap!

“What the actual fuck!?” Holding onto the man’s forearm, you froze at the loud sound. Beneath your palm, you could feel the sharp edge poking under the blue exposed skin. With surprising strength, the bone snapped as you jerked it away from your friend, to the surprise of everyone, including you. 

You had no time to register what you had just done when an equally brutal hand wrapped around your neck, slamming you into the wall. Cement scraped painfully against your back as the man dragged you up until your feet were too far from the ground.

“Crazy little bitch. What the fuck did you do?” Anger still burning within you, you tried to kick at the man strangling you. Unfortunately, you were unmatched in arms as his extra uninjured limbs subdued your legs easily. “Trying to be a hero for little Angel? Think you’re all that?!” He kicked his knee into your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. Pain erupted from your stomach, the shockwaves traveling through your body with such intensity that you wanted to scream. 

“Aww did that hurt? Watch me do it again.” Another kick followed as he laughed. This time, you choked. The little air you had left to cough out had nowhere to go as he clenched his brutal hand tighter around your neck.

“Val stop it please!” Angel’s cries didn’t reach the bloodthirsty man’s ears, too engrossed in the beating he was giving and not actually giving a fuck about what the spider wanted.

“Oh you look so cute crying. That pretty face is gonna make us a lot of money.” The sleazy fucker grinned widely at you, back to his facade of calm. His claws traced the tears dripping down your face from the pain and lack of oxygen. “Come on baby. Cry more for daddy.”

Oh he was so disgusting! In a fit of enraged petulance, you bit his god-damned hand. If he was going to give you the chance, you were gonna hurt him where you could. You bit down in fevered relish, sharpened teeth piercing through leather gloves and drawing blood. You didn’t care if the guy could kill you, you just wanted to make him pay, make him bleed. Channeling all your pain and anger, you didn’t stop even as he tried to jerk away, keeping the meaty part of his palm firmly in your grasp with a stubbornness befitting of your form.

“Feral cunt!” The pressure on your neck tightened even more and you could feel your own blood start to rise up your throat as something burst. The muscles on your neck were screaming. He was going to kill you.

Alastor’s POV

Tea time with Rosie had been…productive so to speak. It had been pleasant all the way until the end. The lady was convinced that he was in love with Ynna and hadn’t let it go, much to his annoyance. He had to cut the meeting early, unwilling to stand her teasing much longer.

Instead of teleporting back to the hotel and being faced with the goat demon, he’d opted for a longer stroll around the city. It gave him time to think while also enjoying the terror his presence raised in the surrounding lowlifes. The cement sidewalks clopped rhythmically beneath his heels as he prowled along the streets.

He’d finally understood what Anything meant. It was Ynna offering to indulge his desires of her own volition. It meant wanting her dedication, her sincerity and her acceptance of his unconventional delights. But did that mean he wanted her love? 

Certainly, he could get those things if he secured her loyalty and devotion. She was deeply affectionate with her companions, the type who was always willing to help or support her friends even to her own dismay. If he nursed their current friendship, he would surely be able to ask her to eat him and receive a positive response in the future.

So what else could receiving her love entail? There was Affection, he supposed. But she already gave that freely in the ways she included him in discussions and started jokes just to entertain him. 

Intimacy then. In terms of trust, they already bonded quite well. He trusted her enough to share tidbits about his life and felt comfort in her presence. As for physical intimacy…

What could be more intimate than sharing his flesh with her? It was a privilege no one else enjoyed. He was almost certain that her bond with him was enough that he could ask her to share in his new hobby and she would reluctantly agree. She would do it in the name of friendship.

Friendship. She would do anything for her friends…anything. And she had a lot of those…friends. A faint whisper in his ears, shadows trying to guide him where he was too blind to see.

Snap.

The juicy sound of bone breaking cleanly caught his attention. Beside a limousine, Angel Dust was groveling on the floor, one of the Vees ragdolling him. The moth Overlord was screaming profanities and Ynna held the man’s broken arm. She was…

Ynna was a sight to behold. The goat was enraged to the point of releasing her form. Long sharp horns grew and curled from her head, teeth sharpened and poking out of her tight-lipped grimace. Two more eyes opened from where her brows usually lay. Her ears had elongated, looking more goat-like as they poked through her tousled hair. Surrounding the demoness was a faint red glow, a whisper of power that had laid dormant within the goat.

She looked magnificently bloodthirsty…but was immediately subdued.

With back-breaking impact, she was slammed against a wall and strangled by the Overlord she’d hurt. More profanities reached his ears but he was already buzzing with bloodthirst as he heard her strangled cry. 

It all happened quickly, the Vee’s gangly hands restraining her and raining abuse on her body as Angel Dust desperately begged for it to stop. Without waiting much longer, he shadowed over to where the commotion was happening, ready to rip the Overlord apart for daring to hurt one of his. 

Just as he was to step in, Ynna in her desperate stupidity, bit the hand of the sexual deviant.

Tears of anger and pain cascaded down her face, claws scratching the cement from where her hands were pinned. Blood poured from where her fangs ruthlessly pierced skin, down the corners of her mouth and something broke within him.

WHAT.THE.FUCK!?

Eldritch arms batted the vile shitstain of a demon away before he could think to move. He landed on his car, the impact making a sizable dent against the metal. Anger. Rage. Disgust. Black feelings swirled within him wanting to burst forth and wreak havoc on the filthy wretch, a sharp contrast to his clear mind. 

“Alastor!” “The Radio Demon!?” The men exclaimed at his attack. Turning to the most problematic scum, he grinned to his fullest malice. 

“I see someone had the audacity to lay their filthy hands on a guest of our hotel.”

“The girl was a guest? Why-why I didn’t know nor did I think you would care so much.” The moth spat out blood, rising up to his full height. “I didn’t think the great Alastor had gone all soft after all this time. Protecting little ladies doesn’t seem like you.”

“My mother said to always treat the fairer kind well. I’m sure you wouldn’t be familiar with that sentiment.” Several eldritch arms sprouted from the ground next to the offensive cretin. Power surged through him and into the air as he commanded them to attack. Dark tentacles aimed to pierce and swat the pest, wanting to see him bleed from more than just his injured hand.

“After all this time, you’d think you Vees would have enough of a brain between the three of you to know better than to pick fights you can’t win.” The pesky moth dodged nimbly despite his tall figure. From the folds of his suit, the man pulled out guns, aiming for his body. With a whisper to the shadows, tendrils of darkness engulfed the weapons rendering them useless. “Well it’s not like little scum like you would ever be able to control yourselves.”

Static screeched in horrific frequency, the filter on his voice morphing as he let more of his power loose. The surroundings grew darker as several shadows began to engulf the space in response to his bloodlust. The other Overlord was trying to say something as he dove into his vehicle for cover. He was uninterested in listening. He only wanted to send a message. 

“The next time you harm one of our guests needlessly, I’ll make sure to put an end to your show.” The limousine’s engines roared to life and sped away but not before he crushed the rear window with one last swing of a tentacle. Cowardly as ever, pathetic sniveling swine.

“Yn’s? Ynna!? Bitch wake up!” Retracting all his power back into his body, he turned to the screaming spider. Cradled on his lap, bruised and bloodied, Ynna lay motionless. The spider looked close to losing his mind, hands hovering over the unresponsive girl, unsure what to do.

With calm steps, he approached them, eyes focused on her the whole time. Her hair was disheveled, blood and tears marring her face. With two fingers, he gingerly felt for a pulse on her bruised neck and received a pained groan in response. She was alive, albeit just barely. A knot he hadn’t even known was there untangled within his chest. He didn’t even realize that he had been expecting the worst and was relieved to be wrong.

“How are you doing dear? That was stupid fighting an Overloard with just your power.” 

“…h..urt..s” The girl’s eyes didn’t even open as she responded, breathing labored as she choked on the blood pooling in her throat, her and that bastard’s. Irritation like never before grew within him.

“Thank fuck you’re okay, Yn’s…I’m so sorry I got you caught up in that.” Angel Dust cried as he spoke, arms maneuvering to try to lift her up. More irritation filled him at his useless sniveling. He moved to stop the spider, taking the injured girl from his grasp with quick yet careful movements. With a manifested handkerchief, he gently wiped the unsightly blood from her face. If he could have washed her mouth, he would have, unable to stand the image of her biting the moth even in defense of herself.

“Even with a lack of attack options, you should still be mindful about what goes in your mouth, Ynna.” A pained groan was all he got in response, her breathing slowing as tension left her body. Her fragile body sunk into his embrace, seeking comfort and protection. Even in this broken state, she looked adorable. There was an urge to lick away her tears and replace them with ones of his own making. 

“We should return to the hotel and get you cleaned up.” With one arm supporting her head and the other under her knees, he waited for Angel Dust to gather himself and his pig before calling the shadows to bring them back, materializing in the lobby of the hotel.

He was careful to make the travel quick and easy though all three of his passengers still looked queasy from the unfamiliar magic.

“Alastor? OH MY GOSH!” It must’ve made quite a sight, a spider with a black eye and Ynna curled up in his arms barely holding on to consciousness. The princess rushed to his side, eyes frantically scanning the most injured member of their party. “What happened?” She whispered in disbelief.

“We can talk specifics after getting Ynna cleaned up.” He had a feeling that waiting too long would end up with the girl dying as she waited to get treated. The others immediately took in the two injured guests, leaving him with an odd sense of unease as she was taken away. 

——

Ynna’s room was rather plain with its green walls and rather barren interior. There was the usual furniture every room had, a bed, desk, dresser and bookshelf. A few pictures of Ynna with everyone were pinned to a cork board by the desk, even a blurry one of himself and her that he was kind enough to allow from their hiking trip. On the desk was a small radio, the one she probably used to listen to his broadcast. There was an assortment of potted plants by the window.

He carried the unconscious girl further in, noting how reflective the room was of its owner. Simple with a focus of caring for others. Perhaps the only unexpected feature of the room was her bed. Several lush pillows and comfortable knitted blankets were neatly arranged on it like a small mountain against the headboard. He even spotted a couple of velvet pillows in the mix. It brought to mind a conversation from earlier, easing a bit of the tension he held in his smile.

Bringing the light body to the bed. Shadows pushed away the excess bedding, creating a little nest for him to place her on. He peeled back the throw, duvet and blanket to lay her down. Somewhere between being treated and being brought up to her room, Ynna had succumbed to a much needed recovery sleep. 

The damage had been worse than they’d thought. Broken ribs, bruising on her limbs, burning scratches on her back and a crushed windpipe. He could only think that it was by pure stubbornness alone that she’d managed to stay alive. Truly an adorably resilient goat.

Charlie stepped into the room and took a place on the opposite side of the bed, pale hands smoothing the blanket over Ynna’s form. “Thanks for stepping in to save them.” 

“It was fortunate that I was passing by, else, things may not have ended with just this.” Just. That Ynna was still alive and not sent to respawn was indeed fortunate…for the moth. The irritation had still not ebbed, whispers in his ears telling him to rip off the arms that Ynna had damaged on the moth, especially the one she had bitten. 

“I’ll have a talk with Valentino, Al.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to accompany you?”

“Yes. We can’t involve the hotel in a war between Overlords so let me handle it.” There was something admirable in Charlie’s dedication to preserving her hotel’s peace, though he himself found that same dedication an annoyance. His eyes narrowed to let Charlie know just that. The princess got the message but remained firm. 

“Suit yourself.” Reigning in his bloodthirst, he let the princess have her way only because she had primary decision-making in matters involving the hotel.

“ *phew* We should let Ynna rest.” It appeared the princess wasn’t fully convinced that he wouldn’t push to get his way. Rather than feel amusement at her relief, it only fanned the irritation that simmered in his gut. 

—--

Static buzzed about him as he lay in his bed. Whenever he closed his eyes, the image of Ynna, feral in rage, fighting tooth and nail against an Overlord, played beneath his eyelids, plaguing him in unresolved irritation. She truly was special, as Rosie had said, to be able to leave him this wired and unable to sleep not just once but twice now.

If only he hadn’t agreed with Charlie to stay put for the sake of the hotel. He tugged on his nightshirt, the scratching of the fabric giving him something to take out this frustration on. What even was the source of this frustration? That he wasn’t free to throttle the Vee as he pleased? That Ynna had been hurt right in front of him? Yes, certainly both were incredibly irritating things but what truly kept him up was having his mind replay the exact moment she sank her teeth into the man.

The scratch of static filled the air as the same revulsion and anger from earlier engulfed him. Not only was he subjected to the possibility of Ynna consuming another at his meeting with Rosie but he had also been witness to it in reality. No rationalizing that it was done in self-defense could quell the ever growing void in him. It felt like something had been stolen from him and he had no avenue to fix it. He wouldn’t even be able to feed her anything until she woke up from her coma. 

The sound of tearing caught his attention. His claws had punctured through his abused nightshirt, only adding to his irritation.

He needed to wait. Just until she woke up again. But who knew how long that would take given how weak she was. With a growl, he got up and put on his slippers. He could at least check her condition and estimate when she would wake. With that plan in mind, he shadowed to her bedside, eyes glowing in the darkness of her room.

Ynna lay unmoved from where they had left her hours ago. Her breathing, slow and shallow, looked almost imperceptible as he studied her. With her pale face and bruised neck, she looked no better than a corpse, unaware of how he was brimming with emotions because of her.

His eyes immediately went to her mouth, soft breaths puffing from slightly parted lips, the source of his frustration. It was envy, the name of that frustration. He envied the unworthy scoundrel who got to experience her aggression first hand. The last thing she had tasted was the blood of another demon and it angered him to no end. 

Static buzzed around him causing the lights to flicker on and off. A bedlam of clicking resounded in his mind, thoughts centered in irrational envy. He longed to change it. 

Eyes reddened in fury, she latched onto the hand in her mouth. Knowing it was the only damage she could deal to the Overlord, she stubbornly clung on, teeth aching to rend and tear through the man who abused her friend. Those teary eyes focused a determined gaze onto the other man, wanting to cause hurt, wanting to cause pain, wanting to rip muscle from bone and devour it just to spite him before he could kill her.

He didn’t want to remember it. 

He needed to change it.

In a fit of madness, he climbed onto her bed, straddling the sleeping body. Despite looking like a corpse, she was warm to the touch, her heat fueling the cacophonic haze he was currently under. With his eyes on those parted lips, he cut open his palm with a claw, not even registering the sting of it as he moved to open that blessed mouth.

Carefully he maneuvered her jaw, slotting his bleeding palm into the gap between her teeth. With just enough pressure not to bruise, he pushed her mouth closed over his bleeding appendage, the sting of her blunt teeth against the fresh cut sending lightning through his body. As his blood overflowed from her lips staining her pillow and neck, satisfaction coursed through him. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, heat rising to his face as he overrode the memory of her biting someone else with this image.

Shivers climbed from the small of his back to the tips of his ears, his breathing just as shaken as it passed. His eyes focused on every detail, carving this image into his mind until he was sure to see this whenever he closed them. It was his hand in her mouth, his presence looming over her. If her eyes had been open, it would be his image they reflected.

Drunk on the visage before him, he pushed her jaw even more. The sweet pain as her teeth dug in crumpled any illusions he might have had about finding another to indulge his twisted desire for how could this perfect explosion of feelings exist anywhere else? He felt Desire in all senses of the word and he relished it.

Letting go, he slumped down beside her, exhausted from the rollercoaster of feelings he had just gone through. He felt blissfully weak as he watched her lips be stained with his blood.

“Sounds like you’re in love to me, darling.”

A woman’s intuition was a frightful thing. 

The clicking in his head stopped as he came to accept that Rosie had been right. There was no one else that could make him feel this high and he would allow no else to ever feel this way from her. He moved closer to her until he could rest his head on her shoulder, relishing her warmth as the last vestiges of excitement left him. 

One breath, two. The faint scent of blood still lingered from her mouth. A lazy grin split his face. Another breath and then he let go.

With a wave of magic, he cleaned up the messes he’d made on her and himself until they looked pristine once more. Calm and sane once again, a wave of guilt engulfed him at what he’d done. This crossed even his own twisted moral boundaries. No matter. If she would be his, then he had an eternal afterlife to make it up to her. He would start once she woke up.

He stared into space as he lay next to her, head empty of all things, silent except for the small rhythmic breaths of his unaware victim beckoning him to sweet slumber. But he’d already crossed too many lines this evening. Frighteningly too many.

Belatedly, he remembered why he came here in the first place. Concentrating on his power, he let the energy wash over her, trying to feel her own. Her soul remained strong within the body though the power it emitted was weak, pulsing a faint green against his red. She wouldn’t wake soon with such weak energies to repair the damage she’d endured today.

That was what he thought, until he felt wisps of another energy mingling faintly with hers. It was darker and more powerful. 

It was his. 

Faint tendrils of his power emitted from her body and it bolstered her own until it was used up completely to fix the damage.

Come to think of it, when she’d broken the Vee’s arm, her energy had been red and strong enough to hurt a much more powerful demon than she. The current aura of her soul wouldn’t have been able to summon that much power, not without a significant sacrifice, so the only explanation would be that it was his that she used. His power…that she’d acquired from his feedings.

Now that was interesting.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

Your body felt stiff and your throat hurt as you regained consciousness. You remembered the burning sensation in your lungs as Valentino squeezed the life out of you before Alastor came to the rescue. Even now, you could still taste the metallic tang of blood in your mouth from trying to rip his hand to shreds, a dull ache in your jaw from your teeth being rattled. The pain was worth it though, as it distracted the Overlord from further harming Angel.

With the view of a familiar ceiling and the scratch of your knitted blankets, it became apparent that you were in your room. Your last memory was falling asleep as Alastor carried you back, the electric thrumming from his chest lulling you to unconsciousness with his steady rocking gait.

Sitting up was surprisingly not painful. You were sure you’d felt a couple of ribs break under Valentino’s onslaught, the shock of it causing you to bite down even harder on the shitty moth. Lifting up your shirt, black, green and brown splotches littered your abdomen, tender to the touch but they weren’t painful when you moved. With a gentle press, you traced your rib cage to check that everything was indeed healed.

Two knocks came from the door. 

“C— *cough cough* come in.” Putting your shirt back down, you tried to gently massage your throat. It hurt to talk, something like a crack threatening to rip open when you vocalized.

The door opened with a loud bang, revealing Alastor, much to your surprise. It was usually Charlie or Vaggie that came to check on you in the mornings. Though today was a special case as you just woke up from a coma, the Radio Demon was still the last person you expected to check on you. And it was so soon after you woke up. How could he have known you were awake?

“Ynna! It’s so good to see you up, my dear. How are your injuries?” The dapper man stepped into the room in a chipper mood, seemingly genuine in his excitement to see you. The quiet atmosphere from just seconds ago was completely overpowered by his presence at the door. Taking note of his exuberance, you made an ‘okay’ gesture with your hand as you tried to gauge just how painful it would be to speak.

“I—I’m okay.” It came out in a whisper, the loudest you could go without feeling pain. The ears atop the demon’s head twitched to face your general direction, trying to catch what little could be heard. Huh. You didn’t know they could move. 

“What was that, doll?”

You gestured for the man to come closer until he was at your bedside. With his long legs, he towered over you such that you had to uncomfortably crane your neck to make eye contact. You gestured again for him to come down to your level, the height difference still too far to properly carry your small voice. Even bending down like this, his posture remained impeccable with his legs straight and back slightly bent at his waist.

“I’m okay. Throat hurts too much to talk louder than this.” His red-furred ears twitched cutely as you whispered to him. There was an itch in your fingers to touch them. They looked like they would be soft. Or what if they were mostly fluff? Just tiny little triangles with thick gravity-defying fur. 

The temptation was taken away from you when Alastor stood back up to full height. Thankfully, he didn’t catch your staring, his eyes too busy scanning over you.

“Do you mind?” Raising his hand to your view, he asked for permission to check the state of your neck. The surprisingly attentive gesture was very unexpected from him. He usually just touched people without permission or told them what he was about to do. It was a little bewildering that he asked but you nodded your head in affirmative anyway. You tried not to flinch as cold knuckles gently brushed against your throat followed by the pads of his fingertips. Did he just retract his claws? 

“There’s definitely still some light bruising but much better than 3 days ago.” There was a small satisfied smile on his face making his sharp features look kind, a disturbing contrast from his usual mischievous expression. This nice and attentive Alastor was starting to have you question if the suffocation caused any brain damage. 

“You should have seen it then. One would’ve thought you’d gone the way that deer we had the other evening by how badly it swelled.” Ah. There was that mean grin. No brain damage then. He must’ve really been worried if he cared enough to be respectful, even if only for a short while. That was kinda sweet coming from him. Still though…

You gave him an unamused look, already used to his casual remarks about you killing that deer despite you telling him that you didn’t appreciate it. The man only smiled wider, enjoying your annoyance.

“How long have I been out?” 

“About 4 days.” That…actually wasn’t very long. Given the damage Valentino did, it should’ve taken at least a couple of weeks, if not a whole month, for you to wake up and recover. “Are you feeling up to come down for breakfast or should we bring in room service?”

At the mention of food, your stomach grumbled, a sound Alastor no doubt heard from how close he was to you. With a small chuckle at your own comedic timing, you nodded your head. “I’ll head down in a few minutes.”

“Alright. I’ll see you in a little bit then, my dear.” Alastor left the room just as quickly as he had come, sending your space back to its familiar comforting peace.

It was a little difficult to get out of bed, not just because it was blessedly warm and comfortable but because it was physically challenging. Someone arranged your many pillows into a low wall around your body and on your legs. Your numerous blankets were tucked around you as if individually placed there rather than being used as one thick sheet. You had to wonder who thought it was necessary to swaddle you in your beddings like this. It was impossible to move without knocking anything onto the floor. For a second, you were tempted to stay in the warm nest but your stomach howled to be fed.

After wrestling your way out of your sheets, you noticed a neatly arranged display of “Get Well Soon” cards on your desk, familiar doodles and handwriting decorating the paper exteriors. Warmth bloomed in your heart at your friends’ well wishes and care. When was the last time you’d received a gift from anyone but family? Was it a little after graduation?

With a quick rinse in the shower, you freshened up and changed clothes. A quick body check in front of the mirror confirmed your earlier observations; you’d somehow managed to heal the worst of your wounds in only a few days. You wondered if Charlie had a hand in it, maybe some healing ability from her angelic lineage that you didn’t know about. Maybe you’d ask her later.

Stepping out the door you were greeted by a surprise again. Alastor stood in the hallway, perking up as you left your room. Was he waiting for you? Before you could ask if he needed something, he saddled up to your side, elbow extended out for you to take.

“Let me escort you to the dining room, dear.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” It was strange to be offered an escort like this. It wasn’t a common occurrence during your time alive and since this was Alastor, you weren’t exactly sure how to take the offered arm. Do you loop your whole arm around it? Just your hand? You were still calculating the appropriate amount of contact when his hand took one of your own and secured it around the crook of his arm, stepping a little closer to make sure that he was actually supporting you.

“Shall we?” With a clack of his heel against the hallway tile, he started walking, almost dragging you along with those first steps but he quickly adjusted. Even though his legs were longer, he kept a comfortable stride that you could keep up with. On the occasion when your still stiff body had trouble walking, his arm remained steady to guide you, his expression patient even when you leaned into his side with the occasional stumble, the crack of his static the only sign that it may have made him uncomfortable.

He even played some of his radio music as you walked the slower pace to the dining room. It was incredibly sweet of him and so uncharacteristic. While he played the part of a gentleman, he wasn’t particularly chivalrous. You wondered what his reason for the gallant behavior was but refrained from asking. He looked too much in a good mood for you to spoil and you were enjoying the attention even if it was curious.

As you entered the dining room, everyone’s eyes turned to you. It looked like everyone came to breakfast today.

“ Ynna! ” With a chorus of happy cries, your friends made to get up and greet you. Niffty was the first to get you, climbing up your body like a roach until she could dangle from your shoulders, arms just a little too short to fully circle around you. “You’re alive!”

“Hey guys.” With a rough scratchy whisper, you greeted them. With Niffty’s weight around your shoulders, the tenderness of your torso became more apparent, pain starting to bloom in different areas of your body. You moved your arms to try to carry her but before you could hold the little goblin, she was lifted away. 

“Now now we must be careful. Ynna’s neck and throat are still in bad condition.” Like chastising a cat, Alastor held the tiny demon by her scruff before setting her down to the ground. The cheers died down immediately, concern coloring the faces of your friends.

“Are you okay? Shouldn’t you be resting some more?” Charlie approached, gentle hand hovering close to where she could now clearly see the yellow hues around your neck. 

“I’m fine. Wanted to see you guys anyway.” Her wide doe eyes crinkled slightly at your whispered answer, worry painting her face as her hand lightly held your shoulder.

“Well come sit. It’s a free-for-all today. Do you want cereal? Toast?” The princess guided you to your usual seat beside Angel. The spider had a slightly strained smile on his face as he looked at you, a bit of fear and a lot of guilt shining in those eyes that roamed over your body, focusing on your neck.

“Hey toots.” The greeting lacked the spunk he usually spoke with even as he tried to smile as normal. His face was healed, no traces black eyes or swollen cheeks to be seen though he looked tired and a little haunted as he regarded you. 

“Hey.” The distress on his face struck a chord in you, realizing that he must have been as worried about you as you were about him. Pulling the seated man into a hug, you patted gentle circles on his thin back. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” You whispered softly to him. Those spindly arms of his returned the hug loosely, too afraid of hurting you to actually touch you but it was alright. You squeezed him just a little tighter to let him know that.

“Thanks to you, toots. I’m glad you’re okay too.” He whispered back before gently pushing you away. “So what’ya want to eat? I’ll make it for ya.” The smile on his face was back, the reddening of his eyes hidden by the slight flush on his face as he stood up.

“Ooh Chef Angel Dust?”

“Don’t be expecting too much though. I can make, like, a poptart or something.” For all his swagger, he threw out his disclaimer quickly, not really one to actually cook. Still, it was nice that he offered, some of that strain in his gaze easing as you talked.

“Oatmeal?” Something warm and easy to swallow sounded heavenly for your aching throat.

“Ya got it, babe.” Winking as he left, you waved hi to everyone else as you sat down. Since they were too far away to hear your small voice, you could only mouth a greeting or nod back but it still seemed to make them happy.

A mug was carefully placed in front of you, hot coffee freshly poured from the carafe still in Alastor’s hand. “Cream or sugar?” The hum of his static was a bit loud.

“Cream, please.” You thanked the man, slowly digesting his extra thoughtful care of you this morning. It was almost too much coming from the Radio Demon. Almost. It was hard to deny that you felt touched by the attention.  

He sat down at the head of the table, his new official seat, with his own cup of coffee and a newspaper. Your eyes widened as you processed what was on the front page. Said newspaper’s headline was about a fire happening in the Vees station yesterday, a certain princess seen tearfully leaving the scene with a furious Valentino in front of the cameras.

“!”

Turning to Charlie, you waved your arms wanting to ask about the headline. However, trying to get Charlie’s attention over the chatter and clatter of breakfast proved difficult, your voice too soft to reach down the long table. Luckily, Alastor noticed your burning (hah!) question. The demon put down the newspaper watching you gesture to the front page and seeming to get the gist of what you were trying to ask. You tried mouthing the words too but he seemed unimpressed by your effort.

“This is going to be a problem for a while, isn’t it? Here. Try using this, darling.” Instead of answering or speaking for you, the demon snapped his fingers and summoned his microphone/staff, the apparatus landing softly on your lap. Curiously picking it up, the cool metal felt heavy and solid despite how easily Alastor usually swung it around. You sent him a questioning look to which he only encouraged you to speak.

“Charlie?” You whispered into the mic. Your voice, through the same filter Alastor used, carried across the room, halting everyone in surprise.

“See, we can hear you much better now.”

“Thanks.”

“Aww that’s so nice of you, Alastor. What is it, Ynna?” Charlie was thrilled to see the Radio Demon being so kind, only for her smiley face to freeze and blush with embarrassment as you pointed to the paper Alastor held up again.

“Please tell me that was intentional.” Given that she was crying in the photo, it probably wasn’t the case but she was also unscathed so that had to mean she got away with it. Grinning sheepishly (goatishly), a vindictive rush flowed through you. The idea of Charlie barging in there and wreaking havoc on Valentino was an exciting one for you. 

The princess groaned into her palms looking equal parts embarrassed and guilty. “That was an accident. And Angel even got in trouble for that.” Your amusement was cut short at the mention of Angel getting in trouble. While you were sure no Overlord could touch Charlie, the Princess of Hell, it was definitely a different situation for Angel, Valentino’s employee. 

You sighed in both worry and internal consternation. A heavy feeling gripped your chest as you thought about the man who attacked you. Maybe this was what it felt like to hate someone. Whatever negativity you’d held for anyone or anything in your (after)life paled in comparison to what you felt for Valentino after meeting him. Even just seeing his face on the paper had a black pit forming in your stomach wanting to bite his smug-looking ugly mug. For once, you were alright with the violent thoughts running through your head. Violence begets violence, after all. It was a good thing you made that deal.

“Oh hey. That made the papers?” A bowl of runny oatmeal was placed in front of you (it had a smiley face made of raisins) as Angel leaned over to scan the paper in Al’s hands. To your relief, the spider looked unbothered by what he saw on paper. 

“Ohhhh I’m still so sorry about all that Angel.” The princess looked teary as she spoke to the spider who looked at her softly, a little fond and awkward as he sat down.

“Like I said, it’s okay, Charlie. I get it. Thanks for going there to have my back.” 

“Oh.” The princess squeaked as she dabbed some stray tears from her eyes.

“What did I miss?” Turning your question to Angel, you hoped to get some backstory for what happened but the spider was distracted by the mic in your hands instead.

“Woah. That’s neat. Can I try?” His grubby little hands went for the mic and you had to stop him from grabbing the shiny new toy. Though you did understand. Hearing yourself talk with the radio voice was a pretty cool experience.

“Ask Al.”

“Hey Smiles, can I play with your music stick? Wanna see how loud it can get me.” You snorted at the terribly flirty line. If you weren’t between the two, he might have actually tried to invade the Radio Demon’s space, as per usual.

“No.” Said Radio Demon looked very unamused. With a snap of his fingers, the mic disappeared with a pop.

“Aww boooo.”

Alastor’s POV

He had been in the middle of stabbing a fork into fresh venison, hunted just this morning, when his shadow reported his goat’s waking. Finally. Saving the carcass for later, he speedily made his way to her room. 

Standing outside her door, he felt rather giddy at the thought of seeing her. He hadn’t set foot in her room nor seen so much as a hair of hers since he left her bed that eventful evening.

After that night, he had to put a personal restraint on himself against further intruding upon Ynna. There was a bit of apprehension on what bounds he would be tempted to cross if he continued to watch over her in her sleep. 

And what boundaries did he want to cross now that she occupied his attention? The revelation of where his desires pointed to and how potently they affected him were heavy things to consider. He had thought this to be a bit of fun that he could revel in for a little while, surely not forever and not with only one person. Now, he had to consider what his future would look like and how she fit into it.

How could he keep her by his side? He could trick her into selling him her soul. It would be the easiest way. But it would risk turning her into a bitter sad being like Husker. No, he much preferred her when she wasn’t moping. 

He tried to picture them as lovers but the image felt completely wrong. He had no desire to engage in the sappy romances most braindead denizens spoke so highly of. He hardly thought Ynna would appreciate any half-hearted attempts at flattery either. If he was to put up a facade, he would need to stick to the one that came naturally. Pretending to be a hopeless romantic was unideal and would invite only trouble, especially when there was still the risk of his prior activities becoming known by her to worry about. 

The best way would be to become the most valuable person in her life, so much so that she would stay beside him happily. No need to engage in superficial acts of courtship when he could just take advantage of their friendship.

That in mind, anticipation bubbled in him as his shadows reported back. He may have opened her door with a bit too much enthusiasm if the way she winced at his entrance was any indication. But he was too preoccupied by the buzzing in his chest at finally laying eyes on his little goat. Judging from her pained attempts at speaking, she wasn’t fully healed. 

She beckoned him closer, thinking that he wasn’t able to hear her tiny voice. Oh, he would have approached her regardless but something about being invited into her space was satisfying in its own way. Getting close enough that only a few inches separated their faces, he lent her his ear. 

His fingers clenched tightly behind his back to hold against the shivers that ran down his spine as her airy voice brushed against him. The faint traces of his blood still lingered on her stale breath, an observation that had him grinning in pride. He wondered to what extent she was able to heal with how much he had fed her. He wondered if he could convince her to take more.

As he moved away to properly study her condition, he noticed her unfocused gaze. What impulse could she have just held back on? He was almost sorry that he gave her control of it. What chaos would have ensued between them if she had acted on it?

With her permission, he touched the delicate skin of her neck. Yellow and brown splotches decorated the column of her throat in the faint shape of the pimp’s hand, bringing unwanted images in his mind that he chased away with the feeling of soft warm skin beneath his fingertips. Aside from her throat, all major damages were healed, leaving only bruises in their wake.

It was impressive how much power she was able to accumulate with just the few bits of flesh he’d fed her. He had been feeling a little guilty for the schadenfreude but now there was no need. His actions had spared her the slow and painful process of respawning. Satisfaction pooled in his gut at that fact, boosting the buzzing he felt in his chest.

When they talked about food, it was all he could do to not break out into an overzealous grin, already looking forward to feeding her again. Oh how he had missed it. He hadn’t prepared today but he could whip something up quickly. Maybe something sweet to celebrate her recovery. Maybe a little blood in jam or ketchup would go unnoticed. Nothing too crazy. Ideas ran through his mind, filling him with an enthusiasm that he hadn’t felt in days.

He almost couldn’t wait for her to emerge from her room. With a bit of impatience, he took her by the arm only to have to slow down once the weakness in her body became apparent. Such a pathetically weak form. At least he didn’t find the prolonged contact with her uncomfortable; it was even calming at times. 

The cheerful atmosphere when they arrived was to be expected. A somber cloud had clung to their little group over the last few days due to worry for their goat comrade. It was quite a show watching Charlie try to calm down both Niffty and Vaggie from extorting vengeance on their dear’s behalf all the while Angel Dust seethed and cowered in his corner. He even expected the little emotional moment between the spider and his goat. What he didn’t expect was Angel Dust to offer to prepare breakfast for her before he could. 

For a moment, his shadow wanted to scream and lunge at the spider. Just half a second. He was able to reign his disappointment and annoyance in before anyone could notice. He couldn’t even slip anything into her coffee as she opted to load her cup with copious amounts of cream. What a morning this was turning out to be.

Ynna’s POV

After breakfast, Alastor gave you his mic again saying that he trusted you not to lose or damage the thing before disappearing off to wherever he usually went to for work. 

“Wait, are you sure?” You were equal parts dreading and excited to be trusted with something so important to the man. He was doing you such a huge favor by letting you borrow his mic to talk to properly.

“Sure. Just don’t get too amped up, dear.” A giggle made its way out your lips when you realized what he’d just said. With a quick pat to your head and a hum to his step, he was gone. 

You might have squealed if doing so wouldn’t further damage your still sore vocal chords. You wanted to pump your fists in the air for having acquired the Radio Demon’s microphone. What an honor. 

With nothing to do around the hotel after Charlie specifically told you not to do any chores until you were done healing, you decided to just explore and hopefully find someone to hang out with. Picking a random direction, you skipped down the hallway feeling happy. Though you still felt weak and random pains would go through you, your mood wasn’t dampened in the slightest. 

The microphone’s weight rested comfortably in your hands, a bit of static feedback emitting from it as you walked. It was perfectly balanced and long enough that you…wanted to twirl the thing around. The impulsive thought reared its enticing head and you actually wanted to go through with it. Glancing to the left and right, up and down the hall, you guaranteed that there was no one.

Grabbing the end of the mic, you cautiously swung the staff in a circle. At the glorious swing of the pendulum-like motion, you grabbed the middle of the staff to twist it around like a baton. First slowly and then more sure as you got used to the weight. Ah, this was so much fun. You were giggling madly to yourself at the end of it, impulse happily satisfied.

No wonder Alastor always had it out. You felt fancy just having the thing leaning on your shoulder. You tried to picture the ways Alastor held it. Sometimes he leaned on it like a cane, a stern older gentleman kind of vibe emitting from him. You tried to imitate the pose, giggling as you twirled a non-existent mustache. So fancy.

“Hahaha.”

You tried to imitate the way he walked sometimes, arms behind his back, posture straight and eyes looking ahead half-lidded. You even curled your lips the same way he did, amused and looking for some misery to inflict upon an unsuspecting soul. Your steps walking down the hallway felt prowlier as you walked like the Radio Demon. It sent you into soundless gasping laughs that had you leaning on a window sill for support. It was a good thing Alastor couldn’t see you. 

“What the fuck? Ynna? Wait, is that Alastor’s mic?” Husk rounded the corner just in time to watch you flex your claws with a high-brow smirk like you’d seen Alastor do. Heat immediately rushed up your face at having been caught in your full goofiness but the twitching of Husk’s whiskers as he tried not to laugh at you gave you an idea.

Fixing a non-existent bow tie on your neck, you strode over to the baffled cat, stopping a respectable distance away. Bringing the mic closer to your face, you extended a hand, posture straight and slightly bent at the waist.

“It’s Ynnalastor, dear Husker. Pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure!” Static cracked with your filtered voice as you dropped one of Alastor’s signature greetings. You may have botched the accent but the wheezing laughter of the cat was worth the embarrassment you felt beneath your ‘wicked’ grin. “I say my good cat, it’s a fine day to find some entertainment around here. Ah, let’s put on some jazz while I not so silently judge your taste in music.”

“Holy shit, kid. That’s good. Haha. That was good.” Wiping a tear from his eye, the cat regarded you with a mildly exasperated expression, a few chuckles still trapped in his smile. “So he’s letting you keep the thing?”

“Yeah. Just until I can talk normally again.”

“You doin anything today, kid?”

“Not a thing. Can I hang out with you?” 

“Sure. Come on.” With an easy smile, the cat led you back to his bar. The swaying of his long tail was mildly distracting. You felt like a cat yourself, wanting to swat it. 

“Want anything to drink?” Sitting on the bar stool, you watched him move around the counter, wings fluttering as he walked. Standing behind the bar, the cat started preparing glasses.

“Something that won’t hurt my throat?” You weren’t sure if there would be one but weren’t going to complain if you were served something non-alcoholic.

“Got just the thing.” You watched the cat work. In fluid motions, he set some water to boil, set out some lemon wedges and a clean glass. Pouring the boiling water onto the glass, he let it sit as he fished out a jar of honey and a bottle of bourbon. With practiced movements, he disposed of the water having only wanted to heat the glass before adding bourbon, honey and a lemon wedge into the cup. From a high angle, he poured hot water into the mix, stopping just close to almost filling the glass. He mixed until the honey was dissolved into the amber liquid and garnished it with a cinnamon stick. “Viola.”

“Thanks, Husk.” Carefully placing the mic on the counter, you pulled the hot cocktail to you. Taking a whiff of the steam, the comforting smell of cinnamon and lemon were the first things you noticed before being surrounded by the vanilla sweet scent of bourbon. With a small sip so as not to burn yourself, the warm liquid soothed the burning in your throat just a bit. “Yummy.”

“Can’t believe you’re picking up day drinking.” The cat teased as he poured himself a drink, just the bourdon for him. 

“Only when I’m on vacation.” You sipped the drink slowly, savoring the warmth and sweetness it brought. “Ah. That feels good. My throat’s been killing me.” His dark eyes squinted at you.

“You coulda been killed, kid. You were practically half-dead when they brought you back. You’re lucky Alastor got there just in time.” The grumpy cat took a sip of his own drink. “But you did good, kid. Angel told us what happened. Taking on an Overlord? Gotta say, it was stupid but I’m impressed. Can’t say I wouldn't have done the same thing if I was there.” 

“If you were there, you coulda beaten the creep up some more. He was so gross.” You grimaced. The memory of those hands and that scent of his made you shiver in utter revulsion and spite. You didn’t think you’d ever hate anybody but Valentino…Valentino would probably be the first. “Glad I got to see Al send him running before I passed out.”

“Speaking of Alastor, seems you weren’t kidding when you said you were friends.” A white claw pointed to the innocently laying staff. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen him let other people hold that thing.”

“I’m surprised too but he’s been pretty nice since the hiking trip in general.” Since the incident, you felt comfortable around the demon. There was just something about the way he treated you that shifted, particularly after making the deal. At first, you chalked it up to your own attitude towards him, trusting him more and not feeling as much fear in his presence. But then, he also changed slightly. What was it…?

Consideration, that was the word. There were times where he showed you consideration when he used to only do as he pleased. Like this morning, asking for permission to touch your neck or when you were moping in the kitchen and he didn’t immediately throw you out even as you irritated him for at least half an hour before that. He sometimes even asked what you would like to eat when making dinner plans. They were small things that your other friends would have done for you but coming from Alastor, those small things mattered because they were rare.

And of things that mattered, you contemplated Husk. You’d heard him mention before that the Radio Demon owned his soul. You wondered…

“Hey Husk, are you okay with me being friends with Al? I know you two don’t have a good relationship because of your deal and all.” A soul shackled at the whims of someone with power and low morality. Even you who only owed Al one favor felt the weight of dread for whenever and whatever he would ask of you. What more for someone stuck in that cycle forever? “Did he…has he ever made you do something terrible?”

“My relationship with the guy is my problem, kid. I can’t tell ya who to be friends with.” There was a harshness to his tone, the years of resentment for the Radio Demon wearing on him. Taking another sip of his bourbon, he let out a loud sigh. “For the other stuff…it’s not like he’s told me to do things I haven’t done before. I was an Overlord once, you know?” He finished his drink and poured himself another immediately. Looks like the conversation was driving him to drink more or maybe that was just his alcoholism. Probably both, you thought sadly. “Just don’t like not having a choice in it.” 

“Listen, don’t worry about how I’m feeling. So long as he’s treating ya alright, I don’t see a problem. Just…watch yourself. He’s ‘nice’ to women but not that much nicer.”

“Yeah…” You remembered how terrified you were of the Radio Demon in the beginning. How he made a deal with you the moment he found an opening. The man was one who only looked out for himself, you reminded yourself. It was sad to think about but you had to temper your fondness for the dapper demon. Shouldn’t expect too much from him.

Alastor’s POV

“I’m cutting you off there. I know you’re a lightweight and you don’t need to be stumbling around when you’re still recovering.”

“Booo. Haha. Got any games we can play?”

Standing in the joint office with his business partners, he listened in on the conversation Husker and Ynna were having.

He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased that Ynna was clever enough to be cautious of him still or irritated by it. She certainly shouldn’t need to consider Husker’s opinion of their relationship.

By leaving his microphone with her, he could hear the sounds it picked up, including the conversations she was having. While he had offered her use of it purely because she seemed so pitiful in her inability to speak louder, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t take advantage of the perks that came with it.

When he focused, he could hear her as if she were standing next to him, whispering into his ears as she had this morning. The memory of her airy voice still sent shivers up his spine. A new delightful thing from his goat to add to the other fun things about her.

“I was thinking we could add a meditation room or maybe a pool. After what happened to Angel and Ynna, we should add something therapeutic, don’t you think?”

“What was that?” Returning his attention back to Charlie, she and Vaggie were suggesting improvements for the hotel. On the princess’s desk were some crudely drawn plans to expand the amenities for their facility. The one she was pointing to had stick figures of Angel Dust and Ynna dancing around a blue swirl of a swimming pool under a rainbow.

“A pool or a meditation room or maybe an exercise room. Just something for everyone to get stress out of their systems.” As she spoke, she pulled out more drawings from the pile, spreading the colorful mess all over her desk.

“That’s what the bar is for. Alcohol is always a good distraction from all of one’s problems.” 

“Getting shit-faced drunk isn’t the image the hotel is going for. We want sinners to let go of their vices, not cling to them when something traumatizing happens.” From beside Charlie, the moth looked at him with her usual annoyed stare. She probably saw through his attempt at not having to work on this project, much to his amusement.

“Vaggie’s right. If we have healthy recreational activities available, it will encourage better behavior!” Unfortunately, there was no dissuading Charlie. Not that he actually expected it given how enthusiastic the blonde was. 

“I, for one, think it’s a bad idea. First, our current staff won’t be able to handle taking charge of a pool responsibly. We would need to hire a lifeguard just to make sure no one drowns. Then there's the time it would take to construct the thing.” He pointed out some logistical issues he thought of. Each one of his points seemed to deflate the princess who thought through his answer. While the cogs were ticking in her mind, it would be the perfect time to suggest something else.

“If it’s about letting our current guests de-stress, then I suggest we throw a party.”

“A party?”

“Yes. A little music and alcohol of reasonable quantities would certainly be fun for everyone. Not to mention you could use the occasion as an advertisement for the hotel.”

“That actually sounds like a good idea.” Vaggie was actually pleased by something he suggested. He idly wondered if hellfire would start to freeze over any time soon.

“If we’re going to throw a party…” Charlie picked up a pen and paper, scribbling down ideas and making her checklists while Vaggie peered over her shoulder. 

“It’s going to suck having to wait until my throat heals. It’s gonna take forever.”

Ynna’s soft voice cut through his mind like a passing breeze. Seeing as Charlie was busily making plans and suggestions without needing his input, he tuned back into his microphone. It was more idle conversation between the two, nothing so interesting aside from just listening to the girl speak. 

The goat’s complaint gave him a frightening (tempting) idea but it would be risky. His static cracked a bit, just silent enough that only he noticed.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

“I’m beginning to think you actually missed me, Al.” You were once again arm in arm with the Radio Demon as he walked you back to your room after dinner. You tried to decline his offer since you were feeling alright to move but he had insisted. Now, it was just the two of you in the quiet hallway, listening to whatever cheerful tune he was playing.

“Hmmm. One does get accustomed to their routines.” It warmed your heart to hear that your absence was noticed, especially from the most unlikely of your friends to ever mention it. The demon strolled serenely down the hall, walking in step with you the whole time. The easy air about him was contagious, the soothing atmosphere beckoning sleep just around the corner.

Your relatively relaxed day ended with a dinner of cream of chicken soup and fresh baked bread. It was Charlie’s idea, keeping in mind that you were still injured so a light meal would be best. As everyone consumed the joint efforts of Alastor and Charlie (apparently, the Radio Demon didn’t bake), they also announced an event they wanted to host in a week’s time, a party!

“I’m so excited for the party. I haven’t been to one in years. And that was before I died.” Even with the mic still in your hand, your voice sounded softer, more tired as you got closer to your destination. “I heard it was your idea.”

“Oh I can’t take all the credit. Charlie was the one who wanted to do something to alleviate the stress you may be under after your unfortunate encounter with Hell’s scum.” 

“That’s really sweet of y’all.” As you stopped by your door, letting go of his arm, you handed back his mic feeling a little sad to see your new toy go. “Thanks.” 

“Only too happy to help, my dear. Actually, I wanted to give you something.” From the inner pocket of his coat, he produced a brown medicine bottle, no bigger than the palm of your hand. You accepted the bottle with curiosity. It was unlabeled but full of runny liquid. “I’ve concocted this little potion. Drinking this should help heal you the rest of the way. It will take overnight so you should drink it before going to sleep.”

“Really?” You were excited by the thought of getting better sooner. The sore throat kept reminding you of how vile Valentino was and the sooner you got better, the sooner you could forget. Not to mention Angel’s eyes kept roaming to your neck whenever you saw each other. It hurt to see him hurt whenever he saw the bruises.

“Thanks.” You immediately uncapped the bottle, taking a small sniff at the contents before downing the contents. It tasted like cough syrup, artificial cherry and sugars trying to mask the bitterness. It had a curious little bit of tang to it, like electricity sparking on your tongue. “Was this…magic?” 

“Yes…” There was a curious pause from your companion. Looking up at him, his static popped and his smile wobbled. 

“Something wrong, Al?” Whatever thoughts were running through his head stopped as he cleared his throat before speaking to you again. 

“I’m surprised to see you just go for it. Didn’t think to ask what was in that bottle first?” You froze when he asked that because his expression turned to a strange mix of equally uncomfortable, amused and cruel. His pupils contracted to little dots as his grin stretched in a strained manner. Based on his question, the cruelty you sensed was probably because you did something stupid. In hindsight, drinking an unlabeled bottle from Alastor was probably…stupid.

“I’m going to regret asking, aren’t I?” His mouth closed, regarding you seriously before answering an awkwardly hopeful “Maybe.”

You swallowed in trepidation, the aftertaste of artificial cherry following you the whole way. “What…was in it?”

“I noticed after your spat with the Vees, you healed a lot faster than you normally would. That kind of damage doesn’t just go away easily for someone with your weak demonic constitution.” Oh no. He had to explain. If he had to explain, it meant it was something bad. “When I checked on you a few days ago, you had a strange energy about you and it was actually speeding up your recovery. I figured out what it was after doing some inspection.”

“Okay…?” The suspense was killing you.

“It was blood. You may have ingested some of the Vees’ blood. The power in whatever you ingested boosted your own.” Oh no. Oh no. OHNOOHNOOHNO. You breathed heavily through your nose as you caught up with what he was implying. His red eyes stared directly into yours as he answered your unvoiced question. “I mixed some of my blood and magic into that cough syrup to boost its healing properties, for you.”

Frozen on the spot staring at nothing, you tried to process everything. Biting Valentino ended up being a good thing because it helped you heal from his beating? You can get stronger by drinking the blood of other demons? You raised your eyes up to meet Alastor’s again. He looked serious with a thin smile on his face, waiting for your reaction.

“You…gave me your blood to help me heal faster?” 

“Yes.” 

A mix of horror and disgust filled you as you looked between the bottle and the demon in front of you. 

“You couldn’t have told me before I chugged it?!” You meant to sound incredulous. It was a rhetorical question. Instead, your voice came out shrill and accusatory and louder than was appropriate for your throat at the moment. It hurt but you were too stupefied by what just happened to care.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to just down it in one go before I could even explain what it was. Didn’t I warn you before about being careful with what you put in your mouth?”

“That was when I bit an Overlord that almost killed me! *cough cough cough* ” You held your throat, pained from overstraining it. The metallic tang in your mouth signaled that you’d reopened whatever internal wound had yet to fully heal. In disgust, you tried to erase the taste from your mouth, swallowing whatever saliva you could to push it all back down. But even that hurt to do. 

Alastor reached behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you tried and failed to stop your throat from seizing. There was a faint click behind you. A firm hand guided you into your room and to the bathroom sink. Without needing to be prompted, you drank from the faucet, the cool water almost choking you as you greedily gulped it down. 

“That’s it, dear. Wash it all down. Don’t forget to breathe.” Beside you, Alastor gently cooed, his hands still working to soothe and calm you as you finally stopped coughing. Turning the faucet off and wiping your mouth with your sleeve, you turned to the demon only to find him still thin smiled and patiently waiting for you to recover from your outburst. His hands gently squeezed your shoulders, a sensation that was both comforting and discomfiting as you thought about the unholy medicine you just drank.

“How can you be so nonchalant about this? Didn’t you freak out when I ate your velvet last time?” His ears twitched atop his head, honing in on your even softer whisper. Even this volume scratched at your vocal chords in irritation but you pushed through, needing to understand what the hell this man was thinking in giving you a blood potion. 

“Oh that was more irritation at being eaten without permission. You have to understand, dear. The moment took me by surprise. It was a first for me and a massive invasion of my person.” His features morphed sharper as he recalled how he felt at the time. His power flared and static crackled for a moment, reminding you of the terror you felt during and the day after that event. 

“Sorry.” On reflex, you apologized. The simple word brought him back to a more calm state.

“Oh none of that, dear. We’ve already reconciled. Come.” His arm circled around your shoulders, providing support as he brought you to sit on your bed. “It’s a different situation when I decide it’s acceptable for you to partake and I’ve decided that I can spare a few drops of blood for your sake.”

“But why? I would’ve been fine in like…a week, probably.” A wince crinkled your face as you finished that sentence causing the man beside you to cluck his tongue.

“Look at the state of you, dear.” Those clawed hands brushed against your neck, his eyes narrowing in that way that meant he was irritated. His static still crackled softly in the background, harsh in their little screeches but further emphasizing the demon’s displeasure. “Bruised. Weak. In pain. The marks of that vermin are still on you. I thought you would appreciate a shortcut to getting better even if you found the solution a bit unsavory.”

“It’s because it was too savory that I’m bothered by it.” The thought of having your friend’s blood in your stomach made you feel nauseous. Did this count as an act of cannibalism? Did he offer it to you knowing that it could count against your redemption path? Probably. Not that he ever cared to see any of you get redeemed. You turned to look at him directly, into his sharp red eyes. “This is like…cannibalism, right? Dark magic? I’m honestly so grossed out. Why aren’t you?”

“I believe the answers lie in your own question, darling.” With a shrug of his shoulders, a mocking smile adorned his face as if questioning why you even bothered to ask. Now that the shock had dissipated some, annoyance and irritation took its place. The demon was right, of course. While giving you his blood was weird as fuck to do, this was Alastor. He was a demon with weird magic AND a cannibal AND a murderer. Shedding blood was easy for him. It was stupidly easy for him. 

But shedding his own blood? To do something nice? Of course you could see your creepy as fuck friend doing something incredibly horrific. That was par for the course with the Radio Demon. It was the hurting himself to be nice part that was sending you into a tizzy, confusion and irritation bubbling in your chest as you looked at his unapologetic face.

Breathe in. Out. 

You don’t remember ever seeing him harm himself or even get hurt, ever. He was just too powerful. So this was…an act of care? A sick twisted act of care that strangely fit the man. Or was it a way for him to hit two birds with one stone? To be nice but also knock you down from the ladder of Heavenly Ascension. It was probably both, knowing him and it piled onto your irritation a bit more.

“Are you really that bothered that you drank my blood?” The tall demon was honestly starting to look a bit concerned at your silence. Worried? It was a little hard to tell when he firmly kept a smile on his face. 

“I’m thinking about it. Wait for a bit.” Whatever he was feeling, you didn’t really care at the moment. You focused on making a good decision. What was a good decision here? Blow up at him? Yell and scream and retch in a corner just to spite him? No. As upset as you were for consuming something so ungodly, you knew better than to start a fight just because it would feel good in the moment. So what could you do? What was the end result you wanted?

He did something gross but…could you be okay with it? You really looked deep into your own feelings. Beneath all the bodily disgust and anger, a part of you recounted…his nightmarish visage, anxiety and terror, joy at his fondness for you, peaceful moments spent listening to him playing a tune. Two weeks of peace and his coming to save you from the brink of death. Would you give all that up because of a blood potion? No, that was stupid.

Looking into those red eyes, the chatterbox of a pushy man was actually waiting in silence. Patiently. The pop rocks crackling of his static was the only indication that he wasn’t as calm as he seemed.

In his own twisted way, he was showing he cared. And that was…amazing. Having people care about you was important, the most important thing to you after entering a miserable afterlife where everyone had been out to swindle, rape or kill you from day one.

You thought about what would have happened had you known what it was. It was a kind gesture from him so you would have reluctantly accepted it. You probably wouldn’t drink it…unless you really had to. There were too many dangers in Hell for you not to take advantage of a quick healing solution despite the bodily disgust you felt at the idea of ingesting blood.

“Listen, Alastor. Thanks for thinking of me. I appreciate that you care about my health. But this was extreme. You shouldn’t hurt yourself to help me, Alastor. I also feel really grossed out thinking about drinking someone’s blood. It was bad enough when I bit Valentino.” Your stomach threatened to heave when you thought about the coppery tang in your mouth this morning.  

“Of course, I’d care, darling. It’s not everyday I find someone worthy of being my friend. But I do understand where you are coming from so I apologize for offering you something you find so vile.” He looked almost sweet, so fucking sweet that you were starting to feel bad for getting angry. “I wanted to offer you some assistance. Being in pain doesn’t suit you, my dear.”  

And that was such a kicker, wasn’t it? In the last few weeks, you two had gotten closer but you never would’ve guessed that he cared this deeply for you. Never really thought that his friendship extended beyond jokes and polite company. What friend cuts themselves up for you to get better when they could have just waited a week to get the same results? Alastor, apparently. You added ‘crazy’ to the list of words used to describe him.

“But you didn’t give me a vial. It was a bottle. ”

“Hah! Good one.” You personally thought it really wasn’t but at least it got him to laugh for a bit. That thin smile grew a tad wider, less serious and more friendly. “Now, while I’m a strong proponent of smiling as a way to mask discomfort, I would much rather you be honest with me about how you’re feeling, Ynna. It’s one of your most charming traits, after all.” His response stunned you. You tried to put a stop to the conversation by joking but he hadn’t taken the out. Didn’t that mean he was actually sincerely apologizing? The show of serious consideration for your feelings made your heart pound and your already sore throat constrict. You were touched.

“Thanks for the apology and for not being offended that I called it gross, Alastor. I really do appreciate that you care. You had to hurt yourself for this and I can’t be mad when I think about that.” Getting a grip on yourself you approached him first, to show that you meant what you said. You handed the empty bottle back to him, placing it into his palm when he went to receive it. “What’s done is done. I’m uncomfortable thinking about it so I’d like to not think about it anymore and just focus on hopefully feeling better tomorrow. Is that alright? Or did you…want to keep talking about it?” 

A gloved palm slowly went to your head, first approaching eye-level before going up, giving you plenty of time to step back if it was unwelcome. The hand gently patted your head, something the elder people in your family used to do to show affection to the children. Your heart twinged at the warm touch.

“You’re far too kind, darling. You should just be focusing on yourself as the offended party.” You wanted to contradict him. That wasn’t how you treated people that mattered. “But I know that’s just how you are. Another charm point of yours. I have nothing further to say but if you ever feel the need to complain about this in the future…I’ll entertain the topic just once more.”

“Wow. That makes you sound like a jerk.” His pompous way of speaking got an exasperated smile out of you.

“Well I’m not as nice as you, dear.”

“Fine. Fine. You’re right.” With both hands, you gently removed his hand from your head, watching as it disappeared behind his back. “Good night, Alastor. And thanks for the potion. It’s a weird gift but thanks.”

“Sweet dreams, Ynna.” The man said with a small smile before going on his way.

Alastor’s POV

He appeared in his room as soon as Ynna’s door closed. Leaning against the nearest wall for support, he ran both clawed hands down his face, finally able to release all the tension he held from the confrontation. 

“Ha.”

“Haha.”

Electricity charged the room, sparks flying from him as he slumped against the wall. What a dizzying turn of events! 

He handed her the potion with the intention of letting her know what it was. See if she would give in to the temptation of a quick recovery even if it meant consuming blood. She didn’t even have to take it. He had only wanted to introduce the idea to her, let it sit in the back of her mind as a possibility. But the stupid woman went off script.

“She drank the whole bottle. Haha. Didn’t even hesitate.” Despite her words of wariness to Husker, she showed complete trust in him that just…did not make any sense. Why did she insist on leaving herself so vulnerable to him? Tracing a finger over the bottle’s rim, it was dry now but the way it had touched her lips still remained in his mind. How unguarded her eyes were as she drank his blood and magic.

A violent shiver raced down his back at the imagery. It was a good thing that he had been able to recover himself instead of getting lost in the way she licked her lips after draining the bottle. Else he would have missed his chance to let her know all the important details. 

He made a gamble and he won. Even after knowing what was in the medicine she drank, even after the visceral revulsion she displayed, his goat ultimately did not reject him.

The thrumming in his chest that had started the moment she’d leaned against him after coughing up a storm intensified as he recalled her reactions.

So many emotions flashed through her various expressions. Shock, disgust, dismay, uncertainty. And her eyes! Revulsion and wariness danced in their infernal depths as she regarded him after her shock. He’d gotten goosebumps as her pupils turned to vertical slits when they looked at him, watching for any twitch or sign that would sway her mind one way or the other. His breath caught at their intensity, a mix of anxiety and anticipation curling in his gut as he waited for her judgment to come down. 

Would she yell and scream at him for giving her something so unholy? Would she break off from him? Would she cry and break down? Had he made a misstep too early? Of course not. His goat has never disappointed him yet (only threw fun curveballs at him from time to time). In typical Ynna-fashion, she forgave him.

“You shouldn’t hurt yourself to help me, Alastor.” She said, showing that sincerity and care of hers though her eyes remained slitted and displeased. How fascinating to see the meek and soft woman look so predatory. 

When he thought that maybe she would shut him out again just as she had when they made that deal, she instead forgave him for tripping her delicate sensibilities. What a resilient mind his little demon had. Or maybe it was just pure stubbornness, unwilling to change her mind about having a harmful companion by her side.

He wanted to know what more she had to say. The flint and steel in her gaze created the most fascinating view. Even when they warmed, the stern determination in them did not falter while his own self-control was being swallowed by their depths. Oh the things this woman made him feel.

“You had to hurt yourself for this and I can’t be mad when I think about that.” 

How he’d wanted to reassure her that he relished it as he dug the knife into his palms, relished how his blood and power flowed obediently to his whims. How he imagined the little bottle sitting tauntingly at her bedside. How many times she would look at his gift and think about whether to use it or not. How she might have imagined the sickly sweet concoction touching her lips and running down her throat, just as he had. There was only desire and anticipation in every step he took.

He watched the moment it clicked in her mind just how depraved his actions could be, would continue to be,  if she remained within his circle. Yet the woman remained steadfast in her commitment to their relationship. She was too lovely. Too nice. Too willing to forgive. And now he knew he could push her to do more. 

Pushing himself off the wall, he made his way to his table. Stripping off his overcoat and shirt along the way, he neatly hung the clothes onto the chair back. The knife he’d used to stab himself for the potion glinted cleanly atop the table. Picking it up, he ran his finger over the sharp edge, contemplating. What part should he carve out to fill her belly? Belly…bacon, maybe?

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

You were able to sleep after brushing your teeth several times and gargling until you finished all your mouthwash. Like before, when the nausea and disgust got too much, you tried to force yourself to throw up but it didn’t work. By the end of it all, you were just tired enough to sleep, finding comfort in your little mountain of blankets and pillows.

Despite all the stress of last evening, you woke up bright and early and feeling superbly refreshed. The moment you realized this, you sprang out of bed and ran to the bathroom mirror. The smooth expanse of unblemished skin and your healed throat were evidence that drinking…that…worked. You were back to full health. And it only cost you a bit of your sanity.

“Well. That’s that, I guess.” With one slow exhale, you told yourself to let it go and actually felt those misgivings leave this time. It worked. It was done. No use crying over another mark against your redemption. And Alastor, well…you had one more person who sincerely cared about you. That had to be good.

After getting ready, you made your way to the kitchen. As usual, Alastor was already bustling about making food. Bacon and eggs were sizzling in multiple griddles. You paused at the door in thought. Seeing him did not bring up any negative emotions which bothered you …because no matter what you said about forgiving and letting go, being able to actually let go should have been harder. It was a blood potion! His blood! Yet here you were, completely over it and hungry for breakfast. You should’ve at least been a little nauseous after last night!

You were just a little disappointed with yourself for not being able to hold a grudge. 

“Good Morning, darling. Glad to see you looking much better today.” As if all the seriousness from last night hadn’t happened, Alastor greeted you with his usual sing-song manner, smile just a little sly as he saw the lack of bruising around your neck. He was wearing a ‘Kiss The Cook’ apron, with ‘Kiss’ roughly scrawled out with a thick red marker.

“Yeah. It worked. Thanks.” 

He returned your uncertain greeting with a flourish of a spatula and a monotone “Hmm.” that roughly translated to: ‘Of course, I was right.’ With the spatula in his hand and a content grin on his face, he managed to look both dorky and elegant as he flipped the eggs for an over easy cook. Your uncertainty vanished with his happy humming.

Grabbing a stack of plates and silverware, you left them at the end of the dining table for everyone to grab when they came in. Surprisingly, the first to arrive were Husk and Angel, both looking hungover and dead tired as they slumped in their seats.

“What the hell happened to you two?”

“Bad night at work. Thought we’d drink it off.” Angel’s upper hands rubbed at his eyes, likely feeling a migraine while his bottom ones supported him against the table. Husk wasn’t much better, using his wings to block out the light.

“Wanna sleep it off?” Quietly asking from beside Angel, you noted the little tufts and flattened areas in his fur, little remnants from whatever work he had last night. You bit your tongue against the sour feelings that arose when you thought of what he must’ve gone through, damning Valentino to deeper pits of Hell in your head. You should’ve bitten the shitface’s whole hand off. 

At least Husk was there to commiserate with the spider.

“I need grub.” Angel groaned out. Across from him, Husk lifted a finger to ask for food as well.

“You got it.” Marching back into the kitchen, you found some paper plates and sandwich wrappers.

“Hey, Al. I’m gonna go make some sandwiches for Angel and Husk. Just gonna grab what you made. Is that okay?” Your hand hovered over a stack of toast, waiting for the okay from the chef. 

“Go ahead, my dear. But what more’s gone wrong with that duo?” With a raised eyebrow, he plated the first batch of bacon and eggs, kindly placing them near where you started to assemble breakfast sandwiches.

“Hangover.” Stacking an egg and a couple slices of bacon on toast, it looked too sad for a hangover sandwich. You needed some condiments. Walking over to the refrigerator, you grabbed mayonnaise and some sliced cheese too, turning around just in time to see Alastor about to squirt a myterious bottle of something over your sandwiches. “Ah ah ah!” Like shooing a naughty cat, you stomped over to the man who wore a mischievous smile even though he got caught.

“I was just thinking to spice things up a bit. I heard it’s actually good after a night of heavy drinking.” The man was holding a bottle of hot sauce.

“If you mess with my sandwiches, you’re gonna be toast.” You protectively blocked the unfinished sandwiches from Alastor’s evil looking bottle with a hellfire label. He just laughed, threatening to put the sauce on your work with his superior height and armspan as you heroically tried to block him. Good thing you had his aversion to touch to your advantage, having Alastor unconsciously dodge your ‘attacks’ to his person.

“Tsk.” After a few seconds of this comical dance, Alastor finally gave up, looking mildly annoyed that he couldn’t cause chaos. When he stepped away, you finally completed your stacks of toast, egg, bacon, cheese and mayo with more bacon. 

The curious little bottle of hot sauce was left on the table, innocently inviting your curiosity with its bright label and shiny exterior. You gave into temptation. Putting a little dab of it on your finger, you taste-tested it to see how bad it could be. Maybe it was something Angel and Husk would actually like. At first it tasted bitter and gradually got hotter and hotter. It was so hot that your sinuses instantly cleared but wow. When Alastor wasn’t looking, you added a couple of drops in the sandwiches. He was right. It was good. In small amounts.

Wrapping up the meals in smiley-face printed wax paper, you also grabbed a couple of napkins before heading back to the dining room. You gave the sad-looking duo their sandwiches and told them to go to bed. They looked ready to pass out but gratefully groaned as they slugged away.

The rest of breakfast was only mildly interesting. Charlie practically threw you around and spun you after seeing you were healed. Niffty, with her freakish strength, actually tried to throw you when she saw Charlie doing it. Luckily, Vaggie and Sir Pent stopped her. Alastor sipped on his coffee chuckling as it all happened. The Egg Bois ate eggs…

After cleaning up, you sat in the lobby wondering what to do today. It was still the middle of the week so it wasn’t time to clean the rooms yet. As you lay there pondering, the trio of Vaggie, Charlie and Alastor came wandering in. They were talking about party preparations which sounded like something to do.

“Hey guys, did you need help with prepping for the party? I’m pretty free right now.”

“Vaggie and I are going out to get decorations and send out invites. You can come with us if you want.” Glancing between the two girls, you immediately wanted to decline. You didn’t want to intrude between them if it was a date-while-doing-chores kind of outing. 

“I’ll be heading out to recruit some entertainers for the event. You’re welcome to join me.” Now that sounded fun and wouldn’t involve you third-wheeling all day. 

“I’ll go with Al.”

Alastor’s POV

“Uhhh…is this a bar? A club?” Ynna looked at the flashing neon lights of the Stardust Lounge with wonder. Her eyes wandered from one clientele to another, observing the varying fashions of the club’s patrons. 

“A little club owned by a friend of mine.” The bouncer quaked as he saw exactly who was darkening the business’s door, a fact he always relished whenever he visited. Poor sap still hasn’t gotten used to him despite his long ongoing patronage of this establishment.

He gestured for the little lady to enter first, as a gentleman should, and watched her facial expressions as she was bombarded by the loud music within. The live band played upbeat music, the trumpet player taking charge of the stage. Several girls with short beaded dresses danced behind them, the feathers in their hair fluttering as they stepped to the beat.

With a little bit of focus, he could hear the quickening beating of Ynna’s heart as her eyes took in the sights, flashing lights illuminating the sparkles in her eyes. She was the picture of the same wonder and excitement he felt the first time he’d entered the scene in his adolescent years. Within a few moments, she gathered herself and turned those sparkling eyes to him, asking where to go from here.

He pointed to the bar, the more perceptive demons already clearing the space when they saw him. As they each took a seat, the bartender approached them. “Let Mimzy know that Alastor is here to see her, would you?”

The stoic barkeep only nodded before passing along his message to the backstage crew.

Ynna remained quiet, taking everything in with a small smile and wide eyes. It might have been the first time he’d ever seen her little ears twitching.

“Never been to a joint like this, doll?” The wide-eyed glance she spared him was answer enough but he did find amusement in the little blush that dusted her face as she answered.

“No. Not like this one, at least.” Her eyes glazed over, another impulsive thought running through her head before they snapped back to focus. With a little giggle, she pushed herself until the seat swirled on its stand, one little circle displaying her excitement. “This is so much more…” Her hands gestured, not able to grasp the right words to describe everything yet still perfectly conveying her amazement all the same.

“I like it.” She grinned at him as she said so. 

“Glad to see you enjoying yourself. So many new sinners lack good taste these days.” He watched her in curiosity. There was not an ounce of the hesitation and grief she held for him last night. There had been a moment when they first met this morning when she’d been a tad silent. He thought that she would finally renounce him but here she was, happily walking around town with him. Truly a little darling fool.

“Alastor! Sweetie! How ya been, doll face? Coming to visit little old me?” The familiar rich trill of his old friend called from the end of the bar behind Ynna. The plump woman walked with little steps, the beads on her dress swinging and sparkling under the lights. He stood to greet her, arms open already expecting the hug she would give him.

“There you are sweetheart. Been doing fine, I see?”

“Oh a little of the same, you know how it is. What about you? Heard you were shacking up in that dingy hotel the princess is running. How’s that workin out for ya?” Her rouged lips quirked snidely at the mention of the hotel, hands on her hips as she teased him for his ‘generous’ contributions to it.

“Oh that’s why we’re here actually.” Turning his friend’s attention to the goat she had conveniently ignored, he made introductions between the two women. “Allow me to introduce Ynna, a guest of the hotel and a new friend of mine. Ynna, may I introduce the charming and spectacular Mimzy.”

“Oh Alastor! Flattery will get you everywhere. Haha. Nice to meet you sweetheart.” The singer shook Ynna’s outstretched hand yet gave no chance for the girl to talk at all, bringing awkwardness to his companion’s smile. “Rare to see ol’ Alastor here bringing a fresh face around. Oh where are my manners? CARL! Get these two a drink, why don’t cha?!” With fluid steps, she took a seat at his other side, yelling at the barkeep to hurry up and serve them.

“So what business have you got for me?” He regarded her fondly, even in his presence, she moved them along to her rhythm. 

“The hotel is about to throw a little shindig and we’re here to invite you to headline the show.” With a flick of his wrist, an invitation card was produced and handed over. “There’ll be food and drinks and you can bring the music and the dancing. Sound like a good time?”

“Oh I don’t know Alastor, pulling off a big show on short notice isn’t my thing. Just kidding! Of course I’ll do it. You think I’ll pass up a chance to spotlight on stage? Besides, knowing you, you’ll throw one helluva party.”

“I knew I could count on you, ol’ girl.”

“Hey, watch it! Never discuss a lady’s age, didn’t your mother ever teach you that?” His brow twitched at the mention of his mother, something Ynna must’ve caught as she jumped in right away, stirring the conversation to her side. 

“Wow. You two must be really close. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Mimzy.” It was rather smoothly done, the quick glance she’d sent him being the only clue he had that distraction was her actual intention. How sweet of her, trying to keep things nice and peaceful. Unnecessary but sweet.

“Oh we go way back. Used to run in the same circles back when we were alive. He’s the only man I know who can pound whiskey like a sailor and still keep up with me on the dance floor.” Ynna’s eyes watched Mimzy in curiosity, looking genuinely interested in that bit of old history. Of course, she didn’t get much more than that.

“Speaking of. My number’s almost on. Watch a little bit, sweet cheeks. Take it as a little preview of the party.” The whirlwind of a woman left them just as quickly as she had arrived, blowing them kisses as she sashayed to the stage.

“Well, she really knows how to fill up a room.” He had only seen that expression on Ynna’s face a few times before, awkward wonder and slightly overwhelmed. She looked like that the first few days after she moved to the hotel, the staff and guests a new kind of pandemonium she had yet to experience at the time.

“Mimzy is quite a character, isn’t she? Used to be on the silver screen once upon a time.” If he remembered correctly, a few starlets and hopefuls had disappeared for it under mysterious circumstances. He took a sip of his drink, the bitter burn of whiskey delightful on his tongue.

They watched the performance in silence, admiring the pizzazz his friend added to the stage, confetti raining upon her as she moved. A dancing song came on, bodies moving to the dance floor to swing with the music. He heard a faint catch of breath. A glance at his companion showed that same sparkle in her eyes as when they planned their hiking excursion. 

He smiled wider into his glass of whiskey. It had been a fantastic idea to invite her to join him today. It seemed she was having even more fun than he was at one of his favorite haunts.

A rhythmic tapping caught his attention this time. Glancing down, he spied her feet doing small taps and sweeps. Her eyes remained glued to the dance floor, eyeing one couple in particular as they glided across the floor in a foxtrot. Was she trying to mimic their steps? Perhaps the little darling wanted to dance. Well, he would certainly be more than happy to accommodate her, already feeling an itch to move along with the music himself.

“Wanna dance, dear?” He stood up, hand out to invite the restless her into the crowd. Instead of the enthusiastic affirmative he was expecting, she instead regarded him with confusion, a little of that sparkle dimming as their eyes met.

“Huh? You’re inviting me to dance?”

“Yes, I believe I just did.” A prickle of discontent sparked within him when he thought she would decline. Maybe he was incorrect and she didn’t feel quite as comfortable with him anymore. The thought chilled his enthusiasm a bit, already thinking of ways to win back any affection he’d lost from her. However, her small hand lightly touched his palm, not quite taking his offer just yet.

“I don’t know this dance. I think I got it though. Hope you don’t mind teaching me.” Ah. She was giving him the chance to rescind in case he found her inexperience inconvenient. How delightfully thoughtful of her.

“Not at all. Come on. Who better to show you how it’s done than one of the best?” Taking her hand in his, he guided her to the dance floor. With just a small flare of his power, he opened a big enough space that they could dance freely without bumping into other bodies. Guiding her smaller form, he placed her hands on his shoulders, his at her back and drew her closer. 

There was tension in her posture, a mix of nervousness and caution against overly touching him. Her mindfulness was cute but he wouldn’t have offered it if he had minded the contact in the first place. He pushed her into his chest, her eyes snapping up to his, checking how he felt.

“Follow my lead, darling.” It seemed she understood that she had nothing to worry about. Stepping away to a more reasonable distance, she focused on his footwork, allowing him to guide her.

She must’ve had some experience in dancing or perhaps she was rhythmically talented as she matched his slowed steps quickly. In just a few moves, she was dancing like she’d known the song all her life. Her eyes sparkled proudly as she kept pace with him, their glimmer soft and pleased. So naturally, he went faster. 

“Ah! Al!”

“Keep up, darling. I know you can do it.” A small flush covered her cheeks, determination evident in her eyes. Hiccuping, she concentrated, unwilling to just give up as he upped the tempo. And for a bit, she was able to keep up with him, her body moving in sync to the music, following his queues well, although a little clumsily.

Knowing that she had met his challenge, the cheeky woman had the audacity to grin at him. As if her small achievement (already impressive by normal standards) was something worthy of his praise. Excitement thrummed in his chest as she confidently skipped and stepped to the music. Since she seemed so comfortable with the movement, he might as well take this to an advanced level. With his hand between her shoulder blades, he practically carried her across the dance floor, her feet dragging when she couldn’t keep up.

Despite making the dance difficult (impossible) for her, she was laughing through it, giving in to whatever dance move he guided them through next to the best of her minuscule ability. To his delight, her claws had come out, their fine points prickling against his shoulder in an unconscious attempt to stay with him as he spun them around the floor. Little waves and sparks resonated through his body to the beat of the drummer and her laughter, a feeling so different from desire yet just as drunkenly potent as it rode the highs and lows of the trumpets sound.

“You’re hopeless at this, dear.”

“You’re not really teaching me anymore, Al.” The little goat was panting, tired from the exertion, with a big grin stretching her flushed face. Beads of sweat were starting to drip down her face. Whispers in his belly told him to lick them but he had more class than that at the moment. For her sake, he mercifully slowed the tempo, leading them back to the basic steps of earlier to give her some reprieve.

“There’s no shame in not being able to keep up.” He spun her suddenly causing her to lose her footing, just as he intended. With a shriek, she fell, claws digging into his arms to avoid crashing onto the floor. As she stumbled down, his quick hand grasped her waist to catch her into a dip, bringing her low to the ground and up again with perfect control. She giggled into his face as she regained her balance.

“Give me a few weeks of this and I’ll get way better.” The thrumming in his chest buzzed a little louder. He quite liked the idea of dancing with her again, even if it was really just him dragging her across the dance floor. Both of her arms hung around his neck, eyes dizzy with vertigo as she spoke to him. The distance between them had lessened but he found himself not minding the invasion of his space. 

The music reached its final notes signaling the end of this dance number. He could feel the tiny shakes from his dance partner as the exertion caught up with her. She wouldn’t be able to do another dance with him at this rate. But she seemed eager enough to try should he insist. With an arm around her waist, he was about to ask for another.

“Mind if I cut in?” Mimzy, having finished her performance, stepped up to them in the small pause as Ynna tried to regain herself. The goat’s small hands loosened their grip on him before pulling away completely. There was no hesitation at all as she handed him over to the other woman, an observation that left him just a little vexed for reasons he wasn’t quite clear on.

“Not at all. I’ll go grab a drink.” Pushing aside what vaguely felt like disappointment as she left, he turned to his friend, falling into familiar steps and rhythms with the demoness.

“So why’re you hanging out with the little sweetie pie over there? She’s not exactly your type.” A sneer mixed with the cheeky smile of the haughty woman.

“I don’t exactly have a type.” 

“Aww you don’t you mean that. You don’t like goody types. They’re too boring for your taste, Alastor.” 

“While you’re not wrong, she is surprisingly entertaining.” 

A panicked face and a broken deer’s neck flashed through his mind. Evenings spent in the sound of music and clattering dishes. Neither of those things sounded boring to him.

Ynna’s POV

You watched in rapt attention as Alastor and Mimzy tore through the dance floor. Their dance was chaotic, arms and legs swinging to the ever louder beat and yet they made it look easy and elegant. It was so impressive that you could only sit there grinning, feet tapping along to the music.

In your mind, the scene was changing. What would it have been like when these two were alive? Surely they were just as dazzling back then as they were now. The music came to a crescendo as Alastor and Mimzy kept their breathtaking pace, your heartbeat speeding along with it. Why wasn’t the room on fire yet? 

And Alastor. The man was completely different from how you knew him. Gone was the terrifying, mischievous Radio Demon. The man on the dance floor was sauve, chaotic, utterly free and even more graceful. He was in his element in a way that you had never imagined he could be, limbs and body swaying in the most handsome ways. As the pair moved together under the flashing lights, it painted one of the most heartracingly beautiful scenes you’d ever seen. 

Just as the song came to an end, the windows at front the entrance were smashed open. The music stopped, everyone stopped. All heads previously dizzy with the vibe turned to where the commotion was happening. Several shark demons in suits walked in, guns and clubs in their hands, looking threatening.

“Where’s Mimzy!?” The leader shouted and immediately all patrons scrambled, making a clear path to Alastor and Mimzy who were centered on the dance floor. In the chaos of people leaving, you stood up, moving closer to the stage behind the two, trying to get a feel for what the appropriate response would be.

There was a tingling in the back of your head, the same danger bells that kept you alive when you first got to Hell ringing non-stop. You tried not to focus too much on them though, after all, the most dangerous being in the room wasn’t those thugs. Said dangerous being was giving Mimzy a fondly exasperated look as the woman was sheepishly saying something.

With a nonchalant wave, he faced the intruders, paying no mind to the unfortunate patrons who had yet to get out. Some were even smashing the windows to create escape routes. And with good reason as the Radio Demon grew in size, his horrifying shape filling the empty dance hall.

“Yeahhhh! Go get’em, Alastor!” Walking over to Mimzy, the woman cheered as tentacles grew out from Al’s back, eldritch magic glowing an eerie green about him. “Oh there you are, sweetie. Looks like you didn’t get swept up in the crowd.”

“Who are they?”

“Oh just some loan sharks I pissed off. No biggie.” She had the confidence of a woman who knew someone would bail her out from her problems, giggling and punching the air as tentacles skewered the poor thugs. You watched in horrified awe beside her as the gigantic Radio Demon pierced and ate the screaming shark demons…loan sharks that were actual sharks. You couldn’t help but snort at that. Oh, that was terrible.

Alastor wasn’t being very clean about it either. Dismembered limbs were flying everywhere and you knew he could just eat the whole person so why make a mess out of it too? Because he was a sadist. With an unimpressed stare at this impressively gruesome display, you tapped the shoulder of the woman beside you. From the corner of your eye, a stray limb was about to smack you two.

“We better move.” With a gentle pull, you got the woman out of the way. She seemed unhappy with being touched, a sneer peeking from dark lips, until the wet squelch of the disembodied arm hit right where she had been standing before you moved her.

“Good idea.” You two scurried until you reached the safety of the second floor, looking over the balcony above the stage at Alastor’s carnage. You felt just a little sorry for the unfortunate men, choosing today of all days to come collect. They did deserve a little bit of it though. There was no need to smash the place up. “That’ll show Valentino’s stupid lackeys not to mess with my lounge.”

“They’re Valentino’s?” The mention of the mothman raised hackles within you, the image of an exhausted Angel Dust from this morning rekindling the flame of distaste you had for his boss. Suddenly, all your empathy for the sharks vanished.

After only a few minutes, Al had managed to ‘clean up’ the thugs that invaded the club. Chairs and tables were toppled over, spilled drinks and broken glass littered the dance floor. All patrons and staff had (maybe) gotten out and away from the danger, leaving only you three in the aftermath. Or maybe not just you three.

One of the sharks managed to get around Al, climbing up the long swathes of curtains that decorated the stage. His claws crunched against the velvet drapery as he climbed his way up to the balcony. You crouched down to meet his gaze as he dangled against the edge in front of you. His beady eyes glared at you then at Mimzy behind you.

“I’ll get ya, you little bitch!” A thick arm swung from below, claws narrowly missing you as they dug into the ground next to your feet. You immediately stomped on the intruding hand causing the man to scream profanities again. He even swore like Valentino, with the same accent and everything. He focused on you now, glaring those black button-like eyes at you promising pain if he ever got his hand on you. You’d seen worse. Red was a much scarier color than those shiny black beads.

You wanted to poke them.

“Hey Al, you missed one!” And you did. 

Alastor’s POV

It felt good to let loose after months of holding back. Like being able to get a good stretch in after being seated for a long time. His shadows laughed within him at the poor souls he’d just consumed. They’ll have such a difficult time respawning, building their mangled bodies from scratch bit by painful bit. He could imagine the agony. It would be delicious. 

This day turned out to be more entertaining than he had anticipated. The dance hall was always a pleasure to be in and Ynna’s company had been riveting. Speaking of. Where did his goat go? Had she gotten caught up in the panicking mob? Displeasure spiked through him at the thought that the woman might have been hurt in the scuffle once again, followed by delight that he could maybe offer a bit of himself should she be injured. For healing purposes. 

Whatever her reaction to that would be, he would care for and soothe her. That seemed to be the way to push past her moral barriers and let her guard down. He was about to retract his form when Ynna’s voice echoed through the empty dance hall.

“Hey Al, you missed one!” His head turned 180 degrees just in time to catch the split second changes in Ynna’s focus, another intrusive thought passing her mind only… she actually went ahead with it. Chose to go ahead and do it. With unceremonious motions, she poked the shark’s eyes causing the man to fall from where he’d clung at her feet. Those focused eyes watched as one of his tentacles snapped out and caught the fiend.

Had she just…delivered a sinner to his death to him, knowing he would devour the pathetic lug?

With deliberately slowed actions, he brought the sinner to him, the screams of the damned like music to his ears. His eyes, however, were focused on his goat, just watching the man she’d condemned be slowly brought to his demise. Anticipation coiled in his gut. For what though, he couldn’t say. 

Her eyes remained steady, cold, as he chucked the unfortunate shark into his mouth, the crunch of his flesh not nearly as sweet as having Ynna’s gaze on him. He licked his lips, drool dripping to the floor with a sadistic drag of tongue against yellowed fangs. It was a depraved display yet…when those unflinching eyes met his, she only nodded. And that was it. A small motion, almost imperceptible from where he stood but it lit his brain on fire.

---

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

In a spectacular display of power, Alastor cleaned up the battered Stardust Lounge. Legions of shadowy figures swarmed the place and put it back together in a matter of minutes as their master transformed back to his more refined gentlemanly form. Static buzzed around him, electrifying the air. A manic grin firmly split across his face.

You watched in equal parts disturbed and awed and mildly exasperated at his sadistic glee.

With Mimzy’s gratitude and reassurance that she would definitely come to the party, you and Alastor left the club. Even with all that had happened, it was only early afternoon, the pentagram above shining its bright red glow over the city streets. The man immediately made a left turn, heels clacking along the pavement. You quickly tried to catch up to him and his long legs.

Walking along the blood (and other more questionable things) spattered sidewalks, your companion hummed a happy tune, a harsh static screech breaking his vocalization every now and then. It sounded like he was glitching but the man continued along as if it was perfectly normal.

He was being exceedingly happy after his recent murder spree. The aura of his power crashed against you in waves that had sweat running down your back with the urge to run away. It had been a while since he last made you feel this unease with just his presence.

Every once in a while, he caught you watching him warily. His features sharpened whenever your eyes met before morphing back to something more nonchalant, eyes glowing beneath half-closed lids. He was too happy and you were starting to get stressed.

“You okay, Alastor?”

“Just peachy, darling. I haven’t had a chance to let loose like that in ages. Hmm!” Stretching his arms above his head, the man rolled his head in a full dramatic unnatural circle, sighing in relief when it cracked a crunchy sound that had you squinting. Gross.

“Are you talking about the dancing or the killing spree?”

“Both. Music and murder are my second loves, you know? And I just happen to be very talented at both. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?” With an easy slide, his hand took hold of yours, spinning you around in a loose spiral. That graceful arm guided you a few steps forward before letting you two return to walking normally. The demon’s carefree actions brought a smile to your face as the level of sinister in his dropped to a more friendly one.

“Well, you definitely killed it on the dance floor.” The man’s eyes crinkled as you laughed at your own pun, providing a laugh track to accompany you. That grinning mouth twitched, about to say something witty you were sure, but he was cut off by a loud and long rumbling. 

“Worked up an appetite, didn’t we?” You blushed at his teasing tone but felt far more comfortable now that he was over his sadistic high.

“Yeah. Do you mind if we stop by a coffee shop? I think I saw one just down the street a bit. Or you can just leave me here if you’re busy.” An Overlord was bound to be busy. Alastor, in particular, only spent a few hours at the hotel at a time, at least, from what you saw of him. But you hoped he could squeeze you in for a few. Despite his gruesome display earlier, you were still having a nice day with him so far.

“Midday coffee sounds like a splendid idea. In fact, I happen to know just the place that serves a particularly good brew. We’ll have to take my way to get there though, if that’s alright with you, darling?” His chattery voice picked up and he leaned a little more towards you almost intimidatingly, a sign that he liked the idea. Since the man only really liked to cause mischief and suffering, his eager countenance immediately tripped a warning in your mind.

“No Eldritch Sphere.” Remembering the tentacled transport, you vehemently insisted against it, much to Alastor’s amusement. The smile on his face told you that he had been thinking about that one, the jerk. With a nonchalant ‘Hm’, he backed away slightly, not the least put off by your demand.

“Haha. Alright, my dear. We’ll do as the lady says. Shall we?” A clawed hand extended out to you in polite invitation. As soon as you took it, your arm was securely wrapped around his, bringing you to his side to escort, something you were growing used to by now. 

His shadows engulfed the both of you and you two began to walk through an inverted landscape. The colors were swapped and dark blurred figures passed by quickly.

“Keep a tight hold on me here. Wouldn’t want to get lost in this realm. The residents are of a more ‘shady’ sort than even those in the Pentagram.” Misshapen shadows (ah! Shades. ‘Shady’, you snorted to yourself) with colorful pits for eyes narrowly brushed against you. Their weird shapes stretched around and in comical ways to avoid the two of you as Alastor led without compromising his path to any specter.

The scenery shifted quickly. Within two more steps, the inverted world let go of you and you two were outside a quaint looking building with ‘Café’ plainly painted on the red awning. It couldn't have taken more than 100 steps in that shadow plane but according to the pentagram in the sky, you two were now on the opposite end of the city from where you had been. The delicious scents of food and coffee wafted from the open door causing your stomach to growl once again, hunger getting to an uncomfortable level.

Ever the gentleman, Alastor led you inside, arm still curled comfortably around yours. The waitstaff at the front greeted the two of you with a smile, only to flinch when his eyes registered the bright red Overlord beside you. Before the scared server could scuttle away, Alastor stepped forward.

“Table for two, my good man. Preferably outside since the weather is so pleasant today.”

“Of course. Please follow me.” To the server’s credit, he didn’t stutter as he led you and Al to the outdoor seating area. Seeing your arrival, several other customers vacated their seats or curled away trying to make their presence smaller. This pattern of fear and avoidance was familiar. You used to do the same when encountering an Overlord.

Alastor’s POV

Pulling out a chair, he waited for Ynna to sit only to find his chivalry had gone completely unnoticed by the woman who was pulling her own chair out.

“Ehem.” Wide eyes turned to him in confusion before he gestured to the chair he’d pulled.

“Oh.” The confused woman quickly made her way over and he seated her nicely. “Thanks, Al.” The waiter left the menu as he took a seat across from her. There was an awkward smile on her face as she regarded him, the same one she had when he offered to escort her to breakfast yesterday.

“You really aren’t used to being escorted around, are you? Were there no gentlemen around when you were alive?” They were small instances but the hesitation and outright rejections to his courtesy were starting to pile up. She clearly knew he was a gentleman yet she never seemed to expect him to act like it. It was just a bit insulting.

“Not really. Some of my exes did stuff like that from time to time but it’s not really common anymore unless you’re dating or old. I’m guessing it’s something that was standard manners during your time?” The awkward smile on her face was replaced with a contemplative one, genuine curiosity peeking through those expressive eyes of hers. The knowledge that she’d had other partners before was a tad irritating. He wondered if she’d ever bitten them but now was not the time for such thoughts. They were clearly lacking in many ways from the disinterest Ynna showed when mentioning them.

“Of course. Any man claiming to be a well-raised man should at least know how to properly escort a gal around town. You’d be laughed out of certain circles if you couldn’t show some basic decorum.” And wasn’t that intriguing? It seemed courtship and manners had changed quite a lot between his time and hers. What he saw as proper etiquette, she equated to conduct between couples.

Looking at the woman across from him, she had yet to outright express discomfort at his actions. At most, she gave a polite rejection. A little nudge here and there from him and she always ended up accepting his gestures. Did that mean she accepted what could be a sign of courtship to her? It would surely make swaying her to his side a lot simpler if his usual conduct was all it took to win her over. But no. He knew what adoring, ‘loving’ and lusting gazes looked like. She had yet to direct any such attention to him. More than likely, she was trying to accommodate him and his way of doing things as was her nature to do so.

The waiter returned to take their orders. Black coffee for both and a croque madame for Ynna.

“No cream this time? Or a latte perhaps?” 

“It’s a new place. I always try the coffee first. If it’s bad, then I’ll order a latte so I won’t have to taste the coffee as much.” She made a face, a little grimace to emphasize her distaste for awful coffee. 

“I seem to recall you taking your milk with a dash of coffee yesterday.” Even he would admit that the hotel coffee was just passable but surely his brew couldn’t have been so terrible that she had to dilute it to make it tolerable. He hadn’t even added anything to it that could make it unappetizing to her.

“Oh. I was a patient. Didn’t want to deal with anything too bitter when I wasn’t feeling well.” She explained the inadvertent insult away with some sheepishness. Seeing that he wasn’t the least bit offended, her face then shifted to a more inquisitive look. Her brow raised and eyes slightly squinted. ‘Judgy’ would be the correct term to describe the look. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those coffee snobs. The ones that say it ain’t coffee if it has anything but coffee in it.” 

“Merely stating an observation, darling.” He smiled a small one, teeth put away and relaxed, pleased. Just a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t ever dare to show such a cheeky attitude towards him. Now, she sassed him as she did Angel Dust. That gave him pause.

His pleasure dampened at the thought of being on the same level as that harlot.

There was a break in their conversation as their orders were set down before them. Raising the cup of steaming coffee to his lips, he pretended that it had his attention. From downcast eyes, he observed the woman across from him. First, she smelled wafting scent from her cup and then she took a tentative sip. From the light twitch in her jaw, she was moving her tongue around to better taste it, a motion he’d become awfully familiar with after watching her eat his meals. A small smile graced her lips as she found it satisfactory. It seemed Ynna truly had more than a casual taste for caffeine.

“Acceptable?”

“It’s good.” She took another small sip before picking up her utensils to work on her meal. She cut the first half of the sandwich into little bite-sized pieces, making sure each little one was adorned with a bit of the runny egg yolk. Her knife work was clean as usual. A pity it wasn’t something of his but his imagination could fill in the gaps. 

The prongs firmly pierced the stacks of ham, cheese, bread and egg, her hand gently lifting it up to make sure that all pieces wouldn’t fall off the fork. He could imagine that instead of ham, it was a slice from his thigh. It would have to have been prepared much in advance to cure it for consumption. A little salty and a little sweet. She would love it. The agony of waiting would have been worth it to see her so delicately cut through it and prepare her first bite with such reverence for the dish.

Just as the telltale sparks of pleasure began in him, those wide eyes turned to him once more.

“You want a bite?” She offered the first pieces of her meal. A spark popped in his head like a balloon, startling him out of his imaginations. An electric buzz rippled in his chest to his fingertips as she looked at him. She was doing this to him again, caring and friendly and completely unaware of his thoughts. Satisfaction roiled in him that he’d earned this much of her grace in their time together.

“Certainly.” She lifted the fork up to him, waiting for him to take it from her hand. Instead of grabbing the metal, he wrapped his hand around hers, bringing both her and the utensil forward as he took the offered bite. He held her gaze as his teeth scraped off the sandwich piece from her fork, slowly. The action was a little too suggestive even for him but he did want to see how she would react. Could he seduce her with just a bit of implication? Bump him a little higher on the totem pole of her most liked persons?

Aside from a slight widening of her eyes, there was no fluster. It seemed that hadn’t affected her at all. How dull. He immediately let go and let her take her fork back as if nothing happened. She flagged the waiter to ask for another. At least she had the mind to consider hygiene. If she had gone on to use the same fork as he had…a shiver went up his back, both disgusted and…intrigued. He took another sip of coffee to chase that feeling away.

“Another observation, darling. You seem to like feeding people, don’t you? Chicharonnes from last time, sandwiches from this morning…loan sharks to myself.” She stilled from stabbing her new fork into her meal, eyes regarding him with incredulity as he brought up her earlier actions. It had taken until getting to the café for his earlier excitement to wane. What a number she did onto his brain by committing one small act. Even now, he had to tamp down that metaphorical mental switch lest he become a madly grinning fool once more.

“I like to share yummy food with my friends. And..besides, I didn’t like the guy.” It could have almost passed for a matter-of-factly tone had he not been paying attention. The goat let out a small sigh, bothered but not saddened or devastated as she’d been when she killed that deer. 

“I didn’t realize dislike would be enough reason for you to be complicit to murder, darling. And you can’t say you just felt like poking his eyes out. I’ve given you impulse control, after all.” Setting his cup down, his head rested on his hands, wanting to hear her thoughts on the matter. 

“Just…thought he deserved it so I actually went ahead and did it. Sometimes it just feels like doing the good thing doesn’t feel right…” It was said so lowly yet he could hear the frustration in her voice. “Or maybe I am just a terrible person deep down. Impulse or not, I did choose to do that. I don’t even feel bad that I helped you kill the guy.” The self-deprecating tone shifted her weak poker face, letting him see a glimpse of her shame.

“You don’t?” The admission perked him up. Was this model citizen of his, the caring and sweet and thoughtful and empathetic girl, admitting to a lack of remorse? Granted, the man was a stranger to her but a normal person wouldn’t just commit murder and feel nothing. What changed that she who was so virtuous could sin so casually? Was he starting to be a bad influence on her? The thought was a delicious one.

“No. Valentino’s men can go die and I’d gladly push them off a cliff as long as they landed on him when they splat down.” As soon as the sentence was out of her mouth, she grimaced, cutlery gently calling onto her plate as she sighed defeatedly. “Oh that was a violent thought. Charlie would be so disappointed in me.” 

“I’m surprised Charlie’s disappointment is what you’re fretting about. Wouldn’t the damnation of your soul and the increasingly impossible goal of redemption be your first priority?”

“Is it that surprising? I mean, I made that deal with you mainly because I didn’t want to hurt anyone unintentionally. And redemption…while I don’t think it’s impossible, I always thought it was going to be extremely difficult. Because of that, I’d rather prioritize doing well by the people that are being good to me here.” His grin remained firmly neutral as he processed this delicious piece of information. It seemed he’d put too much weight on how much she valued redemption. What truly weighed her heart was something simpler and more tangible. He had no time to think more deeply into that as she turned her distracted gaze to him, her eyes a little sad. A sadness she caused to herself. He could enjoy that. “I guess you’re enjoying all of this, aren’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t be delighted to have their companion join them in their hobbies? Even if you were only dipping your fingers into the murky waters, it still counts as participation. By golly my dear! Why, you’re now an accomplice to murder and I, for one, am not disappointed. Maybe I can bring you along on one of my outings next time. You can pick up any stragglers for me since you’re oh so helpful.” As much as he adored her happiness, a sadistic amusement filled him at the thought of pushing her buttons. By now, he knew that this much teasing would irritate her, make those large eyes water with delicious tears, but wouldn’t damage their relationship. They would joke about it later and he could have his fun.

However, instead of guilty sadness, soft laughter greeted him after a pause.

“Oh. My…Alastor! Haha. You’re ridiculous.”

Ynna’s POV

The ever familiar and crushing fear of failure loomed over you as you thought about what you did. Why did it leave you so scared when it should be a stepping stone for personal growth like everyone says? It was the anxiety, the anxiety of falling ever further from your goals and not knowing where you’ll land. You’d always thought you’d get back up and try again no matter what happened. But it was not knowing how much work you’d have to put in that scared you. Would you fall so much from your goal that even your determination to succeed would succumb to the weight of sacrifices you would have to make to climb back up? 

As you watched the shark-man get eaten by Alastor’s grotesque form, the lack of remorse you felt hearing his screams concerned you. Shouldn’t it disturb you that you hand-delivered the man to his death at the hands of the Radio Demon? Was your disdain for his boss really enough justification to do that to him? Morality told you that it was unjustified yet your heart didn’t care. Not one bit. Was something wrong with you? Were you really so callous?

“I guess you’re enjoying all of this, aren’t you?” A bitterness pierced your heart that echoed in your tone. Even though the question had been directed at him, the painful feelings were all for yourself. Alastor was acting as he always did. You were the one doing things you normally wouldn’t do, agreeing with things your morality would reject.

Now, you were faced with the reality that you helped kill a man. But that didn’t concern you so much as your straying even further from redemption. A failure to your own morals, a disappointment to Charlie, a sinner worthy of Hell. If Charlie, if anyone in the hotel, ever found out, would they be disappointed? They all thought you were the nice one, the kind one. The one most likely to go to Heaven. It scared you to think about disappointing them. Or that they’d like you less for not being the perfectly sweet person they thought you were.

“By golly my dear! Why, you’re now an accomplice to murder and I, for one, am not disappointed.” He said with an excited flourish, a cruel smile on his lips. Your depressing thoughts screeched to a halt at his unvoiced laughter. While you knew that Alastor was mocking you for giving into petty urges, his words meant to sink you into despair for his amusement actually did the opposite.

Sat in front of you was Exhibit A(lastor/sshole) of someone who wasn’t turned away by your moral failures. The man delighted in it, practically kicking his feet. He taunted and teased you for your failures that choked your soul in guilt and shame whenever you thought of them. But he also belittled them for in the face of his long list of crimes, they were nothing. It reminded you that by Hell’s standards, your behavior was very mild and maybe…maybe, you could be forgiven for straying from the right path. Maybe the others wouldn’t think less of you for it. Maybe they’d understand.

Relief followed that thought, such a rush that gushed out from your chest in laughter.

“Alastor! Haha. You’re ridiculous.” The stupefied expression on his face as you laughed and laughed further sent you into giggles. He was always so mean, rubbing your mistakes in your face just to make you feel bad. It was funny to see him not get the pay off he was expecting.

“I’m intrigued now. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You laughed more. He didn’t know how much he’d inadvertently cheered you up when he’d only wanted to push you down.

“I should’ve expected that you’d find me helping you kill a guy fun. Hahaha.” You cut another piece of your croque madame and put it onto the small plate his coffee cup had come with, an offering. A thank you. “I’m just glad there’s at least someone who isn’t disappointed that I’m not as good of a person as I thought I was.”

“If you’re thinking one measly assist is enough to grant you notoriety in the ranks of Hell’s demented denizenry, then you’re quite mistaken. It takes much more than that to be irredeemable scum and you’re still far from capable of even scratching the surface of being evil, darling.” You couldn’t tell if this was supposed to mock you for being ridiculously weak or remind you that you were still way too nice. Either way, it didn’t hurt you at all and you smiled at the perplexed Overlord, getting back into your happier mood from earlier.

“You would know.” 

“I would know.” 

You smiled. He smirked. Another lovely moment to add to your growing memories with this fascinating yet terrifying man. He leaned forward, slender hands cradling his head atop the table, his smile pleasant and peaceful. You took a sip of your coffee to savor the moment.

“You do have potential, darling. With your unique constitution, think of how much more powerful you could be if you changed your diet a little bit.” His redirection of the conversation had you choking.

“ *cough cough cough (lots of coughing)* ” Spit went down the wrong tube to which the devilish man handed you a napkin, prepared for your reaction. 

“I’d rather not think about that.” Eat another demon’s flesh and blood to gain strength? Of all the powers you could have gotten after being dumped into Hell, why did it have to involve eating other people? You would have been happy to just have another set of arms. 

“But the possibilities, darling. If you could heal with just a bit of blood, what more could you do if you actually consumed flesh?” With a flourish, his clawed hand moved through the air gesturing to the denizens walking along outside the café property, unaware that the Radio Demon dined just a few feet away. A thin sharp claw sliced through the air, beheading the passersby in his mind. As if you would actually go ahead and kill some random people if you had more power. Well, maybe if they provoked you first. “I’m intrigued enough to volunteer some of mine if you’re so inclined to experiment.”

“Oh no! Hells no. I’m not even going to entertain that. I have no desire to join your cannibal club whatsoever. Especially you, Alastor. Didn’t we already talk about not hurting yourself?” You crossed your arms into an X, all but shoving it in his face. 

“But it’s not for you, darling. It’s for me. I find the idea of it so fun. I’ve yet to meet someone in Hell with your specific power.” You continued to scowl at him, completely put off by his amusement at your predicament. “Oh alright. Since you’re so against it. The offer still stands though.” Should you be honored or disturbed by his offer? A being of greater power was offering you some of it. Too bad that it was in such a disgusting way. You couldn’t believe the audacity of this man. Did this guy think he was Jesus? Why was he going around sharing his body and blood!?

“Please stop. I can’t decide if you’re being serious or you’re just saying that to annoy me.” 

The grin he gave you didn’t tell you whether it was one or the other. Probably both. You thought you might just go insane. The idea of this maniac chopping off his leg to serve for dinner didn’t seem so unlikely anymore after last night. An image popped into your head. Alastor prettily dressed up on a silver platter, for you to try. Maybe in another context, you would have been flattered…nope. Let’s not think about that. You shooed those inappropriate thoughts away.

The Radio Demon was still watching you with his amused and mischievous eyes. You took note of the way they looked exactly like a few weeks ago. Back then, you’d found the look scary as he popped out of nowhere and pushed you around. Now, you realized this was him finding something fun to mess with you with. You internally groaned, already seeing the man casually bringing up your newly discovered powers in future. He likely wouldn’t stop until he got bored of it.

Thankfully, he didn’t push his new interest anymore and you were able to continue your late lunch without incident. Well, almost without incident. The outdoor radio of the cafe started playing a pop song that mysteriously changed to music similar to the one in Mimzy’s club. Swing music, Alastor called it at some point in between his other chatter.

Once again, it was you and the Radio Demon, enjoying a relatively peaceful time while he forcefully changed the stereo songs to his music.

——

“You didn't have to pay for lunch, Al.” Lunch completed,  both of you were strolling back home to the hotel. You tried to pay for lunch as you were the one who asked him to join you but the man had insisted. A gentleman should pay for the lady, he said. It was sweet of him but you were already planning to figure out a way to pay next time you two were out and about together. If there was a next time.

“Oh my dear, I didn’t even need to pay. The kind gentleman at the register just wanted us gone. Said it was on the house.” The grin on his face told you that he expected the treatment. Which you should have expected since most sinners feared particularly violent Overlords like Alastor. Your sentiment still stood though. You’d treat him next time for being nice…in his own twisted way.

“Guess they’d rather us dine and dash than dine and slash.” 

“Yes. I simply don’t understand how they expect to make a killing with their business model.” His knife-like smile grinned back at you, always delighted to share your play on words.

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can to avoid being in the red .” You quipped back. 

A laugh track played in the background as Alastor grabbed your arm to entangle with his. The both of you walked the rest of the way in silence, occasionally broken when the chatterbox thought of something that he just had to share. Like how ugly the Vees’ tower was or how loud and unpleasant cars were. You didn’t think you’d get to ever be interested to learn about transportation in the 1930s but he somehow made it sound exciting. And you were a captive audience on his arm the whole time so you couldn’t even leave when it did get boring.

Just as you reached the gates, he disentangled himself from you. “Finally back, home sweet home. What a lovely day that was, don’t you think so dear?”

“Oh absolutely.” You were already making plans to go out again. Maybe drag the others out dancing with you, or even Al if he was free. At the very least, you would be adding visiting local cafes to your list of hobbies again. You hadn’t done it since dying but the atmosphere today wasn’t any different than it was on Earth. That was promising.

“Fantastic. Would you happen to be free to do lunch again tomorrow?” A happy spark lit within you. You were being invited. To lunch with a friend! 

“Yeah!”

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

The party was in two days and everyone was bustling to prepare. It was the first big event for the hotel and Charlie wanted it to be absolutely perfect. 

To the point of anxiety.

“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. There’s still so much to do. There’s the food and the music and what if we don’t have enough chairs? What if more people come than RSVP’d? I just realized that it’s gonna be so chaotic and —“ Several papers were flying around the blonde as she frantically checked everything. Everyone, except the resident Overlord, was busy with something while also watching the princess flitter around in a panic. It was concerning but you honestly didn’t know how to help her out. Luckily, she had a capable girlfriend.

“Hun, relax. Everything’s gonna be okay, yeah? Look. Everyone’s pitching in and we have everything ready to set up. Want to go through your checklist?” Vaggie held the yellow ball of anxious energy still and rearranged her messy papers. Her coaxing seemed to work as the princess actually took a few breaths to calm down and looked over her list of things to do.

“Decorations?”

“We got them.” Vaggie answered.

“Music and Entertainment?” 

“Al and I got that.” Mimzy sent a cute card yesterday to remind Al that he promised her the spotlight for the evening. The tone was mildly threatening but Alastor chuckled heartily at the petulance as he showed it to you.

“Food?”

“Confirmed with the catering company.” Vaggie picked up what looked like a receipt and showed it to Charlie.

“Chairs and tables?” 

“A couple of fellas from the rental company dropped ‘em off this morning. I showed ‘em where to put it, if ya know what I mean.” Against the wall were said tables and chairs. Angel, with his many arms, was moving them to the planned layout, brows wiggling as he made his usual innuendos.

“What about the sound systems?”

“I believe I’ve got it all sssset up. Jussst have a few more speakers to connect and sound testing. Shouldn’t be any trouble.” The Egg Bois and Sir Pent were comically tangled in wires. The snakeman silently hissed his displeasure at modern technology and its lack of ingenuity to his little eggies. 

“Drinks?”

“Stocked up on booze and juice.” Clinking bottles could be heard from behind the bar where Husk was rearranging the new stock.

“See. Everything is going great and on schedule. We’ll have plenty of space for everyone and it’ll be a blast.” The moth lady comforted the frazzled princess. 

“Yeah. You’re right.” Charlie looked up from her checklists, eyes less strained than they were before. “You’re right.” Her gaze softened. She welcomed Vaggie’s comfort as the moth led her away to take a much needed break. 

“Ooof. Wouldn’t wanna be in her shoes.” Angel casually walked up to you, hands on his hips as he watched Charlie try to fix her over-agitated hair back into a ponytail. You silently agreed with him. Being creative, bold and responsible for other people was intimidating. You could never do that. It was why you admired Charlie so much. Though her confidence faltered on occasion, she still poured her heart out for her goals, leading everyone forward in the face of uncertainty and the judgment of the very people she was working so hard for. You sincerely hoped to be able to help her…despite your Hellish body’s unusual quirk.

“Hey. This is cooking wine. Better bring this to the kitchen.” A heavy clank of a crate emphasized Husk’s find, drawing your attention from the beginnings of another existential depression. Right. There was work to do.

“I got it.” You grabbed the heavy crate with both hands and made for the kitchen. Before you could reach the hallway out of the lobby, Alastor appeared. Speaking of admirable people, there was also this man who oozed confidence and demanded respect even as he was walking casually towards you. 

“Ah. There you are, darling.” A small bit of excitement shot through you as he approached your side, his amiable demeanor bringing out a smile from you which he returned with his own knife-like grin. “What do you have there?” 

“Sherry.” Soon as you looked up to answer Al’s question, your stomach growled. Sending a sheepish grin to Alastor, he had an amused smile on his face, already used to you and your appetite. “You wouldn’t happen to have any snacks on you by any chance? All this work is making me hungry.”

“Almonds alright?” With a snap of his fingers, a bag appeared in his hands.

“Sure.” Having received your affirmative, you expected him to give you the little snack. Instead, his gloved hands reached into the bag. Seeds in his grasp, that gloved hand bobbed a red-capped knuckle in your direction, a small coaxing smile on his face. You understood his intention. You paused briefly, a little thrown off by the startlingly intimate gesture from the older man, but welcomed it all the same. Opening your mouth, you allowed him to feed you directly. He tossed three almonds in which you gratefully chewed on. You nodded in thanks to your friend. It was nice to have magic. He could summon snacks at will.

He seemed pleased by that, his small smile stretching a bit more at the edges as he placed the little bag into the crate for you to pick up later. You noted this. Over the past few days, he’d become much more comfortable with doing gestures like this one that were too forward for a man with his aversion to caring acts. It was always a little jarring for him to do so but you found yourself liking it. The man genuinely was fond of you, a fondness that was more than just finding you amusing. At least, that was how you interpreted things and it made you happy.

“Oh, daddy. Why don’t you nut in my mouth too?” Angel moaned from behind you after seeing the interaction.

“I’m assuming that means something inappropriate so no.” With the usual quipped smile, he addressed Angel’s half-joke. You debated whether to explain what a nut was in this context but figured Alastor would ask you if he really wanted to know. 

“So you were looking for me?”

“Yes. I wanted to let you know that I am unable to attend our lunch plans today. I have some business to take care of in town though you are welcome to join me if you’d like.” Turning away from leering at Angel Dust, he fixed a small smile on his face. The canceling of your plans was a little disappointing. You’d been going out to lunch with him everyday since the first time and had really liked this routine you were forming. But at least he was nice enough to give you a heads up.

“Oh okay. Thanks for letting me know but I’ve still got some stuff to do. Should we skip tomorrow and the day after too? I’m sure the party prepping is going to be a lot busier especially with how anxious Charlie’s been about the whole thing.” Thinking about the hustle of the next few days, you thought it best to stay home and help out. The man seemed to deflate just a little at your suggestion. Aww. So you weren’t the only one dismayed by your busy schedules. 

“That might be wise. So say, let’s pick up again after the party?”

“Sounds like a plan.” A thrill shot through you at being invited again, excitement at further developing your friendship with the Overlord sending little happy sparks over your heart. It was lovely to feel that your company was wanted.

As the Overlord vanished away to do whatever business he had, you returned to working. There was undoubtedly a lot to do but having so many hands around sped things up quite a bit. You estimated that most things would already be done by the evening if everyone really felt driven. 

“So like, who’d you guys get for the band and performers?” Taking a break, you and Angel sat on some of the chairs the spider had set out. 

“Oh. It’s one of Al’s friends, Mimzy.”

“Arggh fuck.” From behind the bar, Husk stood, leaning his upper body onto the counter as he scowled.

“Hm?”

“Let’s just say Mimzy isn’t exactly my favorite person out there. And if she’s coming here, let’s hope she ain’t looking to bring trouble with her. She’s the type that likes to get Alastor to clean up whatever mess she’s gone and gotten herself into.” With that, he poured himself a drink. Been a while since you’d seen Husk particularly unhappy about someone. 

“That tracks. Alastor had to fight off some loan sharks for her the day we went to see her.” You noted the unimpressed shrug Husk gave you as if to say, ‘See what I mean?’. 

“Wait wait wait. I think you’re skippin’ an important detail here, toots.” Angel swung his long legs off the table he’d been resting them on. “Smiles has friends?”

“I mean, yeah.” You pointed to Niffty and yourself. The little demon was busy stabbing after a roach to notice. At least she and her knife were a safe distance away from everyone else.

“No. I mean, other than you two weirdo bitches.”

“Yeah. Said they knew each other from before Hell.”

“Well shit. Big mystery man just got even more mysterious. Wonder if she’d talk about what he was like up top. Think she was his girlfriend? Fwb? Spill it, bitch. You’ve been hanging out ‘im enough to know this shit by now.” He leaned in close, genuine curiosity biting at him. Too bad for him. You didn’t know much about the two other than what was said at the club.

“Could be. I didn’t think to ask but they did look pretty close.” A frown tugged on Angel’s face as he popped out a little ‘Boringgg~’ complaint at you. Alastor talked about many things, murder and whatever random bits of knowledge he had, but never his personal life. You’d already considered it a win that you’d met one of his other friends. The image of their fantastic dancing flashed through your mind, heart racing as you remembered their pizzazz. “Did y’all know Al could dance? Like dance dance? I think he called it a fox trot.”

“Who, Smiles? I think he did something like that the day we met ‘im.” You had heard about the way he’d come to the hotel from Angel before, all flashy shows and sinking poor Sir Pentious’ ship into the eldritch sphere, showing both sides of his personality in the process.

“Sounds something like this, right?” Husk made a move and turned a few dials behind him. From the radio on the shelf, peppy swing music played. 

“Yeah. I think it went like this?” You tried to emulate the steps you saw and danced to at the lounge but the one time experience wasn’t really enough to ingrain the steps into your mind. Not to mention, Alastor proceeded to drag you around until you were too busy trying not to fall over instead of learning the steps. He was a stupid good dancer, at least, so it was fun.

“Haha. Nah, kid. You do it like this.” At Husk’s invitation, you fell into the starting position with him, following his slow lead until the basic steps became familiar to you once more. “Thought you didn’t know it.” He quirked a long eyebrow at your pick up speed.

“I’m a fast learner.” With a little bit of pride, you continued moving to the music with him, his steps much more careful than Alastor’s had been. Definitely easier to follow.

“Isss this a new style of dance that’s in these days?” Seeing that everyone was goofing around now, Sir Pent decided to join in. It looked like he’d delegated the rest of the work to the Egg Bois who were ‘nested’ in many many coiled wires. 

“New style? Hell naaaaah. This shit’s classic at this point. Ain’t no one dancing’ like this unless they’re into ballroom.”

“Do you know how, Angel?” While you knew the spider could pole dance and do urban and hip-hop, you didn’t know if he was familiar with ballroom style dances.

“ ‘Course. C’mon, Whiskers. Let’s show ‘em how it’s done.” The cat snorted before an amused smirk took over his face. As soon as Angel’s gloved hand was in his grasp, he spun the spider out, the spider’s long limbs sweeping a clumsy arc that you had to duck under to avoid getting hit. “Ah shit!”

“What’s wrong? Thought you wanted to show ‘em a proper dance.” The teasing lilt of Husk’s voice smoothed into his signature drawl as he smirked up at the surprised spider. 

“Oh okay Kitten. Show me what ya got.” A competitive expression spread on both their faces as they started moving in sync. It was a touch more advanced than what Husk showed you earlier, made even more complicated by Angel’s tall stature and Husk’s wings. But they moved with grace and confidence, somehow accommodating their Hellish anatomies. Unlike Alastor’s and Mimzy’s chaotic performance, Angel and Husk moved with slower steps, as if each move was thought out so they could be  executed perfectly. A little itch in your brain flared up as you watched them. They looked awfully cute together. Awfully close too. 

A light bulb lit up as you caught the glances they shared. Oh. Oh! That would be so cute!

Suppressing a knowing grin, you continued to watch the two of them spin and hold each other. It was pretty and upbeat in a way that drew you in, the desire to join them sprouting in your chest. But you wouldn’t ruin their moment. Turning to the other beginner in the room, you offered him your hand.

“Wanna try learning, Sir Pent?”

“Me? You want to teach me?” The snake pointed a finger at himself, surprised by the invitation. 

“Yeah!”

“Well…I suppose I could give it a shot.” The snake timidly brought you both to the starting position. It was only here that you questioned things. How did you instruct someone to dance when the other person didn’t have feet? It seemed both of you had this thought as you both froze for a few seconds, trying to figure it out. It didn’t help that Sir Pentious was supposed to lead but didn’t know how and you only knew the basics.

“Uhhh…we could start with a forward step (slide?) from you?” The snake nodded, following your lead to step back, step back and then to the side. Unlike Alastor’s and Husk’s steady postures, Sir Pent’s torso moved a lot more, his shoulders minutely swaying as his abdomen undulated with each movement. If you weren’t so focused on stepping correctly, you might’ve been hypnotized by the serpentine motions. Instead, you were quite pleased that the initial awkwardness started to fade as you both settled into a steady rhythm. “We’re doing great.” You praised which seemed to perk the man up.

“This is similar to a waltz. So let’s try this…” Gone was the shyness of earlier, replaced by clumsy enthusiasm as he took the lead. Instead of steadily going backwards, you were moved into a box step. Since you didn’t have any feet movements to follow from him, you just tried to move around as best you could, thinking really hard about the few minutes Alastor did spend teaching you properly. 

Once the snakeman did get going, his natural drive to do better took over. Of course, neither of you knew the dance so you were making shit up as you went but it was fun. At one point, you tried to spin him, something that you came to immediately regret when you had to jump over his tail.

“Hah! What are you two even doing?” Angel and Husk stopped to watch the whimsical dance you’d gotten yourselves into.

“Whatever. Whoa.” For some reason you and Sir Pent decided to hold hands and turn away. Your held limbs raised atop your heads as you faced away from each other, his slimy tail hitting your calf as you went. Then you kept spinning to the giggles of you and Sir Pent.

“Amateurs.”

“Oooh me too! Me too! I love dancing.” Niffty popped out from the hallway, immediately seeing the spinning silliness and jumping in to join. Crashing her tiny body into your joined hands, she effectively got you two to let go. Little spindly black fingers grabbed each of you, swinging you and Sir Pentious around like dolls.

Somewhere, you’re aware, Angel was taking a video of this spinning mess of three. Eventually, a stray limb (yours? Pen’s?) got tangled where it wasn’t supposed to and sent you three careening off to the side. With a startled grunt, you fell backwards over Sir Pent’s tail as the man ended up at the bottom of your pile. Niffty fell face first into your stomach. Sir Pent had given up on getting back up, sounding just as dizzy as you were, and resigned himself to laying on the floor. The steady, no longer spinning, floor.

“You okay, guys?” The sound of groaning and Niffty’s mumbling into your shirt was all you could hear, a happy high slowly leaving you as you regained your bearings. It was always some kinda chaos with these people, you thought fondly. The little demon at your stomach rose up, a small toothy grin on her face as she looked directly into your soul.

“You’re good cuddle material.” The compliment threw you off with its suddenness and with one last painful squeeze to your middle, the gremlin of a woman hopped away back to do her chores. 

“Thanks?” 

The slimy tail beneath your legs started moving, a sign that Sir Pent was finally ready to get back up. Accommodating him but still not ready to follow, you shifted to the side, bringing your legs up a bit to allow him to slither free.

“Ok. Up ya come, babe. We still gotta clean that floor.” Chuckling, Angel approached offering a hand for you to bring yourself up. Your eyes met and feeling mischievous, you allowed your pupils to shift shapes, catching the spider with your goat eyes. “Hah! Cute!”

As you prepared for him to pinch your cheeks for using your farm animal charm, there was a faint sound of glass breaking and then sharp piercing pain at your shoulder.

“What the—!?” Heads snapped towards where the front window had broken just in time to see holes appear in the glass, bullets breaking their way in. The hand that meant to pull you up roughly shoved you to the ground as the rapid fire shots traveled through the lobby and everyone ducked for cover.

Just as the barrage stopped, a pounding came at the door. Were they trying to ram it open!? A particularly hard push punched a big enough crack through the sturdy double doors that the voices of the intruders came through. 

“Where’s that goat bitch!? Give her ‘ere and no one has to get hurt.”

It brought a sense of déjà vu. The loan sharks? Didn’t Alastor eat them all? 

The intruders continued battering against the door. Panic and anger filled you with each push. What the hell were they doing here looking for you? And they were threatening everyone else. Whatever the reason was, you didn’t want to be the reason the others were put in danger.

“Guys, you need to run back. Since they’re looking for me, I’ll go deal with…it?” Behind you, Angel held guns in each of his arms, all six out and deadly. Husk was also in a stance, clearly ready to fight with sharp looking cards in his hands.

“Fuck that. Go run up and get Charlie and Vaggie, toots. We’ll deal with these mutherfuckas.”

Bewildered, you glanced at the two of them. When did they have weapons? Vaggie should’ve confiscated them.

“Egg Bois! Get the ray gun and explosives! It’s about to get messy in this house!”

All around you, everyone got into a battle stance, clearly used to the sudden attacks and fighting back. Meanwhile, your first instinct had been to run and hide. Frustration and shame followed. What more could you do, though? You didn’t know how to fight. The only reason you’ve survived was because you could run away and hide quickly. If only you could do some damage too.

“Ynna! Go get Charlie and Vaggie!” Even Angel knew you wouldn’t be of any use in this fight. But you could get help. It was something. You nodded and sprinted as fast as you could to the office. The hallways passed by in a blur, adrenaline pumping through your heart as you pushed to move faster. Charlie. Vaggie. You called their names in your head like a mantra, single-minded focused on getting to them.

Luckily, the commotion seemed to have gotten their attention as they too were sprinting towards the lobby.

“Ynna! What—“

“People are attacking the hotel. They were looking for me but I don’t know why.”

“Ok. We got it. Go hide!” Vaggie commanded as her spear manifested in her hands. 

With that, you were left alone. The warning bells in your head were blaring but they were drowned out by a pit of despair. Was hiding all you could do? Why were you so weak that everyone didn’t expect you to fight with them? Surely, you could try to help even a little, like with Alastor—!

Before you could process that thought fully, you were already sprinting again. This time, it was to a foreign space you’d never been to but it was worth a shot if all you could do was get help. 

The song in the elevator sounded too cheerful for the situation you were in. Tension built within you as you waited inside the lift as it brought you up to the top floor.

Down the hall was the fire escape that led up to the rooftop. Your vague memory of this place was thankfully accurate. Across the rooftop entrance was a rickety looking metal walkway connected to the haphazardly added radio tower. Dashing to the door, you thanked the stars that aligned when you found it unlocked. Making your way to the big desk with buttons, you realized that you knew nothing about how studios worked.

“Button. Button. Please tell me there’s a button to turn this thing on.” Thankfully, there was something that looked like a prominent switch on the upper right of the desk by the microphone. Taking a chance, you flipped it. A small red light blinked on one of the machines and a familiar dark surge of electricity, demonic power, flooded the room. Your heart squeezed in fright as it brushed against you, finally truly recognizing this as the Radio Demon’s domain. It conjured images of warped grins and a mouth full of teeth set in a stitched up face, shadows clawing at your sides as you tried not to scream. The already agitated warnings in your head only blared louder, almost paralyzing in their desperate screeching. Was this really a good idea? 

The ‘On Air’ sign above the desk turned on.

You gulped, nerves getting to you as you recalled the demon’s ferocity.

“Alastor?” The first tentative call of his name was coated in fear. Only the Radio Demon ever spoke in his broadcast. The other voices were painful tortured screams that haunted many a weaker sinner’s nightmares, including yourself on some occasions. What were you thinking, coming up here and risking pissing Alastor off? But your friends needed help and Alastor was the strongest being you knew. 

The image of his red eyes squinted in delight at something you said came to mind, a tickle of reciprocal elation blossoming in your chest as he chuckled. It overthrew his more terrifying form. Right. Alastor. You somehow knew that he wouldn’t hurt you, not after all the time you’d spent together. Even if he got mad at you for trespassing, you were sure the man would forgive you if you cracked a couple of jokes at him. 

“Alastor,” You called with more determination. “Can you hear me? Please come back to the hotel. Please come back. We need help. SOS. Alastor! Come back to the hotel. The hotel is being attacked and we need the Radio Demon.” Only silence greeted you after speaking into the mic. You weren’t even sure if it actually worked. For all you knew, it could be impossible to send out radio waves without the demon present to facilitate. You tried to wait a little before speaking again, anxiety and fear gnawing at your insides as the seconds ticked by slowly. In theory, you wouldn’t have to wait long. The man had ways to get here quickly if he heard your call. 

A big explosion shook the ground and you screamed in shock. Panic flooded your veins as you thought about your friends. 

“Urgh fuck this. Al get over here!” Stupid man without a phone!

You lost patience for calling over the air. It was stupid to even try it when you didn’t know how to use the equipment. That same gnawing desperation to be of help clawed at you to move and go to your friends. Abandoning the radio tower, you went straight for the edge of the rooftop. From this vantage point, you could see several ledges and on instinct, you jumped.

With ease, you landed on the nearest balcony. The next step was easily identified and you continued to jump down, in incremental leaps, much faster than riding the elevator would have been. I’m a goat. I’m a goat. I’m a mountain goat. You chanted in your head to stop yourself from losing focus, a little aware that it was mostly instinct guiding you through each leap that you would’ve never thought to take otherwise.

Whatever you needed to do to get back to them.

Alastor’s POV

Another day, another deal to be made. 

He whistled along the street as he walked back to the hotel after securing yet another soul for his collection. No matter how many he owned, the raw power it gave him never failed to send a rush through his being. It was only too bad that he had to miss his lunch date with Ynna in order to seize this opportunity. But as much fun as he was having, Hell was a never ending rat race. He needed to put in the work if he wanted to continue to play. If only he had his full power…

His only consolation was that the woman had been just as disappointed as he, if the sparkle in her gaze when he asked to continue their routine later was anything to go by. Slowly, their relationship was getting to a good point and he was sure that he would be able to ask her seriously to eat something from him soon. A pleasant thrum buzzed in his chest as he thought of how to broach the topic to her. She would be surprised, surely. Taken aback and startled. But then her gaze would turn hostile for a moment as it always did when he said something she found particularly vile. Then, those eyes would soften, her accepting nature coming through. The contrasting sharpness and care always sent little sparks in his chest. That he could relish in both her fondness and displeasure was new to him. He usually enjoyed only the latter from others.

He could hear her voice in his mind, calling him in that exasperated tone of hers.

“Alastor? Alastor?”  

Blinking in surprise, he froze in his tracks as the static-ridden voice traveled through the air. Had he heard that correctly? Yes, he did. To his utter astonishment, Ynna’s frantic voice broadcast all over Pentagram City through his radio frequency, a message sending for help in a desperate attempt to reach him. Ignoring the awe and confusion of the crowds at the unfamiliar voice and completely unexpected contents of the broadcast, he immediately sunk into the shadows to get back. Which one was more surprising? That some ignorant and moronic sinners dared to attack his territory or that Ynna had used his broadcasting station to get ahold of him? Perhaps the latter. No one willingly wanted their voices on his radio, let alone his little goat who was known to lack courage when dealing with potentially dangerous things. Like trespassing into his studio, his sanctum, his throne. Despite the violation of his space, he didn’t find himself cross with the goat. In fact, he found it funny. She was just full of surprises.

In the minute it took to travel back, he found the station empty and still On Air. With a smile curling harshly on his face, he connected his microphone to the frequency. Might as well make a show out of this invasion attempt. 

He brought himself to the front of the hotel, just in time to see his goat making full use of her form as she quickly pranced down the building, balanced and agile, stopping just at the marquee above the entrance. In front of him, bullets were flying. The intruders seemed to be related to the ones he’d dealt with at Mimzy’s. The leader was yelling to find his goat. So Ynna was their target. But why? Well, it didn’t matter at the moment.

There was action to be caught. The hotel’s band of misfits were actually putting up a good fight, pushing the invaders out and bringing the battle to the front lawn. From her perch, even Ynna was joining the fray. The goat threw rocks and bricks that she’d found on the rooftop with surprising accuracy, hitting almost every shark she set her sights on.

“Ynna!? What the f—!? I told you to go hide!” Angel Dust hollered for a second before taking aim with his guns once more.

“Not happening!” It was funny to watch the goat do what she could, obviously not made for battle as she was. It would have been more comical had she not been so effective in her efforts. She hit her enemies just enough to distract or skew someone’s aim, giving for her allies ample opportunity to finish them. His amusement ended when one of the sharks saw her and immediately shot at her. His aim was messy, wastefully peppering bullets needlessly up the side of the building. The mess of bullets eventually hit her. Despite being so far away, her pained scream echoed through him, shaking his core awake. He’d been enjoying the chaos too much.

With his microphone in hand, he let his power seep through into the yard. It was time from a proper Radio Demon broadcast. 

His shadows howled in anticipation as he picked up the first sinner, skewering the man right through the middle, his guts popping out with the tendril sticking through his belly. It was painful. Excruciatingly so. A classic way to begin this segment of the show. The bullets turned to him now, a futile struggle against someone like him but he did appreciate the effort. Their terrified yells as they fought to keep his nightmarish self away were just perfect .

He wanted them to struggle more. Pure unrestrained glee filled him as he brought excessively agonizing punishment to the cretins who trespassed and harmed those in his territory.

Skewering the remaining thugs with eldritch tendrils, he made sure to rip them apart slowly, letting their screams filter into his microphone for all of Pentagram City to hear. Wonderful. Although, the chorus of “Alastor/Al” that came from his merry little gang made the show a touch more heroic than intended but variety was always good. It kept the listeners entertained. He ended that segment of the broadcast to the wet squelch of limbs thumping against grass, the barely there rasping breaths of the dying making fantastic background noise as he made eye contact with the leader who was barely hanging on. Blood oozed from his severed torso, only one arm left as he clawed for life.

“Let this be a reminder. The Hazbin Hotel is under my supervision. Should any invaders or trespassers think they can orchestrate some funny business here, well, your misguided attempts will be happily dealt with accordingly. ” His voice dropped to demonic levels, relishing the fear he could feel from both the man in front of him and the souls involuntarily listening to his performance. Slashing the last vestiges of life from the sinner’s eyes with his claws, he returned back to his usual form. Time for the finale.

Bringing himself up to the ledge where Ynna was gawking at him, he studied the damage done to her. She was bleeding from at least three places, tears and sweat marring her face as she gripped the ledge to keep herself up. Rage filled him at seeing her so weak. He should’ve kept those vermin alive for longer just to prolong their agony. At least he’d made the spectacle as gruesome as can be. He was sure to be covered in shark guts at the moment.

Her lovely eyes looked at him in joy and relief as he approached despite his undoubtedly awful appearance. He could feel blood and bits falling off with each step he took but she only reached out to him, fond and unafraid. His bloodlust and rage were tempered. He had better end his broadcast here before it got too wholesome.

“And for all of you dear listeners out there, our little hotel will be holding an open house in two days’ time. Feel free to stop by and enjoy the accommodations! Food! Dancing! All the restrained chaos the best and only reform facility in Hell can offer! Once again, this is your beloved Radio Demon and surprise guest signing off.” He moved the microphone closer to her. She listened to his shows. She would know what to do.

“Have a happy day in Hell.” They signed off together.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

Your shoulder and shin flared in burning pain as you laid on the ground after taking a couple bullets to the leg. Tears dripped from your eyes as you stared blankly at the crimson sky, trying to reign in the agony, to hold it together, so you could keep fighting. Piercing screams erupted from the lawn and for a moment, your heart seized, breath caught sharply thinking it was one of your friends.

But then you heard a familiar crackle of static. A flood of relief and joy filled you at the sound, its sharp electronic breaks hammering away at the spikes of anxiety and adrenaline coursing through your veins. Pulling yourself back up to peer over the marquee’s edge, you saw Alastor in his full demon glory, somehow even grander than at Mimzy’s. He skewered and tore apart the sinners with his usual sadistic flair and relish. He wasn’t eating them this time and you were almost thankful for that except…he was taking his sweet time going through the rabble. Urggh. This guy and his sadism. You almost rolled your eyes at the display. It wasn’t until you really focused on him that you noticed his microphone, always close to the next tortured victim. The screams he tore from them were directly aimed at it. Was he…broadcasting!?

Your suspicions were confirmed when the last of the invaders died and he moved to your location. What the fuck was he thinking broadcasting the whole thing? You were flabbergasted by his behavior as this seemed like the most inappropriate time. Then again…this was the Radio Demon that you called back using his broadcast. The man was probably just being efficient.

He dripped gore as he walked towards you, power still buzzing around him as the broadcast continued. He should’ve looked scary. He did, objectively, with his tall silhouette dark against the red sky, the smell of blood thick in the air. His smile remained cheerful but you could just tell that he wasn’t happy. Those red eyes scanned over you and that feeling that the demon in front of you was angry intensified. They focused on your wounds, crinkling at the edges as his grin grew larger. He was…worried, you realized. A warmth pierced through your heart at his concern. How oddly sweet it was that he cared about you so much that he wasn’t high off of his recent kills. 

You reached out to him, wanting to reassure your friend that you were okay. Hurt, yes, but okay. He didn’t need to worry. 

The gesture seemed to work as the frustration in him eased out. The crinkling in his eyes now conveyed that usual dark amusement he always carried. With a small advertisement for the party in a couple of days (and you wondered what brave soul would come after an ad from his broadcast), he chirped his way over to you, all cheerful and delighted like he wasn’t covered in fresh guts. Or maybe he was delighted because he was a gory mess. You could have laughed at how cutely he was acting. Matching his energy, you signed off on his broadcast at his signal. 

“You made it.” A sigh of relief accompanied your greeting. 

“How could I not when you went through all that trouble to get me here? Hah! Using my own radio show to call me back. What a brilliant idea, darling. I was almost angry to hear your voice over the channel. How dare you take over the studio as you wish?” His laughter filled the air, looking unhinged with all the carnage dripping off him. For a moment, those red eyes switched to dials once more, a shock of static hitting the air like lightning, shooting fear back into you. But it was immediately washed away as he reached out a bloody gloved hand. With small beckoning gestures for your permission, he pulled you into a princess carry, holding your weight against his bloody self with ease. 

Unfortunately, getting moved around did cause your wounds to flare up again. Hissing, you bit your lip trying not to cry out as he moved you back down to where the others were.

“ Ynna/Alastor! ” The group exclaimed as you landed in the lobby. Angel was the most frantic as he approached, singed and cut up in places but moving fine.

“Seriously, toots? It’s been like, less than a week since ya woke up and now you’re all banged up again!” With a scolding glare, he ranted at you. Despite the anger in his voice, his eyes carefully checked you for injuries.

“Ooh Bang-ed! Guns! I get it. Good one Angel.” You teased him, knowing that the spider wouldn’t appreciate your puns. His eyes squinted at you, thrown by your cheery response, as you hoped he would be. Maybe if he cringed too much at your joke, he wouldn’t be as upset and worried as he looked. “I’m fine. I’m not almost dying this time at least. Is everyone else good?”

“You and your dumb shit.” He huffed, lower arms going to his hips as his upper set clenched into fists as if cursing god for your sense of humor. At least he didn’t look as angry. “Everyone’s fine. Well, mostly anyway.” Behind him, everyone else was dusting themselves off or slumped to the ground in exhaustion. Surprisingly, no one looked too beat up despite being in a gun fight, sporting surface wounds at most. “Ya sure got some luck, toots. You weren’t even on the ground and yet you still got shot.” 

“Totally worth it. Didn’t I hit that one guy in the huge nose?”

“Hah! Ya mean that one where you managed to lodge a whole ass rock up his nostril?” You two giggled as the tension in his face softened. The others joined in with some funny moments they recalled, making fun of the people they had just fought and even killed, which you felt surprisingly undisturbed by. You even complimented some of the cooler things you saw them do.

As the adrenaline wound down, you were left feeling exhausted, your body signaling to sleep off the pain radiating from your injuries while you regenerated slowly. Looking up at Alastor, you wanted to ask if he could bring you back quickly so you could rest. But the request died on your tongue. Your eyes focused on a dripping red spot on the demon’s otherwise flawless cheek, blood from one of the sinners he’d killed. All at once, your stomach squeezed and your throat felt impossibly dry. An intense pang of hunger crashed through your body, rocking through your core like an earthquake. 

It left you reeling and alert, eyes unable to stray from that shiny red spot. It looked so tempting, bringing about an intense craving to lick that droplet of blood from his face and maybe bite into his smooth cheek while you were at it. 

Wait. What?

A round of confusion hit your brain like a sledgehammer. Did you just think about eating Alastor!? No. Wait. What!? 

You breathed deeply, trying to stem the panic that followed. Why were you feeling like this? It had never happened before so why— Another wash of pain went through you from your wounds. Another wave of hunger followed. Dreadful realization lurched into focus in your head. Was this…was this your body’s way of reminding you that you had other means to recovery?

“You’re staring, darling. I know it’s quite a handsome face to look at but do try to keep your gawking to some degree of moderation.” His staticky voice snapped you back from your revelation, hunger subsiding a little as reason prevailed. Squashing those feelings with an almost manic desperation, you met Alastor’s teasing gaze. Smile. Relax. You couldn’t let the others know just what thoughts crossed your mind. 

“I was just thinking it was a good thing you decided to be a radio host. Your face was made for it.” With your best innocent smile, you teased back, self-directed panic and disgust beaten to the back of your mind for later pondering. 

“Oh! Cheeky girl. Is that any way to thank the knight in sparking static whose studio you broke into and started a broadcast from without permission?” The way he laughed said that he was convinced by your acting and the relief you felt from it brought back your calm and sanity. With determination, you let your eyes stray back to that bloody droplet and felt reassurance when no urge followed. Thank fuck. The smile on your face turned more teasing and genuine now that your weird episode was over.

“I think you would’ve been so disappointed if you came back and all the fighting was done. I did see you enjoying all that carnage.” 

“Oh you know I always do. But you really need to get it into your head not to do that again, darling. I won’t be so forgiving next time you trespass into my studio.” His eyes narrowed slightly but curved, amused. There was no bite behind his words, simply reminding you to respect his space. 

“Get a phone so I won’t have to.” 

“Nev—“

“Get a room if you two wanna keep flirtin’.”

You turned your head back to look at Angel, trying to come up with something clever to say but the sudden shift jerked your shoulder. You hissed out a curse that put a stop to the lighthearted atmosphere. 

“Here. I’ll get her cleaned up.” Charlie stepped up, now seeing the extent of your wounds. Shifting your weight to make moving to Charlie easier, the hands holding you squeezed lightly, halting your movements and keeping you in place against a warm, if bloody, chest. The deer demon shook his head at the princess.

“No no. I’ll handle this, my dear.” You felt your body sway slightly as he turned away from her. “I’ll go ahead and bring Ynna to get treated. The others also need some tending to and I’m sure they’d appreciate your assistance as well, more than mine at least.”

“Alright? Let us know if you need anything.” Alastor’s insistence on taking care of you himself was odd, a thing everyone in the lobby noted. The man wasn’t exactly known for caring for others except on occasion. And as nice as he was to you, he didn’t extend the same fondness to everyone else, an observation that made you feel a little sad for his isolation but also a little happy. When was the last time you were so obviously favored by someone?

Charlie and Angel turned back around, headed towards the bar where Husk was already nursing a drink, looking tired and just done for the day. 

After the cold of the shadow land disappeared, you found yourself in an unfamiliar bathroom. It was rather simple and similar to your own except for the black and white checkered tiles and vividly red walls that somehow made it feel more opulent despite having the same fixtures. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my suite. I’m more familiar with what materials I have here.” As he spoke, a shadow brought a stool from the main room and you were carefully placed on it. The dark form shifted and settled next to the demon and it was then that you realized this was his shadow and not some minion. It cackled silently behind him, not unlike when Alastor enjoyed a particular kill.

The man began to rummage through his supplies, bringing bandages, wipes, scissors and forceps out. It occurred to you that it was strange for someone who didn’t get injured to have them at hand but then again…if he dabbled in blood magic…You weren’t sure you wanted to know why he had so many medical supplies, if only for the benefit of your mental health, but images came into your mind unbidden. Seeing Alastor’s carnage had certainly broadened your imagination, unfortunately.

“It’s fine. Thanks for helping me and you know, thanks for coming when I called. I’m sorry for trespassing into your studio.” The man nonchalantly waved off your apology, still smiling, almost humming as he puttered around to get what he needed. 

“Oh that was probably the most unique way anyone’s summoned me in the past fifty or so years. I knew that if you were desperate enough to risk my wrath then it had to have something interesting. And what entertainment it was! Action! Camaraderie! A bit of drama too if we were to count that one sobbing sop crying for his mother. I’m sure my dear listeners just loved the deviation. Variety keeps things fresh, after all. You, my darling, might even receive some fan mail for it.” 

The state of his clothing started to bother him as he shook off some bits and pieces of dead sinners. You watched him unbuttoning his overcoat. Alastor tossed his blood-soaked garment into the tub where it landed with a juicy spat, followed by his equally bloody gloves. He rolled up the sleeves of his button down revealing lean blackened forearms that faded to gray before his elbows. His ungloved hands were equally black with shiny red claws that made his already long fingers look even longer. 

Leaning against the sink, he washed his hands and face, getting as much gunk off himself like a surgeon preparing for an operation. 

“You get fan mail?”

“Oh yes. My tastes for carnage and suffering aren’t unique, just my ability to share it for all of Hell to hear.” A red-clawed hand flippantly gestured as he threw a roguish smirk at you, proud of his accomplishments and notoriety. What a menace, you mentally rolled your eyes at him fondly.

As he combed most of the muck from his head, it occurred to you that you’d never seen the demon show this much skin before. Your eyes roamed over his form. He was definitely like a deer, slender and lithe with a refined bone structure belying his terrifying strength.

With his blackened forearms now clean, you could see a few prominent veins rising beneath the skin over toned muscle. Under the light of the two Tiffany glass sconces, numerous silvery scars glimmered against his dark skin, telling stories of brutality and roughness usually hidden by his sophisticated appearance. Without his coat, you could better see the outline of his shoulders, their broad expanse tapering to a skinny waist, his suspenders forming a nice line for the eye to follow down. 

He’d always looked handsome to you but something about how he looked right now made you feel like turning away. How to describe it? Ah, scandalous. It felt a little scandalous seeing him so casual, such a difference from his prim and proper demeanor. His overall impression was just different and you were definitely staring. You should stop. He even has a tail. Wow, that’s cute. Stop!

Unable to bear looking at him without ogling, you focused on what he was doing instead. You idly watched as he prepared, his hands placing all the tools he needed into a neat and organized line before coming to stand in front of you with his scissors. 

“I’ll have to cut off your clothing to treat your wounds, darling. Hope you don’t mind.” The way he grinned down at you with those scissors. That was the Al you were used to, all creepy smiles and polite speeches. He really did love his theatrics.

“Okay.” You weakly smiled at him, the throbbing of your wounds constantly draining your energy.

Alastor started with your shoulder, carefully snipping around the wound. You held your breath, bracing yourself against the uncomfortable and possibly painful feeling of the blood-soaked cloth being peeled away. It did sting, a hiss leaving you as the sticky blood glued the fabric to your skin, but Alastor was attentive, making sure not to agitate more than necessary. Shivers ran down your spine as the cool metal faintly brushed against your skin along with Alastor’s claws. You wondered which one was sharper.

As your shirt was cut away leaving you in only your bra, you felt a smidge self-conscious. Just a little though. Since Alastor always acted a gentleman, you felt safe around him despite being exposed. He wouldn’t do something as rude as staring at your body. Which made you feel rather bad for ogling him earlier. 

“Seems the bullet traveled clean through and you only need a few stitches.” You could feel his gaze staring pointedly at your wound, shivers sprouting along your back where you thought his eyes might have landed causing you to flinch when they moved back to your injury. Pain…followed by hunger. Oh shit. Was every injury going to be like this now? With your body urging you to eat another demon to replenish your energy? You’re insane, Ynna. You were seriously going insane.  You felt like crying on the inside.

Unaware of your turmoil, Alastor moved on to cut off your pant leg from the knee down. He knelt on the ground in front of you, focused and poised as he held your leg steady against the sharp scissors. Mentally, you were fighting the urge to bite his ears. You didn’t think that transgression would end with you just getting tossed out of his suite this time. 

As the scrap cloth was tossed into the tub with the other bloody clothes, you were thankfully distracted from hunger pangs by the oozing holes in your legs. The bullets barely missed your shin bone as they embedded into your flesh. Having never been shot before, the wounds were gruesomely novel. Blood dripped in sleek crimson rivulets down your hoofed leg and onto the once pristine bathroom floor. It was pretty, in a tragic way.

Only after a few moments of watching did you realize Alastor was also staring at your leg, just as transfixed by the image. His hands held your calf perfectly still, skin warm in the cool air of the room. What was he thinking about? 

Alastor’s POV

He was feeling admittedly heroic, having saved the day and answered a damsel’s call. How awful. Heroism wasn’t his style, not since dropping into Hell, but alas, his goat needed help. What else could he, as her deer friend, do but answer her call? It was a good thing he did otherwise he might have been holding a corpse instead of an injured Ynna. 

Despite how he dripped in the blood of those ignorant grunts, she leaned against his chest, not minding how it seeped onto her. A bit poetic, wasn’t it? That she was stained with the blood of those who died because she called upon he who would shed it in the most painful way possible. When viewed in that lense, he supposed this particular brand of heroics did suit his taste. It certainly tickled something in his brain that she was unperturbed by his carnage or her near death experience, settling comfortably against him with a smile on her face like she wasn’t bleeding in three places. She even tried to wave away the worries of their little group despite the painful tears she’d cried earlier from her wounds. For all her physical weaknesses, her mental fortitude was something to be admired.

Speaking of wounds, he wondered if he could offer her another potion or maybe an actual meal to help her boost her energies. How he longed to feel those thrills again as he hadn’t been able to in the past few days. The more their relationship bloomed, the more his conscience weighed on his actions, especially as he’d been able to tease and prod her about her condition and heard from her directly how much she hated the idea of consuming demon flesh. He’d only been able to feed her twice, when his greed had overpowered his reason. Both times, he’d suffered and delighted in his guilty pleasure at her unknowing expense.

But if an opportunity presented itself…

He caught her staring at him, an unreadable look in her eyes, too convoluted with feelings for him to discern anything other than his reflection in them. She looked stupid, as if her brain had stopped working altogether. And yet, her wide eyed stare observed him as if to devour his very being, sending a thrill like lightning through his body. He would’ve frozen under their intensity had he not read a bit of want and admiration in those depths. 

And he latched on to those fleeting feelings with voracious eagerness, unwilling to let them disappear from her eyes while they still held his image.

“You’re staring, darling. I know it’s quite a handsome face to look at but do try to keep your gawking to some degree of moderation.” With a smile that he knew sent many others weak in the knees, he delivered his line with just the perfect blend of haughtiness and confidence. Let it stoke those tiny sparks of desire in her gaze into something more. Even just a minuscule little bit more. But he was sorely disappointed. Whatever trance she was under dissipated leaving only her usual friendliness, completely unaffected by him. Vexing little thing.

And she had the gall to tease him. Hah! If he hadn’t found her so amusing, he might have just flung her to the ground for that quip. Fortunately for her, he was fond of her and he was a man that took great care of things he enjoyed.

Though…

When he’d realized that he would need to cut off the woman’s clothing, he felt a little sorry for her. For decency’s sake, maybe he should have let Charlie take over dressing her wounds. While he didn’t care as he’d seen and dismembered countless bodies before, it occurred to him that maybe Ynna wouldn’t feel comfortable showing that much skin to a man. Not that he’d let her leave now. She was nearing her limit and primed to collapse if left untreated.

Bit by bit, her smooth skin was revealed as he cut away at her shirt. Blood coated the expanse of her back as it dripped slowly from the open wound. It looked like the bullet had gone cleanly through. He could stitch her back up in no time though the effort would be moot if he could offer her some flesh or blood after he’d gotten her cleaned up. 

He moved her hair away from the injured area, eyes inevitably following where his hand went. Her neck was tilted to the side to grant him better access for his treatment. Except for the occasional shiver, she remained perfectly still, completely trusting him as he moved about her with a blade. The glint of the scissors flashed his eyes.

His senses honed in on the demoness. A low heat in his belly ignited, creeping up his chest in little crackles of warmth. A buzz started in his mind anew. The smell of her blood was heady and enticing now that it was allowed to permeate this smaller secluded space. She let herself be so vulnerable before him. If he so wished it, he could devour her in one gulp and she wouldn’t be any wiser as she laid to rest in his belly, safe and hidden. Beside him, his shadow grinned, making chomping motions as even it found her delightful.

His thoughts were cut off by a sharp quiet hiss as she moved her injured shoulder. Right. Other wounds needed tending to.

Kneeling down in front of her, he carefully placed her injured leg on his thigh. After taking off her shoe and cutting off the pant leg, he was left staring at a hoofed leg dripping blood onto his bathroom tile. Two small holes cried lovely crimson tears down the line of her shin. 

For a moment, he thought about following those delicate trails with his tongue, tasting the salt on her skin and the iron in her blood. That flame in his belly grew hungry at the thought. Maybe he could just indulge himself a little. It would be fair. She’d gotten to taste him multiple times now. If he could make it painless for her, would she let him dig those bullets out with his teeth? 

“You okay there, Al? You look like you want to take a bite.” She was curiously watching him from her seat, small joking smile on her face. The buzzing in his head grew louder as his eyes strayed to the newly exposed skin of her torso, marred only by bloody splotches, some of them from his victims.

“Oh I’m certainly tempted, dear. You look like you’d make a delectable meal.” He grinned at her, all teeth and teasing. The woman only graced him with a long exhale through her nose, exasperated at his response as her smile turned sarcastic. It was fantastic how she’d gotten used to his casual mentions of cannibalism now. He was almost certain she knew that he was mostly serious. 

“Please don’t. I'd like to not have to regrow a whole leg, thank you very much.”

“Just a nibble?” 

“I have nothing to spare, Al.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes at him. Grabbing the remnants of her shirt, he twisted the fabric into a thick rope and handed it to her. “You’ll want to bite down on that as I take the bullets out. It will hurt.”

Doing as instructed, those eyes turned nervous as she anticipated the oncoming pain. Little hands gripped the sides of her chair as she nodded, ready.

Looking back at the task at hand, he pushed down the urge to bite the delicate leg and instead took the cleaned forceps from his counter. Carefully, he dug into the wound, looking for the object lodged within. The leg in his grasp flinched as he found the offending thing and pulled it out as best he could. A strangled gasp and a series of heavy breaths from above told him of how much pain she was in. Poor dear. He continued, trying not to enjoy her pain. That would be rude to his friend.

Once he’d succeeded in pulling the first bullet out, he placed it on the counter.

“There there, darling.” His thumb rubbed light soothing circles on her ankle. “One more and we can wrap this up.” 

The second bullet was even more painful for her, having lodged deeper than the first. He took a knife, giving the woman a warning before cutting into the wound to have a better vantage to pull the object out. Her gasps and pained cries carried through the bathroom despite the cloth muffling them. The sound of claws scraping against wood reached his ears causing him to glance at her white-knuckled grip on the stool. 

Click

The buzzing in his head grew incessantly distracting, only overshadowed by the delicate cries of the woman in front of him. The smell of blood. The warm flesh in his hand. The pain he was causing. All factors he enjoyed when satiating his bloodlust but at this moment, the nature of his pleasure was of a different kind. The kind only she had ever elicited in him. 

Conflicting feelings swirled in him, wanting to soothe and hurt her at the same time. Goosebumps rose on his arms at a particularly loud scream, the sound bouncing off the walls and through his skull. His skin felt sensitive, electricity living just beneath the surface. He moved quickly. If he let himself feel more, he might be tempted to prolong this whole situation. He couldn’t do that to her, wouldn’t let himself do that to her. 

Finally, the last bullet was out, falling to the floor as he almost dropped the forceps from the guttural cry the woman in front of him made, the sound ripping through him like he’d been the one suffering instead.

“Darling. Sshhh. It’s okay. I’ve gotten them out.” Still kneeling, he glanced up at her. Now he could offer a bite of himself for her to heal with. She was likely to deny him (and be very angry) but he would risk her displeasure if it would stop her pain.

Whatever he was planning to say was knocked out of him at the sight of her. Tears ran down her face, cheeks flushed from the effort not to flinch or jerk in his hold. Her breathing was labored, heavy as she gulped air through her nose, mouth still biting hard into the cloth as he’d instructed. But the most captivating sight were her eyes, half-lidded with pain but glowing with unyielding trust as they met his.

All at once, those pesky reactions in him soared high until it felt like they would explode his chest open. 

Then they quieted down. 

What did his mother do again when he got hurt?

“Oh, darling.” Still holding her gaze, he placed a gentle kiss below her knee. Slowly. Unintrusively. A comfort for all she endured. “It’s okay. You did well holding on despite how much it must’ve hurt.” Praise and affirmation, delivered in a soothing manner. A small sob followed and a fresh round of tears spilled from her eyes, running down her already wet cheeks. 

So weak. So vulnerable. So pitiful, his darling.

He stood up. Reaching out to her, the woman practically leaned into his touch, seeking anything to alleviate her suffering. He offered it without hesitation. With one hand behind her head, gently tilting it towards him and the other coaxing her to let go of the gag, he placed a gentle peck on her forehead. “You’re alright, dear.”

“…uurgh…I thought I was gonna faint.” Letting go of the tension she held, her head fell to rest her forehead on his shoulder. His hand went to her back, rubbing circles absentmindedly as he waited for her to regain her strength. Her bare skin felt comforting against his palm, soothing his own frazzled state of being with its heat. He could feel a few of her tears seeping through his shirt as her warm breaths puffed against his chest. 

All was quiet except for her breathing. Even the buzzing in his head was silent in reverence of this moment.

Just the two of them in a comforting hold.

.

.

.

.

It was all so very intimate that his hackles were beginning to rise the more he thought about it. A few more seconds. He’d give them a few more seconds of this…softness or else he might do something silly. Like bite her out of spite.

.

.

.

.

—

Once she managed to get sufficiently cleaned and bandaged up, he brought her to her room. As soon as she settled into her little mountain, she fell asleep, exhaustion taking its toll on her but not before mumbling a small thank you for his services. Sweet creature. Far too sweet.

Returning to his bathroom, he ordered his shadow minions to clean up everything. Already used to cleaning up worse messes than a few blood splattered floors, the dark minions did as they were told with efficiency. Stripping out of his clothing, he moved to the shower to freshen up after the whole ordeal with Ynna. It somehow felt like he’d fought a whole army rather than a small group of hirelings with the mental toll she’d put him through. 

Stopping by the counter, the bloody bullets he’d pulled out caught his attention. They sparkled in the dim light, almost as if they were calling to him. Hmmph. Tempting little things.

Without much thought, he gave in and tossed both scraps into his mouth, immediately savoring the metallic tang of blood and bitter gunpowder that spread around his tongue. Delicious. 

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

The sound of knocking on your bedroom door woke you up from your sleep. You blearily observed the aches and pains of your body, particularly where you’d been shot. A quick glance at your shoulder showed that the wound had stopped bleeding. Unfortunately, you’d been too exhausted and in pain to put on another shirt after Alastor had finished bandaging you up after deftly stitching your wounds closed.

Thinking of the Radio Demon, you blushed as you remembered his gentle comforting after the most painful experience you’d ever felt. The constant shooting pain of having someone dig into your leg to pull out a bullet had somehow been worse than a broken neck. At least, you could faint while you were suffocating but you couldn’t do that while someone was performing minor surgery on you without anesthesia. Not unless you wanted to risk unconsciously reacting to the pain. Then, at the end of that excruciating event, your usually very sadistic friend had gone out of his way to just hold you while you got yourself back together. 

Shit. He even kissed your leg and forehead. It was so sweet. How were you supposed to react to that now that you were less pain-addled and drained? You tried to think back on those events to see if you could glean any clue on how to best react to Alastor once you saw him again.

knock knock knock

“Who is it?” In your fluster, you forgot that someone was at the door.

“It’s Angel. Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

The spider stepped in, looking a little rough despite having cleaned himself up after the fight. His eyes were red and he exuded an exhaustion that rivaled his rougher days after work. He closed the door behind him and just stood there, eyes trailing over your bandages. You recognized that look, guilt, shyness and sadness blending into a stoic expression.

“Hey, can you come over here?” Patting your bedside, you initiated the conversation. The spider moved hesitantly, taking a little bit of coaxing before he sat down next to you but still farther away than you’d have liked. He remained quiet, face blank as he just looked at your body. From this distance, the smell of alcohol wafted from him, mixing with the sweet warm notes of his perfume, like many a sweet and sad night at Husk’s bar. It looked like tonight would be a sad one.

“Are you okay?” / “Fucking shit, Ynna.”

At the same moment you tried to prompt him, he spoke, despair and frustration in his tone, immediately shutting you up in hopes that he would continue.

“Me? You’re askin’ about me when you’re back on bed rest again? Fuckin’ Hell Ynna. Why’d you join the fight? You shoulda hid like I told ya to. Now, look at ya!” With all his arms out, he gestured wildly, voice cracking just a little as he became more upset. Every glance at your wounds embittered the line of his mouth, each sweeping look giving you the urge to cover up to stop his self-torment. But that wouldn’t change the reality of your state so instead, you wanted to soothe his worries.

“You’re right. I ate a little bit more than I could chew trying to help but I couldn’t just let you guys take care of them without doing anything. They were looking for me. It’s my fault y’all ended up in that situation.” With a gentle voice, you went to touch one of his hands but he caught yours instead, abruptly stopping you from going any closer.

“No it’s my fault.” The spider couldn’t truly be thinking that he was the source of all your pain, could he? The way he refused to meet your eyes said it was so.

“What do you mean? They were looking for me?”

“No.” He shook his head, leaning away as he let go. He needed space, his feelings threatening to suffocate him, but the way he shook gave the impression that he thought you’d get hurt just by touching him. “I recognized some of ‘em. They were Valentino’s goons. He probably sent them over to rough ya up after what happened last time.”

“Oh come on. He’s an Overlord. He can’t be that stupid to attack the Princess of Hell’s hotel. Not to mention, Al is also guarding the place. Didn’t he turn tail as soon as Al kicked his ass before?” It would honestly be baffling for an Overlord to overstep so much. As far as you knew, the Radio Demon ranked pretty highly among the current Overlords. At the very least, the notoriety of the Vees needed three of them to match up to one Alastor.

“Valentino’s vicious, toots. He ain’t exactly the smartest guy out there and he’s a violent psychopath. He would totally send his grunts to beat ya up to make a point, to you and…me. I’m surprised he didn’t come himself if he was so mad.” His face crinkled in distaste, remembering some incidents with his boss that backed up his statement. Not that you doubted him. You’d seen the man yourself so you believed his word.

“Well, did you tell Charlie?” Neither you nor the spider could do anything against an Overlord but you thought the princess could. She was sure to already be trying to figure out why someone attacked the hotel.

“I— No.”

“Why not? She’d totally go over there and teach Valentino a lesson.”

“That’s just it, toots. I don’t wanna see any of you get hurt. Charlie can give a mean lecture but she ain’t violent, at least, not in a way that would actually stop Val. Who knows what sorta things he would do to her if she went storming up to his place again? It was bad enough last time when I barely got her to leave before he blew a fuse.”

While Charlie was too sweet for her own good, you really doubted she would let this slide. Unless you had the power structure of Hell wrong, she would definitely be able to take care of one, maybe even all three, of the Vees if she wanted to. “But Angel—“

“NO!” You startled as he yelled, slamming his hands onto your mattress in anger, six eyes opening at the force of his desperation. Desperate for you to understand.

He’d never raised his voice at you before, not in a way meant to cow you into submission like that. Remorse immediately made its way onto his face, a deep sadness reflecting on his eyes that just…broke your heart for him. “Shit—I…I’m sorry. But no. I—I can’t let her go there. He’d rip her to shreds, lay his filthy fuckin’ hands on her and—and” Whatever scenarios he thought of in his head choked him in fear, breaths strangled by self-induced panic.

“Angel. Angel—!” You needed to hold him. It felt like he would shatter into pieces if you didn’t. Reaching for him again, he thankfully didn’t stop you this time. You pulled the spider to you. A pang shook your heart seeing him like this. He was a strong one, always hiding his problems but here he was, looking like his world was collapsing. When he didn’t budge, you tugged on even harder. “Come on. Come here. Please.” Your voice almost cracked with how constricted your throat felt as you tried to stop yourself from crying for him.

“Ynna, it’s killing me to see ya like this. This is all my fault. I can handle Val. I’m used to dealin’ with him but you…” His voice croaked, wet with tears he couldn’t shed as he looked and looked at you, your shoulders, your legs, your still bloody bra that you had yet to change out of. “You shouldn’t have ever gotten hurt. You shouldn’t have ever gotten involved. What if he keeps comin’ after ya? What if next time, it’s when you’re out by yourself? There are worse things he can do to you than kill you, Ynna. I don’t want that to happen to you.” His voice cracked as if he were begging, begging to some higher power that the worst would never happen, hands in prayer as he cupped your face. As if looking into your eyes would help you understand the danger.

“You shouldn’t be friends with me. I can tell Val that you stayed away cuz you learned your lesson and maybe he’ll back off.” Those mismatched eyes strained to let you know his worries. And you did understand that there were dangers you couldn’t even begin to imagine, horrors you couldn’t think of because you lacked the knowledge and experience that the spider had (and oh how you wished he didn’t have them). But how could you ever abandon him, when he was willing to be alone to keep you safe?

“No. Don’t do that Angel. Please. Don’t tell me that I fought this hard and got hurt just to lose my friend to some piece of shit overgrown mothman.” You wouldn’t have it. Absolutely not.

“Ynna—“ With all your strength, you managed to pull the spider. He toppled onto your stomach and oh did it hurt your injuries, tugging on the stitches Alastor had expertly sewed, but you endured. Running your fingers through his hair, you tried to soothe the distressed man. He froze, uncertain as you continued, fingertips gently grazing down his scalp. Eventually, he relaxed. Wrapping two sets of arms carefully around you, he snuggled into your bare stomach.

“I will storm up the Vee’s tower myself if you isolate yourself thinking it’ll help. It won’t.” You tried to turn his face towards you. Stroking your thumb under his left three eyes, you spoke softly. “I’d never stop being your friend, Angel.”

“Shit. Ynna. The things he can do…what if you end up hurt all the time? You’re super squishy, babe. Can’t even throw a punch to save your life.” The fuzz of his fluff tickled your stomach, a giggle making its way passed your lips. Or maybe that was the elation from seeing him come back to himself from the brink of a breakdown.

“Then teach me how. I know we’re working on redemption but who knows how long that’s gonna take? I’m sure Charlie and Vaggie wouldn’t mind if you teach me some ways to defend myself. And…” You hesitated, unsure if and how much you wanted to share with the spider but you felt that it would reassure him some to know. “...I recently found out some powers I have so…I’m not as helpless anymore.” 

“Powers? What do you mean powers? Like, did ya get anything more than just being a goat when ya spawned in Hell? What is it?” He perked up at the mention of it, curiosity and interest replacing his prior anguish.

“Uhh…it’s…I’m not really proud of it so I’d rather not say. But it does come in handy if I’m in trouble.” You debated whether to share your…vampirism? Parasitism? You weren’t even sure what to call your brand of cannibalism. Maybe he would understand and not give you a hard time about it. But you didn’t even want to use that power so why burden him with specifics? What if he was like Alastor and just offered you a bite since he was feeling guilty? You didn’t want that.

“Don’t tell me you’re like a succubus or something. If it was, ya know I wouldn’t judge. Heck, I’d even offer to help ya. Girls aren’t my thing but I’ll make an exception for ya, toots. I also know a lot of people if ya have a type.” An impish grin spread on his face. See! What was with your friends offering you such intimate help so casually? Though, you felt blessed to have them. The feeling settled warmly in your chest, reinforcing your need to protect them, even from yourself if needed.

“No. Not that kinda ability. But definitely not conventional. I really don’t like it but it’s…something.” Self-loathing creeped into your voice and you didn’t hold it back. Hell really knew how to fuck with its sinners.

“That bad, huh?” The small mirth in his eyes that came as he tried to guess your abilities faded away at your tone. He understood. There were just some things…you never wanted for yourself but were stuck with. He had those same pains too.

“Yep.” With a popping P, the conservation went into silence, both of you lost in thought. His arms around your middle shifted, reminding you of why he was here. Clearing your throat, the sound brought him out of his musings. With a small smile that you hoped was reassuring, you carded your hand through his hair once more. 

“Hey…so, no more saying this is your fault. It’s Valentino’s. He sent them here and one day, we’re gonna get him back for it. You can teach me how to kick ass in the meantime.” The idea of you actually learning how to fight brought giggles to your mouths, a warm atmosphere replacing the tension. It looked pretty ridiculous imagining your softy self throwing a punch. 

“Should we let Charlie know they were with Valentino?” As the giggling died down, you decided to ask him. 

“Uuurggh. I really don’t want any of ya getting involved with him but he did damage her property and shit so I guess we should.” His breath tickled your belly as he let out a sigh, the arms around you squeezing tighter. “At least, I can get her out of there if she can’t handle him.” 

“…If that happens, will he hurt you more?” You had no illusions that any retaliation would effectively end Valentino’s violence. Against you maybe, but Angel would still be vulnerable and this thought quelled your need to punch the pimp.

“Babes, don’t worry about me. I can handle it. And it ain’t my place to stop Charlie from getting her revenge.” A bit of his fake bravado shined through his answer but along with it was a genuine confidence in himself. He would be fine. And if he wasn’t, you and the others would make sure he would be. You cursed Valentino anew in your head as you continued to pet Angel’s hair, eventually falling back to sleep while debating which weapon you should learn and how to convince Vaggie to let you have one.

Alastor’s POV

His shadow reported a surprising find when it returned from investigating the bodies. From the photo in the leader’s wallet, he could guess exactly what had happened and why the sharks had come to the hotel looking for Ynna specifically. Though it was still a theory.

“I recognize these men as Valentino’s. Ynna and I happened to run into some of their friends on the day we went to invite Mimzy to perform.” For now, he shared this tidbit with Charlie. Maybe she would finally let him deal with the moth in the name of the hotel.

“Did anything happen that day? Why would they be after her?” The princess looked up from the line of dead bodies, hands bloodied anew in her cleaning efforts.

“Oh, just a little scuffle that I took care of. Why they were after her, I’m not certain but it wouldn’t be the first time that reprobate hurt her.” 

“That slimy shithead motherfucker. As if last time wasn’t enough already, he had to go and send his goon squad here too.” Vaggie manifested her spear, thirsty for the blood of the scoundrel. Perfect. He would maybe let her stab the scum once for agreeing with him.

“We can’t go rushing in there like last time. He might take it out on Angel again. Plus, we still have the party. Should we just cancel it?” Trying to placate her girlfriend, the princess brought up her concerns. A deep exhaustion settled into her fair features, disappointment darkening her bright eyes.

“I think that’s a terrible idea. Think of all the guests you would disappoint and the damage the hotel’s already precarious reputation would take.” His brows drew down in a scowl at the suggestion. She wasn’t wrong in assuming that any retaliation from them would result in increased hardships for the spider but that was the nature of his deal. Her main concern should be keeping their business safe and running, as was her role as proprietress. For his part, the thought that some insignificant scum could cause a change of plans was simply insulting. “Canceling the party would be the same as giving in to the Vee’s terrorism.” 

“But the place is wrecked, Al. We’re not gonna be able to fix this up in time.” The princess walked across the rubble of the foyer, the group’s preparations rendered futile with streamers turned to trash and tables and chairs broken. But it was nothing he couldn’t fix.

“If you want it to go on as planned, all you need to do is ask, Charlie, my dear.” Saddling up to her side, he smiled, offering her his most disarming and comforting one. The princess turned her wide hopeful eyes up at him. The party had been something she’d poured her heart and hopes into, something she’d desperately thought would aid her endeavors as her hopes and dreams still hadn’t taken (angelic) wing. Something she might be desperate enough to make a deal over.

“Could you really fix it, Al?” Her sweet voice grew small as if she didn’t dare to hope.

“But of course, my de—“

“If this is one of your attempts to get her to make a deal with you, Alastor, I swear to her grandfather, I will end you.” And the opportunity was gone. It really was such a bother to have the woman around to keep warning Charlie.

“Oh you can certainly try, my dear.” He grinned wider at the moth, not letting go of his gracious air. She bristled, a pathetic snarl on her lips, a Spanish curse at the tip of her tongue.

“Stop it, both of you. And Al, I’d love for the party to go on as scheduled if you’re able to fix up the hotel by that time but if you aren’t, then I’m okay with postponing it or canceling it altogether.” Hands on her girlfriend’s shoulders, Charlie gave her answer. Oh well. He had no intention of letting the event fall through either way, not after he’d taken the time to advertise it. 

“Then, I’ll have things ready by that evening. No need to worry. In the meantime, why don’t you look into this incident a bit more? I would like to bring this case over to the perpetrator after we hold our event.” 

Once the women left, he summoned his legion of shadows to fix up the place. It would take a little longer than he’d prefer as the minions needed to take more care in making sure everything was back to the way it was but things would be restored as they should be, made even better now that he was taking a more active part in the presentation of the event. 

Seeing the line of dead bodies getting in the way, he summoned eldritch flames to eat away at them. The green fires burned through the bodies in an instant, leaving only rancid fumes in their place. Seeing all the holes in the windows and wall, the smell would be gone soon enough. With the repairs underway, there was nothing left for him to do in the lobby so he thought it best to check on his dear darling one last time before retiring for the evening.

He hummed a little melody as he walked the familiar path to her room. It had taken a few hours and a taste of blood and gunpowder for him to settle down after their earlier…sweetness. It was startlingly new to him how he cared for her comfort and well-being, to the point that even his constant scheming had quieted. Well, maybe not new. Unpracticed, more like. Not since his beloved mother had passed on to heavenly arms.

But this was a good thing. How could it not be when he was determined to keep her around in the future? He had worried that keeping her favor would require more attentiveness than he could provide, that the centuries would wear on and the effort to put on a more caring facade would eventually dampen the kick he got from her. But their relationship was evolving into something not just palatable but also, pleasant and easy. 

She called him and he answered with a smile. He showed her his more unsavory sides and she shrugged it off with a smile. Not something he could have envisioned weeks ago when this started but the woman he thought was a coward turned out to save all her courage and resilience for those important to her. He would have thought it pathetic had he not been one of those important people. Maybe even the most important given today’s events. He felt pleased that she called him in her hour of need. Though he did need to find a better way for her to contact him in the future. 

Sensing the quiet air in her room, he didn’t bother with the door, instead directly shadowing in for a quick look to make sure that she was well before going off to his suite. He expected to see her, still dozing peacefully in her little mountain of pillows and blankets, safe and warm in recovery. And she was, with the addition of one Angel Dust. In her bed.

His entire body froze at the sight, eyes intently taking it in.

Ynna, with one hand on the porn actor’s head, slept peacefully. Her body tilted slightly to make room for the taller demon. Angel Dust slept on her bare stomach, many arms wrapped around his goat as he curled around her, careful to avoid her wounds. 

She’d moved to the side to make room for the other man. He’d been welcomed to cuddle next to her.

Static escaped his body causing the lights to flicker on and off.

It didn’t look like anything inappropriate had happened between the two. From the slight redness around the spider’s eyes, it had most likely been just that he had cried to her about something. Likely blaming himself for letting her get hurt like he had before. As if her safety was his responsibility. He scoffed.

It shouldn’t surprise him that the two friends would be in such a position. They were very close and touch was a normality in their friendship. A hug, a nudge, leaning on each other. Nothing was wrong with this scene and yet…

His cheek rested on her warm belly, gloved fingertips brushing lightly against the rarely exposed skin. He had no doubt that the spider would have wrapped himself more around the woman had she not been injured. With the way her fingers delicately curled around pink and white fur, it appeared that she welcomed the contact.

Maybe even encouraged it.

He grit his teeth in an effort to restrain his leaking static. The urge to pluck up the man and fling him out the window to fall three stories down surged inside him, shadows licking the foot of her bed wanting to heed his wishes. There should be limits to how intimately she acted with the spider! Despite his preference for the same sex and incredibly effeminate appearance, he was still a man! Where was their sense of propriety!? Would she do this with any of her friends? Surely this must be an exception given that the porn actor was her closest confidant and companion—!

Click

More static escaped, green electricity shooting dangerously close to the sleeping man before he reigned it in. The shadows around the bed danced with the fluctuating emotions roiling in him, like black flames threatening to engulf the irritating scene like the dead bodies he’d just incinerated in the lobby. Really. Just as he thought he’d become her deerest companion.

What to do? It wouldn’t be a good look to wake them. Should he use his magic to bring the spider back to his own room? Should they question how it had happened, the occasional blackouts in the spider’s memory from his addictions could be blamed. They needn’t know that he’d done it, been witness to this moment and been so agitated by it.

It was decided then. With a snap of his fingers, the spider disappeared into a mass of darkness and was deposited none too gently into his own bed. With him gone, the air finally felt breathable, the constricting feeling of displeasure somewhat soothed as only he and his goat were left in her room. He smoothed non-existent wrinkles in his suit, smoothing his momentarily ruffled feathers with a few flicks of his wrist as he went to her side.

Upon closer inspection, her brows were slightly furrowed, mouth in a thin line. Not quite as peaceful of a sleep as he thought. The hand that had been in Angel Dust’s hair flexed as if searching for the now gone spider. His smile thinned at that. She must just be cold. As he adjusted the blanket around her to cover her more completely, the movement stirred her to consciousness.

“Alas…tor?” Emerging from sleep, she looked at him unfocused, still drowsy and even lolling her head around. He reached to cup her cheek, its softness leaning into his ungloved hand as she had earlier today, guiding her back to the land of the waking.

“Hello, darling. I didn’t mean to wake you from your rest.” 

“That’s okay. Have you seen Angel?” Her wide eyes sleepily swept across the room, looking for the spider.

“He was drinking with Husker earlier this evening.” His tone remained even as he moved just a bit closer to her, trying to bring her attention back to him by looming at her side. 

“Yeah. He dropped by but I guess he left. What are you doing here?” While asking the question, she pulled the blanket he’d placed on her tighter around her, burying herself in its warmth. Finally her attention was fully on him, a gesture that sent a buzz of delight through him, pulling his smile just a tad wider. He brushed a thumb against her cheek before pulling back.

“Just checking in on you before I retire for the evening.” With a helpful hand, he tucked the sheet carefully around her injured shoulder, a gesture that she gave him a grateful glance for. “Your wounds seem to be okay but it looked like you were having a nightmare.”

“Huh? Oh. It wasn’t anything too bad. I was just thinking about something and I guess it followed me to sleep.” 

“Seems like something rather important if it’s followed you to the realm of dreams. Come now, what seems to be troubling you?” As soon as he smelled a bit of information to be gotten, he’d felt giddy. He needed to take this chance to embed himself further into her confidence.

Taking a seat at the edge of her bed, he gave a small smile inviting her to confide her troubles in him. The goat looked at him, torn. Oh whatever could his darling be troubled by? How could he be the one to help her through it? His eyes immediately caught the small peak of her tongue wetting her lips, an innocent motion that sent a thrill through his body.

“I was thinking…of using my powers to heal up. I talked with Angel earlier and I thought…if things like this happened, like right now, I got shot and I can’t even move, I was thinking that I should take advantage of my powers and heal up really quick. That way, you all won’t have to worry about me.” Her talk with the spider had prompted her to think about the advantages of her physique. Did that mean that she’d let the spider know about it? It irritated him to think that the secret that only the two of them knew was now shared with others. However, that irritation was quickly swept away when she continued to ponder and fret. 

“But I still can’t get over the thought of eating other demons. Like, there’s no way I’d ever get redeemed if I actually do it, right?” Her face pinched in thought, her mouth mumbling soundlessly as she worked through her conundrum. Was she actually considering cannibalism seriously? It was almost too good to be true. Were his ears working correctly? Her expression remained introspective, clearly trying to make a decision. Not disgusted like she’d always been at the thought of eating demon flesh, but discomforted, uneasy, apprehensive…a plethora of words but NOT outright rejection.

Excitement jolted through him. Like a marquee lighting up for the evening, his body came alive at the thought of her possibly choosing to partake in demon flesh. It was perfect. He had been wanting to offer her something for this recent incident but could not think of the best way to deliver it. But if she asked for it herself…

His heart thudded loudly in his chest, goosebumps rising along his arms. What could he prepare quickly? Blood? Something from his forearm? His leg? Should he even cook or could he invite her to bite him directly? 

Shivers traveled down his spine at the prospect of her mouth anywhere near his skin, with the intention of ripping flesh. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t. I mean, it’s not an emergency. I mean, if I actually eat someone but if it was out of self-defense, that should still be okay, right?” She spoke at him, eyes unfocused as she debated with herself. Oh no. He had to stir her away from talking herself out of it. 

He chuckled, loud enough to catch her attention but not enough that she’d think he was laughing at her. He’d rather bust a gut laughing in glee but that was inappropriate at the moment. “Oh darling, if you truly wished to be heaven bound, you wouldn’t be contemplating sin just to appease your friend’s worries in the first place. That it’s even crossed your mind enough to torment you like this tells me that redemption isn’t your priority, your friends are. And the way you go about caring for them is in a rather…practical manner.” 

“Practical?” Those large eyes focused on him, curious about what he meant. A thrumming started in his gut, anticipation coiling. The threads of her reasoning were laid bare to him. He just needed to pull the right string.

“Yes. You’re the type who’s willing to use the tools at your disposal to achieve your goal, even if you suffer a little for it.” He grinned at her, no teeth, just mirth. Still letting her know that he enjoyed her struggle but also trying to give her advice, as a friend with his perspective and tastes would. “So all of this comes down to one question: is your moral suffering worth the guilt and worry that your friends are feeling right now?”

Her focused eyes dimmed a little, their stare turning wary and even slightly hateful. Practical was too polite of a word to describe her. She was reckless, really. Self-sacrificing to a fault. So the slight hate in her eyes as he presented a new scale for her to weigh her decision on was understandable. Because the answer was clear from the start. This people-pleasing woman with a bleeding heart for her friends would do anything for them, even tainting her own soul, so long as they cared for her the same. 

The anticipation was cooking him from the inside, shivers running all over his limbs as her eyes looked at him, trying to rebalance that scale that was already tipped to her downfall. With how much she struggled, he wondered if she would change her tune, deciding that a bit of comfort and convenience wasn’t worth the damage it would do to her psyche. If he looked closely enough, he could practically see her soul cry out in dismay. Internally, he scowled at that. She was being too dramatic. The answer was so simple if she just gave in—

“It’s only an option for you, darling. Just because it’s there doesn’t mean you have to use it. If it’s hurting you this much to even consider it, then don’t.” He found himself saying the complete opposite of where he’d hoped for her to go. 

All the coiling feelings in him froze as he processed what he’d said. He couldn’t even retract the statement as that tortured gaze cleared up, looking at him more hopeful and at ease as the storm clouds of doubt and despair blew away from her eyes. His tongue caught when she looked at him so sweetly.

“You really think so, Al?”

“Yes. I’m sure you’re familiar with the saying: ‘The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’ Don’t sacrifice more than what you could bear for others. If they cared for you just as much, they wouldn’t want to see you dredge yourself in sin for their sakes.” What was he saying? He couldn’t believe that he’d let the opportunity go. Why? Just because he cared about her didn’t mean that he could let go of what he desired of her! 

“Thanks Alastor.” He watched her gaze gradually shift until they were colored with his favorite emotions of hers, caring and sincere, evoking an image that he’d not thought of in a while.

“Anything.”  

Right. He’d almost forgotten, carried away by the bodily thrills he was chasing. What he wanted, in its highest form, was her devotion, free from coercion and soul-shattering torture. Her joy, her pain, her teeth grinding his bones to dust, whatever it was, so long as she gave it freely. Even better if she enjoyed it.

He could pester her, tease her, nudge her in whichever direction as he built their relationship but it would all be for naught if she became a shell of herself if he pushed her too far too quickly.

“No need to thank me, darling. When you do decide to indulge, I’d rather you enjoy it.”

“Why would you want me to enjoy eating other people?”

“Because I wouldn't want my dinner buddy being all sad. It would spoil the meal altogether and that would be such a waste.” He waved his hand as if that was the obvious answer. Good company made for a good dining experience. A foodie like her would also understand.

“Uuurgggh you’re so gross.” She made a gagging face followed by a bit of laughter. The evening ended with an exchange of good night’s. As he walked back to his suite, he couldn’t help but note that she didn’t deny that one day, she would partake.

Chapter Text

Alastor’s POV

The day of the party eventually came and with it, a flurry of useless worrying from Charlie. Really, the dear needed to calm down. He had it all under control with everything not only put back where it was but also improved. He’d told her as such but that did very little to lessen her nerves. Oh well. He was sure that once the people arrived, she would be her usual bright and happy self, wanting to befriend every wayward soul looking to have a good time that evening.

Banners were hung, a classy maroon color draped along the ceiling, highlighting a sparkling chandelier. He’d replaced the boring folding chairs and plastic tables with proper furnishings topped with simple white tablecloths and a small candle centerpiece. Across the bar was the main stage where the performers would play and just below it was a dance floor. Really, he’d put in quite the effort to fix things up after the scuffle two days ago. He was very pleased with the results.

The only thing that wasn’t completely fixed was his goat.

After Ynna expressed her desire to join the party, Charlie had gone out of her way to procure a wheelchair for her. The girls helped her get dressed before leaving for their own preparations and that left him waiting for her to finish getting ready. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to socializing this evening, darling? While I would miss having you around, it’d take all the fun out of the evening if your condition got worse.” 

“Oh I’ll be fine. The wounds are closed up so I just gotta be careful not to reopen them while moving around.” She fiddled with her hair, putting in a bit of effort to look nicer this evening. “It sucks that I can’t dance but at least I’ll still be able to hang around and chat with people. Besides, Charlie even got Razzle and Dazzle to escort me.” Hearing their names, the two minions poked their heads out of Ynna’s pile of pillows that they played in while the woman was dressing.

“If you do wish to dance tonight, I can grant that, you know.” He leaned his back against her vanity casually, a teasing smile on his face as he watched her debate which shade of lipstick to wear. Her eyes flitted up to him briefly before settling back onto the two tubes in her hand. A small shock of electricity sparked through his chest at the fleeting gaze, his smile easing into a more relaxed one at the delightful feeling. He really did adore those eyes of hers. He’d found himself wanting them to turn his way more often since Angel Dust, since another man, had been in her room.

“Are you gonna offer me another potion, Al?” The two tubes were raised in front of him for judgment and he plucked the color he thought suited her the most from her hand. When she reached to take it back from him, he simply wagged his index finger at her. Using the same finger, he tilted her chin up gently, forcing her to look at him and the lipstick he uncapped with his other hand.

Satisfaction buzzed warm and low in his chest when her initial weak resistance turned to acceptance, giving in to his whimsy comfortably as he offered to put it on for her. It wasn’t quite the right shade of red he wanted to see on her lips but her docile gaze up at him left him pleased and satisfied enough.

“You already sound opposed to the idea.” The lipstick brought a little bit more color to her face, giving it a lovely impression. So lovely, in fact, that he couldn’t help but squeeze her cheeks, an action that brought a giggle to her lips.

“You already do so much for me, Alastor.” Her warm gaze softened, a bit of guilt and confusion directing themselves at him, fueling his delight. “But that really is too much. I know you said that the idea of me being a cannibal too was fun for you but I really don’t get why you have to go that far. Why do you keep offering?”

“Well, darling. If the situation was reversed, wouldn’t you do the same for me?” Almost unconsciously, she murmured a ‘yes’, the sound small but truthful. So caring and loyal. He really did just want to eat her up and carry her fragile self with him wherever he went. But He shooed away those delectable thoughts for another time in favor of savoring her attention with a grin. “Then you already understand why, silly girl. It just so happens that I’d get more of a kick out of it than you would.” 

Her concerned stare bore deep into his, each second a sweet breeze fanning the warmth he was feeling. Finally, her face settled into a resigned yet happy expression, pulling back to sit properly in her wheelchair and check her face in the mirror.

“It’d make more sense to just take me to Cannibal Town than cut yourself up if what you wanted was to get me to, how did you put it, ‘discover the joys of your unique tastes’.” 

“It’s because I understand that my tastes aren’t your cup of tea that I’m offering. I have a theory that it’s more efficient for you to consume from higher ranking sinners with more power flowing through their flesh. More bang per bite, so to say.” They continued casually observing each other with Ynna left to ponder the excuse that he came up with. It was a brilliant theory that would hold some merit to experiment with but…he could hear a breaking of static from within himself. He’d devour all other sinners first before he let her even try.

“Theorizing about my powers?” For once, she navigated the conversation looking completely unbothered, a small joking smile on her lips. She signaled for the two minions to pull her wheelchair around, fully dressed and ready to depart. He beat them to it, grabbing the handles and pushing her along before the fluttering peons could.

“Someone has to, darling. Lucky for you, you have me around to think about all these little things for you since you still aren’t too keen to learn about them yourself. Isn’t it a comfort to know you weren’t spawned in Hell completely helpless, after all?”

“I mean, it can be super useful…but I don’t have to use it at all either, like you said.” She leaned back against her chair as he continued to push her down the hallway, showing a little impish smile on her face. She tilted her head far back to look up at him, the smooth column of her neck exposed just so. “Are you excited?”

She meant the party, of course, trying to change the subject to something lighter. But his eyes were more drawn to the sparkle in her eyes and the line of her throat. “Why, of course! Music, dancing and rubbing elbows with Hell’s lowest ranking scum. What’s not to be excited about?”

“Will people even show up? No offense, but I wouldn’t exactly feel stoked about a party the Radio Demon advertised in one of his broadcasts.”

“That’s because you aren’t desperate enough, darling.” As they arrived at the lounge, the twin lamb minions pushed open the doors, letting the blaring music and loud chatter they blocked through. A packed room of sinners of all shapes and sizes spread in front of them. “Free food and drinks will always get people to come around.”

“Ah. Just like in college.” A snort reached his ears as Ynna observed, eyes trailing over the new faces milling about their usually empty hotel. They made their way over to a table occupied by Niffty, Angel Dust and the snake with his henchmen, immediately getting absorbed in their chatter as they settled themselves in.

Nothing too interesting was happening at the table, the group’s interactions just the same as everyday though their eyes wandered to the new people in the room every now and then. 

“Never thought I’d see this joint poppin’. Feels like halfa the Pentagram’s in here.” Angel Dust took a sip of his cocktail, his second judging from the empty glass next to him. “You two need a drink? Husky’s pourin’ til 11.” Ynna, in curiosity, asked for a sip from the spider’s cup which the man gave easily enough. Her lips just avoided where Angel’s had been. For a miniscule moment, he heard a hiss in the dark, his shadow unhappy with the effortless closeness of the two as it had been since that time. He quieted the phantom as usual, unimpressed with its behavior. There really was no need to act so aggressive. He would eventually be the closest to his goat in time.

“Of course! Razzle, Dazzle, could you bring me to the bar?” Ynna cheered, her enthusiasm rising to match the energy of the room, which was to say, she was buzzing with excitement. Seeing her so lively despite being injured was heartening, easing an unknown tension that he had been holding. She would be fine this evening. She would have fun with her friends.

“No need. I can get those for us. What’s your poison, darling?” Seeing an opportunity, he stood and straightened out his coat. It was a good excuse to get away from the rather inane conversations they were having for a moment and he couldn’t possibly trouble the injured woman to get her own drink.

“Husk knows my usual. Thanks Al!” Already used to him doing things his way, his goat just smiled and gave her order. See, she so easily relied on him now for little things when she’d protest politely before.

Throwing her a playful bow, he went to fetch their drinks. Along the way, he spotted more than a few suspicious felons in the crowd, a bustling room their favorite place to hunt. He’ll have to keep an eye out and make sure things didn’t get overtly out of hand. Wouldn’t want his efforts to go to waste because some sinners couldn’t help themselves. 

“Husker, my good man!” The cat behind the counter spotted his approach and frowned deeper than his usual scowling mug. Leaning against the bar, he threw an easy smile at Husker. The man should liven up. He thought the drunk would actually be enjoying himself being surrounded by equally inebriated souls he plied with alcohol. “I’ll have my usual if you could be so kind and a cocktail for Ynna. She said you’d know what to make.” 

“Coming right up.” With a sigh, the barman got to work on their drinks. Despite his moaning and groaning under breath, he poured expertly, taking great care as he went. Such a good bartender. “Is the kid even good enough to be drinking?” Yellow eyes looked at him in question, a rare show of observable concern peeking through the bored tone he spoke with.

“Why wouldn’t she be? I patched her up myself and I can guarantee that she can at least handle a night of heavy drinking.” He leaned even closer, observing the cat through smiling eyes. Aww. It looked like the gruff man really had developed a soft spot for his goat, not just a superficial friendship. Good. Folding his hands beneath his chin, he called to his employee.

“Say Husker.”

“Oh no. I know that tone. What kinda shit are ya gonna have me do now?” Immediately, black fur bristled, teeth snarled with his guard feebly up as the man whipped his head up from the drinks he was pouring.

“Oh don’t be so apprehensive, Husker. It’s just a simple favor. I’m sure you’re well aware of my budding friendship with Ynna.” 

“Yeah? What about it?” As he expected, the mention of the goat simultaneously lowered the cat’s guard and upped his skepticism. It really was funny. It’s not like the cat was in any position to deny him even if he disagreed with what he was about to say. But the cat never did give up showing his discontent with him, sourpuss that he was.

“Well, after this recent incident, I thought it’d be best if you could keep an eye out for her, make sure she isn’t getting into serious trouble.” Another set of eyes watching over his goat wouldn’t hurt, especially one under his employ. And, if the cat made more effort to be around his goat and just so happened to stop Angel Dust and her from being alone together as often, well…he continued to grin happily.

“That’s it? You want me to play babysitter for her? Why? It ain’t like you to actually give a shit even if you two were close.” The barman looked incredulous, doubt filtering over his features at the uncharacteristic request. He’d asked the man to do plenty of things but protecting another was never one of them. 

“Not a babysitter, that makes it sound like she’s incapable of caring for herself. Just an extra precaution. She’s not very robust as you can see and unsavory things have happened so soon after another.” Two sets of eyes briefly glanced at the goat in the corner, small in the large wheelchair she sat in. So fragile looking even as she cackled a crass sound at something Niffty said. “And as for why, well, I’m rather fond of her. I’m sure you understand. She’s got such a charming personality, so sweet and sincere. Not something you see around these parts often.” He met the cat’s eyes, some mutual understanding of old souls passing between the two of them. “Hell’s going to ruin her even if she hides in the hotel. So I hope you can be there to make sure she doesn’t get into any unnecessary harm should I be unavailable or absent.”

“Shit. You really…fine. It ain’t like I got anything better to do in this shithole.” With a grunted huff, he placed the finished drinks for him to take but not before a sly smirk inched on his black and white face. “So, the kid got you too, huh? Gotta say, didn’t think you two would click, at all.”

“What can I say, she’s got a way about her.” Taking the drinks, he sent one more smile at the man before dropping a line. “Or should I say, she’s goat a way about her.” The word play wiped that smirk off of his smug face, something he absolutely delighted in.

He sauntered back to the group easily as the crowd parted around him. In his hand, Ynna’s cocktail sparkled prettily, a layer of red strawberry puree atop ice and pale yellow alcoholic lemonade. A sprig of mint tangled around straw delicately. It gave him an urge, the usual one. The boom of the base had nothing on the sound of his heart pounding loudly in his ears. He smiled brightly, savoring the rush of guilty conscience and wicked desire locked in another delicious battle with each step he took.

Ah. Sweet torment.

Ynna’s POV

The music blared through the speaker, a pop song catchy enough for you to unconsciously tap your foot to. After Alastor dropped off your drink, he excused himself to go mingle with a few people, some acquaintances of his, he said. It was a little disappointing seeing his red coat disappear into the crowd but you weren’t about to ask him to stay around. The man had already done so much for you that you felt bad for monopolizing his time. Though, he was the one who volunteered it, popping up and sticking around until you were so used to having him and his chatter being next to you.

And then there were also the pangs of your stomach. It hit in the most unexpected of times around the man, startling you into gritting your teeth. Especially when he offered you another potion. It was a relief that you were able to push away that urge and keep up with your conversation earlier without alerting the man. It was so tempting to just go along with his suggestion, if only so the urges would stop once you were healed completely. 

If they ever did stop. Horror filled you at the thought of always feeling that hunger.

It really was becoming a bit of a problem with Alastor. If the man ever found out, you were sure you’d never hear the end of it. But why was it only around him? Maybe it was because you drank his blood before with that potion? Did that mean you’d have the same reaction around Valentino?

“You okay there, toots? Ya look like ya swallowed a bug.” Swallowed a bug’s blood to be exact. A disgusted shiver raked down your spine and you were sure a matching scowl was on your face too as you snapped your attention back to Angel.

“Gross intrusive thought. Washing it away now.” You grabbed the mojito you’d only been sipping and took a few greedy gulps. 

“Look at you go, toots. Atta girl. Am I finally gonna get to see ya go a little crazy tonight?” He swirled the last of his drink before throwing it back, a glint of gold in his grin.

“About as crazy as I can be in a wheelchair.”

“Oh you’d be surprised at what you can do if you just roll with it, doll face.”

You snorted at Angel. The man was back to his usual self today except a bit bedazzled and glossed up for tonight’s party. Rhinestones sparkled in his hair, glitter catching the lights just right to give him a luxurious allure. He was totally out to catch a man tonight and you were just happy to see him in a brighter mood.

“So how’s Operation Cherri going? Isn’t she supposed to be here tonight?” 

“According to my sources (Angel: That’s me.), Miss Cherri will be attending this gathering thisssss evening. When she arrives, I will endeavor to get a dance with her and then we will go from there.” The snake man patted his chest proudly, shy excitement twinkling in his eyes, especially the one on his hat. The Egg Bois said encouragements beside him, at least, the ones not already drunk from having taken the others' drinks. His enthusiasm was kind of cute, especially when you’d noticed his hiss became more prominent the stronger the emotions he felt were. 

Frank was over sharing all the preparations Pent did just for tonight. A new suit, a new cologne, practicing pickup lines in the mirror. You shared a look with Angel to which the porn actor made a shrugging smile. So, Angel thought that Sir Pent could have a chance. Maybe. All the more reason for you to cheer him on then.

“I think I see her by the bar. Hey, Scales. Ready to put that charm o’yours to work?” Squinting in the dim light, Angel stood up to get a better vantage. He was wearing heels too, it seemed.

“I’m sure to sweep Miss Bomb off her feet!” The snake practically hopped out of his seat as his many eyes spotted the redhead. You gave him a pat on the back as he passed by though he seemed too busy hyping himself up to approach his crush to notice.

“See ya in a bit, toots. Gonna go watch out for my girl over there.” Angel followed suit, an extra sway in his hips as he sauntered over to the bar. Several eyes turned to him as he went though he didn’t seem to care for them, too intent to see the juicy scene play out.

If you were able to walk, you would also hover around but you weren’t about to trouble your friends with bringing you around. At least, Al put you in a perfectly good spot to watch what was happening on the stage and dance floor. The crowd wasn’t so impossibly thick that you couldn’t spot Vaggie and Charlie greeting guests or the painfully stiff expression Pent had on his face as he greeted Cherri Bomb. Oh no.

Husk was also in on the gossip, calmly pouring drinks out but you could see his ears leaning towards the spectacle going on. Eventually, he was just leaning next to Angel, the two sharing looks as the scene played out.

Your hand reached over to pick up your drink, eyes trained on the nervous face Sir Pent was making and the totally unimpressed one on Cherri Bomb’s, only to come up empty. You looked over at where your drink should be right in front of you only to find it gone and in the hands of one Niffty and who gigglingly sipped the drink, eye also watching the trainwreck unfold.

“Oh he’s not doing too hot, is he? Wow this is good stuff. What’s it called?” The gurgle of a straw coming short of any liquid followed her question. One large eye blinked at you rapidly and you just realized that you’d never seen the tiny woman drunk. She looked about ready to bounce out of her seat and you were slightly concerned. Eyes trailing over the petite woman, you found no traces of knives or similarly pointy things on her person so maybe it would be okay. You were about eighty percent sure.

“Yeah, it’s good stuff. Do you mind getting me another one since you finished mine? It’s a strawberry lemon mojito. You should probably tell Husk that you drank my drink too.”

“Got it! I’ll get one for me too. Hehehe. Might as well go see what’s going on over there.” Mildly cackling, the gremlin-like woman jumped down and scurried to the bar, struggling to peer over the tall counter to get Husk to notice her. Luckily, Angel did. You figured Husk would know better about whether he should be giving the small woman more alcohol or not. In any case, they, who could freely run around, would be better equipped to handle her anyway if she got…Niffty-er.

“Did they leave you here all alone, darling?” Alastor’s staticky voice drifted towards you, drawing your attention from what looked like Sir Pent resigning himself to failure for the evening. Aww. Poor guy. 

A bubble of delight bloomed in you as you heard him, happy to have him back to accompany you despite the low rumble in your stomach at the first flash of his red. Beside Alastor was an equally tall woman dressed in a Victorian era gown, a grandly decorated hat atop her short white bob. She looked elegant yet friendly with a toothy grin on her face that matched Alastor’s. From the way they stood, it was obvious to you that this was one of the deer demon’s friends. You motioned for the two to join you at the table.

“Yeah. They’re over at the bar. Sir Pent’s shooting his shot with Cherri and it looks like it isn’t going well.”

“Hmm.” Came the sound of Alastor’s politely feigned interest, which was expected. He’d never seemed interested in the snake man…at all, now that you thought about it. 

The gentleman helped the lady sit, pushing the chair in as she delicately sat down before taking his earlier seat next to you. “Well, shame about that.” More polite disinterest. You almost rolled your eyes at him had he not immediately stirred the conversation his way. “Now, let me introduce you two lovely gals to each other. Rosie, this is Ynna, one of the guests at our hotel and my darling new friend. Ynna, this is Rosie, my dear friend and the most delightful and dangerous Overlord east of the Pentagram.”

“Pleasure to meet you Miss Rosie.” You held out your uninjured hand, wrangling with the apprehension and caution you felt after Alastor mentioned the title the lady in front of you held. The confident air about her and friendly atmosphere around the Radio Demon made sense if she was also a demon of equal power. Suddenly, those teeth looked a little too sharp for comfort. But since Al was introducing her, he must think she would be safe to be around.

“Oh just call me Rosie, sweetie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Alastor’s mentioned he made a new friend these days and I’ve been dying to see the little lady who’s had the gumption to be buddies with him. But I’ve been so busy.” Her hand was warm and dainty as she shook yours. Somehow her bottomless eyes exuded a warmth and friendliness that eased your instinctive caution against the powerful woman. That toothy smile of hers turned into a small conspiratorial smirk. “This guy barely makes any friends, you know. All that charm to fill a room yet he still keeps a small circle.” 

“I’m just very picky with whom I associate with.” 

“Well, at least you have good taste.” She giggled behind a dainty hand, her manners impeccable yet somehow casual. “And I can tell from the way this place is arranged, I bet you had a hand in it, didn’t you Mister? The decor doesn’t match the music choice at all.”

“More than a hand. I had to fix this place up after a little incident a couple of days ago.”

“Ah. Is it the one where someone was calling you for help over the radio? I had to shut up everyone in the shop thinking that I was hearing things. I hoped whoever did that survived after you signed off.”

“Ah, that would be me.” Heat rose to your face at the reminder that all of Pentagram City (maybe even all of Pride Ring) heard your broadcast. It was so embarrassing to hear someone outside of the hotel mention it.

“Really? Oh sweetie you’ve got more moxie than I thought. This guy gets so touchy about his things I thought for sure that call for help would end up gruesome for the caller. I see you’re mostly doing fine but I just hope those injuries weren’t Alastor’s doing.” You blushed harder at the recognition of the potentially stupid move you’d made. It felt like facing your grandmother who was both proud of your shenanigans but also deeply concerned. She was very nice about it.

“He took care of the guys that did it. Though he really does have a temper. I felt so bad for trespassing in his tower and I was ready to get throttled for it too.” You said almost jokingly, feeling rather casual about it now that the incident had come to pass. Beside you, the Radio Demon tensed at your nonchalant admission.

“Darling, I can’t believe you ever thought that I’d hurt you. Have I not been a perfect gentleman ever since we made up?” His eyes looked rather hurt by your admission though he remained ever smiling. You immediately rushed to clarify.

“You have and I was about 95% sure I’d be safe with you. You’ve only ever been wonderful, Al.” If you could have patted his hand, you would have but since the man didn’t like to be touched, you settled on maintaining eye contact with him to show your sincerity. “But I also know that it’s your private space that I trespassed on, publicly broadcast it too, and you have all the right to get mad at me for it, especially if I ended up breaking something in there.”

A faint crackle of static popped through the air as he sighed, mirth filling those red eyes of his. “This is why I adore you, darling. How could I think to punish you when you say such adorably respectful things?” A red clawed hand reached to pinch your cheek and you let it, welcoming the affection as it reassured you that he took no offense to your earlier statement more than his words did.

“You’re such a sweetheart, Ynna. No wonder ol’ Alastor here’s so soft with you. From my understanding, it sounded like the whole thing was an emergency situation but here you are ready to make amends anyway. See what I mean by him having good taste?” Rosie giggled, patting Alastor in the shoulder like she was congratulating him on doing a good job. 

“She really is a sweetheart, probably the sweetest soul in all of Pride Ring.” 

“Aww thanks Al. You don’t have to flatter me like that.” A grin tugged at your lips, enjoying his praise but also trying to laugh it off. It wouldn’t do to take his words too seriously in case he was just paying you some lip service.

“Just take the compliment, darling. I speak only the truth.” He rolled his eyes at your polite denial, never one to like too much humility in a person. You blushed at that and felt touched that he really did think that of you.

The lady smiled from across the table, watching you two. “How are your injuries holding up if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m healing up fine. It was actually Al who stitched me up after.” The earlier fear you had of her slipped away at her friendly demeanor. She was so very expressive. Black pit eyes crinkled merrily as she switched from smile to smirk to grin and back the entire time. “Did you know that he can sew?”

“He can?” Now her face was mildly shocked.  

“I did pick up a bit of basic tailoring back up top. I did some of the mending for my own outfits back in the day. I just could not find a decent tailor in Hell for years and then you introduced me to Seamee. Ah. That’s the name of the tailor I frequent in Cannibal Town, darling.” Alastor’s drink materialized in his hand, about half as full as when he’d gotten it. He leisurely took a sip, remembering the old days.

“She’s happy for the business, absolutely loves it when you drop by. And Ynna, if you’re ever in Cannibal Town, let me know. I can tell you all the best places to go for whatever you need, and where to avoid since some of the folks over there can get a bit nippy, if you know what I mean. I’m sure Alastor can show you around too.” Her hands moved as she talked, gesturing to you and Al.

“You’re familiar with Cannibal Town, Rosie?”

“Oh silly me. I forgot to mention. It’s my territory.” She grinned, all teeth, before settling into a smaller polite smile. The mention of the place had you a little tense, your earlier thoughts coming to mind. Pretty convenient to meet the ruler of Cannibal Town. You should have expected they would be friends with Alastor.

“Yes. Rosie here is the leader of Cannibal Town. All the ravenous flesh-ripping gentlemen and women look up to her for guidance and stability. It’s the best run sector of Pentagram City.” Alastor sent you a look that you could have sworn was laughing at how you tensed at the mention of that area. Why did the conversation always end up going back to cannibalism nowadays? You blamed Alastor for that.

“Oh stop it you charmer.” A proud smile settled on her face as she looked at you, excited to be talking about her territory. “I also run a little shop, Rosie’s Emporium. Feel free to drop by. It’s full of people most days but I’ll squeeze you right in. I’ll give you a good deal on any goods I can offer too.” 

“I’ll be sure to make a trip there one of these days then.” You found yourself saying in response to her super sweet invitation though the thought of visiting the cannibal district made you a bit queasy. 

“Fantastic! Speaking of goods, how did that tip turn out for you?” Delighted by your answer, she now turned to Alastor.

“Wonderfully. Finished up just as Ynna called that day, actually. I really do thank you for sharing, dear.”

“My pleasure, Alastor. What’s a couple of favors between friends?”

The two chuckled and continued their lighthearted conversation. It was fascinating to watch. Both of them were picturesque in their elegant attire and postures. They looked like they could be having a tea party in a queen’s garden instead of sharing gossip in the middle of a slightly classier drinking party. 

Rosie was bright and confident yet maturely elegant. Alastor was charming and poised and witty. They made for a lovely pair, like two peas in a pod.

A small pit started to form in your stomach. You were starting to feel out of place. It was strange. The topics were fine, some even funny to listen to. The two were very skilled conversationalists, never forgetting to include you when talking about something only they knew about. You had the impression that Rosie liked you and Alastor was enjoying himself yet…the more you looked at them, the more insecure you felt. You weren’t sure why.

Thankfully, you spotted Angel coming back with some drinks in hands. Seeing him approach with Sir Pent, Niffty and Cherri Bomb behind him eased some of that heavy feeling though it didn’t really go away.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

“One mojito refill, comin’ your way toots.” You took the drink with a wide grin of thanks, more happy to have the spider back and able to distract you more than having another drink. Almost too eagerly, you motioned for him to take the seat on your other side, hoping to mask your over-enthusiasm by acting more excited in general. He slid into the seat, putting down his own drink as he settled in with Cherri Bomb with Sir Pent following behind.

“Oh oh! Hi Rosie!” Instead of taking a seat, Niffty bounded over to the Overlord, a spring in her step as she greeted her. It looked like they were friends too.

“Niffty, darling. Long time, no see. I heard Alastor’s got you working in the princess’ hotel. Having fun?” Rosie’s eyes widened, they would have brightened, you thought, if they hadn’t been pits of darkness, as she fondly regarded the little gremlin of a woman.

“Oh it’s been great. Lots of bugs to kill, ehehe.” On cue, a knife appeared in the demoness’ hand as she grinned sinisterly. You started to wonder if that was magic or just Niffty’s ability. Either way, Rosie seemed used to it, matching her grin with a dainty raised brow.

“I’m sure you’re doing a fantastic job.”

“Oh I’m getting there.” The little demon climbed onto the chair next to Rosie, her own drink set down along with the knife. Looked like Husk approved giving her more alcohol.

“Are you gonna introduce us or what, Niff?” Angel prompted, curious about the classy lady sitting across next to Alastor.

“I’ll handle that. This fine lady here is the one and only Rosie, Overlord ruler of Cannibal Town and a long time friend of mine. She’s been gracious enough to delight us with her presence this evening despite her busy schedule so I hope you all can show her some respect this evening. Then, we can all have a good time.” For the first time since the broadcast, you felt a hint of malice emitting from the demon next to you. It brushed against your senses so lightly that you had to really observe the ever smiling demon to confirm what you felt.

He sat poised, even cheerful. If not for the slight narrowing of his eyes and instinctive alertness nagging at your brain, you wouldn't have noticed his intimidation. Nobody else seemed to notice the threat in his words, everyone assuming that he meant to be cautious of another Overlord in their presence, but really, they should be afraid of what he would do if they disrespected his guest. It was a sign of how highly he thought of her. A twinge shifted in your chest at that.

A round of introductions to your friends and Cherri happened, each individual subtly wary of the undoubtedly powerful lady and were willing to obey Alastor’s thinly veiled warning in front of her. 

For her part, she just smiled innocently, sometimes patting Alastor in the arm to chide him for a rather snide comment he made while introducing the men. The lady also seemed familiar with that bad habit of his just as he was with her good natured scolding. It was surreal to watch the interaction and it took a bit for you to understand why, piecing together everything you’d watched them do this evening. This was the first time you’d seen him with someone he considered his equal. She could make jabs at him without receiving an even more scathing comment back. She touched Alastor and the man did not reject it or overreact. An air of mutual respect and fondness surrounded them, a wall that labeled them as a unit to anyone with eyes. 

A lightbulb lit up in your mind. This was why you felt uncomfortable with them. You felt like a third wheel to their elegant presence. The feeling felt even stranger, having gotten used to being the one closest to the Radio Demon in the hotel. Given the time you spent together, you thought that maybe you were special, even amongst his friends. But that was just your ego getting a big head from his attention. Clearly, there were other more fitting people around him and the thought made you sad despite yourself.

“Splendid.” Seeing everyone acquiesce to his request and introductions finished, Alastor turned to you. A bit of hurt and embarrassment sprouted in your chest, still reeling from your self-awareness as you met his expectant gaze. “Now, where were we, darling?”

Gathering yourself up, you tried to act normal. 

“Jazz night at the Emporium?” The earlier conversation had somehow gotten to some of the other parties Alastor had thrown in the past and one of them was an event he managed to convince Rosie to throw. 

“Ah right! You really should get him to play the piano for you some time, Ynna. He’s got that flare that’ll knock your socks off, I tell ya.” The lady sent a wink your way, her friendly gesture tasting a bit bittersweet in the midst of your internal evaluation. “All the cannabettes and even some cannibals swoon whenever he plays.”

Beside you, Alastor sipped his whiskey slowly, subtly basking in the praise. You had the impression that he was used to the lady gushing about his talents yet still enjoyed hearing it every single time. The demon thanked Rosie for the endorsement, the two sharing a look before Alastor turned back to you with a promise to play for you some time. He even said he’d put on his favorite tracks while you two were doing chores so you could pick what he’d play. 

It was a sweet offer (that he’d let you choose when he usually did as he pleased) but you were too stuck on how easily they matched each other to appreciate it. Too envious of their closeness and whoa. That wasn’t right. There was no reason to be envious. It would be very immature of you to do so and doubly vexing to feel insecure about your friendship because you were stupid enough to compare it with others. You were more mature than that. You told yourself that but it was hard to keep up a cheerful face next to them.

With perfect timing, Angel came to the rescue again by distracting you. It was almost like he could sense your distress though you were sure that it wasn’t apparent. He asked for a sip of your drink for which you automatically asked for a sip of his in exchange. It was pink and coconut flavored, just a little too sweet. The cloying sugary drinks and how it matched Angel’s aesthetic took your mind and eyes off of Alastor and Rosie for a second and you were grateful for the reprieve. Not that it lasted long.

“So Rosie…” The spider smacked his lips, shimmery with gloss still despite drinking so much. He leaned forward to address the lady in question. “…you wouldn’t happen to be Smiles’ hidden girlfriend by any chance? Man hardly talks about himself, let alone introduces us to one of his friends. You two also give that kinda vibe.” You tensed, equal parts scared for Angel and his audacity to ask such a forward question (and just after Al warned them all to mind their manners!) and also curious about the answer. It was a fair question. Rosie and Alastor gave the same impressions of being nice and polite. They matched each other very well from style to attitude. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the two were involved. In fact, you now really wanted to know the answer.

“Me and him? Hah, no!” The question seemed to have caught her off-guard as instead of the lady-like giggles you’d seen her give all evening, she laughed loudly, patting her chest like she was struggling to breathe. She glanced at Alastor, then at you and back to Angel, still stifling her laughter as she continued. “Though we do get that a lot, don’t we? My last husband thought that too. Couldn’t convince him that nothing was going on even though we insisted. And not to offend you dear, you know I adore you to bits but you’re just not my type.”

“The feeling’s mutual. That’s why we get along. I did tell you he wasn’t ready to handle a woman like you. Too closed minded for gal with power and connections to match.” In a sassy gesture, Alastor flicked his wrist down, just as dismissive of the question as Rosie had been. 

“Well I opened his mind right up at the end, now didn’t I? Tasted awful though.” Both Overlords chuckled, sharing a knowing smirk at each other as they did before going into full-blown laughter. Everyone else around the table, save for Niffty who was also laughing, eyed the two cannibals. While murdering your spouse was common news in Hell, eating them afterwards was a Cannibal Town exclusive. 

“That’s one way to get rid of a body.” From across the table, Cherri Bomb laughed, trying to break the awkwardness.

“That’s one way to eat out your ex!” Beside you, Angel cackled, picking up the mood again with Cherri’s cue after the two Overlords had effectively creeped everyone else out. His crassness shocked you enough that you elbowed him, reminding him to mind his manners though a smile tugged at your lips as you did. For someone who didn’t like it when you dropped puns, he was cranking them out tonight. Seeing your chiding, the spider flashed you a grin, one of his lower arms holding onto your elbow to stop you from jabbing him. “Oh come on, toots. That was a good one.”

“Yes but—“ Turning to Rosie, you apologized on the spider’s behalf. “Pardon Angel, Rosie. He’s got a raunchy sense of humor. Comes with the job.”

“I come ON the job, sweetheart. Multiple times, usually.”

“How much have you had to drink already!?” You rounded on him swiftly. Behind your incredulity at his lack of caution around the unfamiliar Overlord, a startled peal of laughter followed. He only responded with a laidback shrug, eyes going to Cherri Bomb for a second where the cyclops was grinning toothily.

“Enough, with plenty of room for more and you’re matching me shot for shot tonight, toots.” His other arms went around you and your chair, pulling you a bit closer to his side. Some time after he left with Sir Pent but before they came back, the alcohol he’d consumed kicked in. Between the underlying smell of vodka beneath his perfume and the very slight slur in his words, you could tell that he was having a good time. While you worried that he was being a bit careless and too crass, his loose behavior did trigger something in you as you began to relax again.

“I’ll try. A lcohol it quits when I want.” Reaching over, you patted the hand still holding onto your elbow as you laughed. There was a crackle of static behind you, a bit of it snapping just enough to raise the hairs on the back of your neck. It felt like the Radio Demon was getting annoyed with Angel’s antics. 

Again, an uncomfortable feeling surged at Al’s protectiveness of his friend along with a bit of that infernal hunger. You tamped down both feelings desperately, your own annoyance starting to surface. 

“You always find such fun people to be around, Alastor.” Rosie giggled from her seat. With a wave of her hand, a glass of wine materialized, stem perfectly held in her fingers. “And no worries, sweetie. We’re here to have a good time. Letting loose every now and then is good for the soul and I like myself a gal that can hold his liquor.” Raising her glass in a toast, she winked at you both, eyes emitting laughter. 

“Cheers to that!” On Angel’s cue, everyone raised their glasses to toast and drink and be merry. A light atmosphere engulfed the group as they felt less tense around the Overlords. Rosie shared a couple of stories, with Al filling in some details every now and then. It shamed you to admit that looking at the two Overlords together was a bit unbearable. 

Sat at your chair, watching and listening to everyone, you started to get tipsy after finishing your drink. It was a conscious effort to engage and have fun as you battled with yourself, finding a few moments of reprieve when Angel or Cherri took the lead. A part of you almost wanted to blame Alastor’s presence for igniting these stupid feelings that were spoiling your evening. Not that he was doing it on purpose; the man was oblivious to the way your stomach roiled in envy and hunger. Still, you couldn’t help but want to avoid looking at him. If you happened to focus more on Angel and your other friends though during the conversation, well, you could blame the alcohol. Besides, the Overlords kept themselves pretty entertained anyway.

Alastor’s POV

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on a man.” Rosie spoke out of nowhere as they twirled around the dance floor.

He and the lady had excused themselves from the group to go dance as soon as Mimzy’s performers started to play. It was a slower song, a good piece for the band to warm up with before they really got the party started. This was more Rosie’s style so they took the chance to dance together.

“I completely agree but why are you bringing it up?” Rosie gave him a knowing look which confused him further. He spun them around slowly, the dance floor clearing away a path for them.

“Oh, darling. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? We may be dancing here but you left your shadow with Ynna. I get it though. An adorable thing like her. I wouldn’t be able to leave her alone either.” Her laughter punctuated her speech, steps faltering a little as she went but skillfully keeping up regardless. While he was pleased that she liked his goat, absolutely delighted that the two women seemed to get along, he really wasn’t sure that he liked what his dear friend was implying.

“Just a bit of protection. Can never be too careful in a room full of overindulgent sinners. She’s not fully healed yet, after all.” He did leave his phantom to guard the injured woman while he was away. The rowdier the room got, the more likely it was that some idiot would think she was an easy target. But it seemed like his caution was being perceived in a strange way by the lady.

“Ah, so your shadow slowly inching either her or that spider sinner away from each other is just ‘a bit of protection’ then? Hah! I can tell they’re close but not in any way that you should be worried about, Alastor.” As she said so, Ynna leaned in to whisper something to the spider causing the man to slap his knee with laughter. His goat looked at the spider with an impish expression, satisfied with the reaction she got. This was normal behavior for the two, something he’d seen countless times since she’d moved in. His static still broke, loud enough for his dance partner to hear, when the spider patted her head. They spied a very distinct shape snarling beneath them, nudging Ynna’s wheelchair back ever so slightly. Rosie laughed even more. “Do I need to point out how ridiculous you’re being? Leave the girl and her friends alone before she catches on and you get in trouble for it.”

While it was true that he was being a bit too…affected by their closeness, he felt more embarrassed by the shameful actions his shadow was taking. He’d sent the thing over there to watch, nothing more. Sending a command to the semi-sentient creature, it willfully ignored him, complaining about the two being too close. It was making him look like an insecure buffoon in front of his friend, giving her ideas that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I’m not jealous, dear. Jealousy implies what I have can be taken away. And you know I don’t work like that.” He swung them so that the lady no longer faced that table’s direction. She was unimpressed by his motions, smoothly taking the lead for herself. Tapping away in her heels, she swung out in the group’s direction before pulling him in towards her. Gliding across the floor, he found his place by her side again, hands at the small of the lady’s back as she dipped herself, their faces both facing the table when they looked up from the pose. 

Ynna’s eyes glimmered in the dim light. Eyes looking at both of them, strangely intense (though that could just be the rare self-consciousness he was feeling under Rosie’s chastising), as she smiled dully…then turned back to the others. His eye twitched, feeling as if she’d done this too many times that evening.

“Exactly. So tell your shadow to quit it.” He did so, promptly, pulling the shadow back to himself forcefully. The shade unhappily returned to him, demanding blood and someone’s pain to sate its annoyance. Really, only Rosie could ever catch him out of sorts like this. It was a very rare occasion when he and the shade weren’t in sync. As much as he trusted the woman to never tell a soul, it was still embarrassing to be witnessed being unable to control such a crucial part of him. It was a piece of his soul! He huffed in annoyance, feigning nonchalance in front of his friend.

“Happy now?” Pulling her back up to an upright position, the lady finally let him lead her away from the group.

“Much. You know I’m only trying to give you some good advice? Can’t have you screwing up the first time you’ve ever gone after a girl.” She took the lead from him again, setting a much calmer pace as they swayed side to side, too focused on the conversation to do much else aside from a few twirls.

“I’m not so hopeless, old friend. I’ll have you know, we’re quite close. Not only does she take my advice, she also trusts me with her life. We spend quite a lot of time together and I believe our bond is quite strong despite our differences.”

“Is that so? Have you told her about the stuff you fed her? Bet that’ll test whether that bond of yours is strong enough.” His smile almost dropped at that. His mind formed the scene in his head, a vision of Ynna’s sweet smiling face dropping into horror and disgust. The trust in her eyes disappeared into hate and oh…his footsteps stopped as his brain froze, unwilling to complete that image. Quickly, he recovered, moving back into the beat as if he hadn’t paused at all. But Rosie noticed. Of course she did. Still, the perceptive lady didn’t mention it.

“She doesn’t need to know all the sordid details. That’ll only upset her. Besides, I’ve weaned off of that. It’s been ridiculously tempting to keep up the shameful behavior but it’ll only sabotage my progress if I do.” The song was coming to an end and with one last twist out and back, the final notes of the dance sang their tune and finished. “As long as neither of us tell her, she’ll never find out.” 

“I don’t know Alastor. Truth will out. Best she hears it from you than find out some other way.” Wisdom as old as time. He sighed to himself. Had he had more foresight into the delightful turn their relationship would head into, he wouldn’t have done what he did. He would have bided his time as he had been, waiting for Ynna’s fondness to tilt her morality just enough to indulge him instead of taking his pleasure and entertainment so hastily. Now, he had an additional risk he needed to bury deep and away.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“So, how did you like my presentation? Tried to put in a good word for you to dazzle her with.” Reassured that he was being careful, the lady tangled her arm around his. It looked like he was escorting her but in truth, she was the one leading him to the exit through the crowd.

“I appreciate it. I can’t believe I’ve forgotten to show her my musical talents. I’ve been so caught up with other things and our conversations that it’s slipped my mind.” A slip up that he would remedy soon, a sense of giddiness already sprouting in his chest awaiting the goat’s praise.

“Well isn’t that a good sign? Just talking to her is enough. Hmmm. I can see why you’d get all possessive of her if that’s the case. Just be careful not to overdo it. There’s a fine line between what’s acceptable and what isn’t.” She tutted, a teasing smile on her face as they reached the door.

“You really are having fun with all of this relationship advisory you’ve taken to doing for me, aren’t you?”

“It’s a hoot! You’re always giving me judgment and advice on my love life. It’s nice being on the other side for once.” Her smile morphed into a grin, a bit of sadistic delight at his plight mixed in with genuine joy. “When are you planning to properly court her? As far as I can see, you two are just friends.”

“I don’t think I’d ever go that far, dear. I’m quite happy with where we are and things are going where I want them to. I don’t see anything gained from pursuing romance.” Ynna was already reconsidering her stance on absolutely not eating demon meat. What more could he ask for other than that she maintain an appropriate distance with her friends?

“Hmm. You say that now but mark my words. You’ll get why you’d want that eventually.” She reached over to hug him before bidding adieu. “Well, I’m off for the evening. Enjoy the rest of your night and give Ynna my love, dear.”

“I’ll see you next time.” He waved her off and did a round of surveillance in the room. A perfectly controlled chaos was ensuing, bodies moving on the dance floor as the music picked up in tempo, dancing girls dazzling on the stage with their glittering dresses and delicate feathers. Seeing that everything was going well, he checked in with Charlie, the princess absolutely bouncing animatedly between sinners, talking about the pros of the hotel and preaching the greatness of redemption to a crowd that obviously only wanted to enjoy the party. Her determination and focus was impressive. He had half a mind to ask Vaggie how many times the princess had sung her sales pitch but the answer would be as many times as she could fit since the party had begun.

He made his way to where the group had been sitting only to find the table occupied by a different party. A quick scan found his goat at the bar, sitting quite happily as the others spoke. A slight flush glowed on her cheeks, the first evidence of her inebriation. 

“Al!” Her voice, higher and more chipper now that she was drunk, called almost shrilly when she found him in the crowd as he approached. Her eyes scanned around him. “Where’s Rosie?”

“She’s left. Busy schedules and all that.” He occupied the barstool next to her, conveniently vacated when the demon sitting there saw him approach and eye that seat. He ordered another drink to the gruff complaining of Husker who was starting to get sloppy in his service. The swigs the cat had been taking all evening finally started to get to him, it seemed.

“Aww that’s too bad. I liked her. She was nice.” The woman threw him a small grin, eyes sparkling in the dim light. 

“She was very serious about that visit. I’m sure she’d be delighted if you dropped by her shop.” Like earlier, she gave a polite affirmative though he could tell that she wasn’t enthusiastic about actually going. Too bad. He was already planning an outing to Cannibal Town with her some time. Husker handed him his drink and reached over the bar to give Ynna one as well. Because of the bar height, Ynna, in her wheelchair, only reached just below the bar top. She took an enthusiastic gulp of her cocktail, drinking half the glass before stopping with a happy smile on her face.

“Hehe. Hmm.” She swayed a bit in her seat, quiet but perfectly satisfied, eyes half lidded as she observed her friends, absently listening to them talk. So she was a happy drunk. That was good to know. 

“So..so I was saying—“ Angel stopped his story briefly when a head leaned on his thigh, one of his hands going straight to stroking their hair when he realized it was Ynna. “—why can’t Val let me handle some of his money shit? I was in the mob once. I know how to get that shit done, probably better than those rookies he’s got running the business. Fuckin amateurs.” He watched the spider’s hand absently pet his goat’s head as she looked aimlessly into the crowd, perfectly content. He could hear a hissing in his mind, a couple of clicks sounding too and his hackles rose watching the harmonious display.

“Hey, is she alright? Baby looks like she’s about to pass out.” Cherri Bomb made a very good point. If Ynna was too tired, he could bring her back to her room. She didn’t have to endure socializing by leaning on Angel Dust.

“Eh. She’s fine, just lightweight. Gets all cuddly and happy when she’s drunk.” The spider waved off his friend’s concern before addressing the goat in question. “Ain’t ya, tootsie roll?”

“Hm? Yeah. Were you in the mob before or after death? I was thinking about when Tommy Guns were a thing. Probably the 50s?”

“See? She’ll sit there lookin’ all goofy but she’s payin’ attention. And it was the 40’s, sweetheart.” The two went back to what they were doing, Angel talking while Ynna sat contentedly sipping her drink as she rested on him. They were a picture of companionable harmony and the bar he needed to reach to become her closest companion reached a new height. Even though he was speaking to her just before, she decided to lean on the spider. She felt more comfortable with the effeminate man than him.

They all sat there like that, talking, joking, getting more drunk as the night went on. His eyes would stray onto his goat, finding some delight in her happily dull expression. He just had to ignore the annoyance he felt when she shifted, only to continue leaning on the spider. 

The spider and his cyclops friend eventually left to dance and find some unfortunate souls to show a good time to, leaving only him and Ynna at the bar with Husker. He thought that with the woman’s need for contact while drunk (a cuddly drunk, as the spider helpfully noted), she’d ask to lean on him next now that her other friends were unavailable but no. She chose to lean her heavy head against the bar, those sparkling yet sluggish eyes smiling dumbly at him as they chatted about party etiquette from his time compared to now.

Stupid, vexing woman. Why was there such an obvious distinction between him and her other friends? He finished his seventh glass of liquor in displeasure.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

You lost track of how much you’ve drunk and wait, no. It was maybe four drinks and a couple shots? You were still sipping on the one drink Husk gave you when Alastor rejoined the group. Now, everyone left to do their own thing, leaving you at the bar with Alastor and Husk. It wasn’t so bad, though you did lament not being able to dance. Mimzy’s group was really killing it with the music, entertaining the crowd with electric swing and a faint show of skin from the sparklingly-dressed dancing girls.

Everything would have been perfect actually, if only your stomach didn’t feel so upset. You tried to blame it on the alcohol, but you knew it was because of a certain demon sitting next to you. It was honestly all so very irritating. Earlier, you were feeling unreasonably insecure about your friendship with the man, even a little sad that he had left to go entertain his best friend Overlord lady. Now that he was back, you couldn’t even fully enjoy your deer friend’s presence because it triggered that incredibly vile hunger.

You drank the last of your cocktail, hoping the liquid would help fill that void in your gut a bit so you could concentrate the wavering bits of your focus onto your friend. What has he been going on about?

“—and we used to have to make our own booze back in the day or find some underground dealer willing to part with their limited stock.” Right, more tales from his time alive.

“What a time you lived in. A World War, the Great Depression AND the Prohibition?” If you had the timeline correct, the man would have lived through some of the toughest times in the 1900s– would’ve lived through the second World War had he survived that long. 

“When you put it that way, sweetheart, it does sound like a dreary time to have been alive.” Crossing his hands under his chin, he leaned on them, a teasing twinkle in his eye.

“But you’re gonna tell me it was the best, aren’t you Mr. Big Ol’ Radio Star?” A lazy smile tugged at your lips as you directed the prompt to the mildly narcissistic man, and as expected, his voice dropped down to a bit of a gravel as he dragged the last syllable of his answer with a lilt.

“Oh, but it was~” 

“And why was it?” 

“Because I was alive, sweetheart. I was in fact, a very Big Mr. Radio Star. I was gracing the waves and wowing the crowds.” Hand to his chest like he was preaching gospel or about to belt out a loud chorus, he swung his arm grandly, as if the world had been made better by just his presence. He’d gone without gloves this evening, his pretty hands fluttering about as he talked. You snorted at his theatrics, admittedly very fond of his boasting when he did it so performatively. 

“Terrorizing the streets of Louisiana, more like.” His half-lidded gaze crinkled in amusement at your jab, the grin on his face unwavering. A warm feeling fluttered in your chest at seeing him so very entertained. That was, until a very loud growl sounded from your stomach, so embarrassingly loud that it could be heard above the noise in the room. Your heart froze in dread, teeth aching to sink into something.

“Hungry, sweetheart?” Without missing a beat, a bowl of strawberries manifested on the bar top with a snap of Al’s fingers. You were about to ask him to pass them to you when you felt a ghostly presence wrap around you and lift you up and onto an empty bar stool that Al manifested next to him. On the flat surface of the bar top that you could now see over, a cackling vaguely Alastor-shaped shadow waved before disappearing into the dark corners. You absently waved back to it, finding the shade just as funny and charming as its owner. 

“How do you always have so many snacks?” Giggling, you turned back to Al, the demon absently picking up a strawberry and offering it to you. Plucking the fruit from his hand, its flesh gave way easily as you nibbled on it. The crisp taste of it soothed your hunger immediately.

“Had to start carrying them when I found myself being more and more in the company of an absolute glutton.” A red-clawed finger booped your nose, and you playfully threatened to do the same, finger stopping just in front of his pointy nose but never touching. Al’s eyes grew so wide at the action that you had to laugh. He really was a bit more open now that he’d had a few drinks in him, letting you see that surprised look on his face so easily. It was adorable. Was that appropriate? Should you be describing the big bad Radio Demon as adorable? He remained with that deer in headlights look, and you decided yes, your friend was adorable.

“Need another refill, kid or are ya good?” 

“I can go for more. Ya got hmmm maybe something with Irish liqueur?” Husk, the best barman ever, gave you an amused look as you tried to think of a drink. 

“You’re looking for coffee, aren’t ya?” The cat knew you well enough to know exactly what you were craving this late in the evening. He blew a huff out of his nose with a smirk as he read your mind correctly.

“That too much to ask?”

“I can spike some hot chocolate for ya and that's the best I got.”

“Sweet. You’re the best! Thanks Husk!” You made a little heart shape with your hands which got the man to snort at your drunken silliness. What was the use of being drunk if you couldn’t be silly and make your friends laugh? That said, being drunk on a backless bar stool was difficult when two of your four limbs couldn’t support you properly. You had to resort to leaning most of your torso against the counter, the edge of it digging into your ribs but at least, you weren’t going to teeter off to the side…yet. Maybe if you got drunk enough.

With your good hand you picked up a strawberry, munching on the slightly sour fruit as Husk made your drink. Alastor sat quietly beside you. When you turned, he seemed tipsy? Buzzed? Definitely not sober. His signature grin was toned down to a mellow smile as he also watched Husk work. Remembering your manners, you nudged the fruit bowl to him. He turned his half lidded gaze to you, eyes crinkling into that way you knew meant he was delighted. His pleased reaction brought you some joy, your eyes also crinkling to match his expression. 

Ever so perceptive, he picked up on your happiness and became even more delighted which in turn made you happier and etcetera, etcetera. This joy loop bounced between you two, silly merriment eventually drawing out giggles as you two ate your strawberries, legs swinging with lighthearted cheer. It was all so silly and fun. This was what you had hoped the evening would be like. No need to eat your best friend. No weird feelings of jealousy. Just drunken foolishness that had Husk rolling his eyes and sending you and Alastor into more giggles.

“There you are! Been looking all over this joint for ya. Hey Alastor, sweetie.” Mimzy pushed her way through the crowd and onto the seat at Alastor’s other side.

“Mimzy! Stunning performance up there as usual, doll. Glad you could join us.” The demon turned to address his other friend.

“Are ya? Didn’t see ya on the dance floor except for when Rosie was here. Normally, you’d be ripping up those floorboards with me.” A hint of annoyance could be found in the woman’s voice though Alastor seemed to shrug it off without a care, a bit more alert and composed compared to just seconds ago.

“You’re always spectacular, Mimzy. But I thought I’d keep Ynna company tonight.” Peeking over your friend’s shoulder, you waved tinily to the demoness. She sent a smirk back.

“Oh! Didn’t see ya there, sweet cheeks. I know you like to shake it too so why’re you over here? Are you feelin’ shy?”

“Nah. Just can’t tonight.” Pulling the collar of your shirt a little, you let her see a small peek of the bandages underneath. There was a flash of understanding before she shrugged it off.

“Well, suit yourself. You don’t mind me borrowing ol’ Alastor here for a couple songs, now, do ya?” 

“Why’re you asking me? He’s right here.” 

“Isn’t he your date tonight?” 

“He’s not…?” The answer came out sounding a bit more like a question with how confused you were. Did it look like you were Al’s date for the evening? You looked to the unusually quiet demon, signaling for him to answer his friend. The man in question didn’t so much as twitch as he watched the exchange, his lazy gaze showing a bit of intensity as he waited to see your response. That or he was so drunk that he was starting to zone out. He had a very good poker face so you weren’t too sure.

“Oh if that’s the case, come on, twinkle toes. You owe me a dance.” Mimzy didn’t wait for a response, grabbing the man’s arm and pulling him away. For a second, you felt a hint of annoyance buzz from him, a very light crackle in static snapping as they left to dance. Why was he upset?

“Here ya go, kid.” The clack of glass against the bar top brought your attention back to Husk who had conveniently disappeared when the smaller demoness showed up.

“So…ducking down behind the bar to hide from Mimzy?”

“Ain’t in the mood to serve that bitch.”

“Ouch. What’d she do to you? She seems nice enough?” 

“Seems nice enough until she’s writing your name down for all the loans she’s taking out. If Alastor didn’t tell her to quit it, we’d have more of those sharks houndin’ us everyday.” He took a swig from his bottle. “Selfish little mooch is what she is.”

You blinked twice, slowly, taking in this bit of information. You made a mental note to be careful with the woman from now on. It was for the best that she was only superficially friendly with you if she was one to drag her friends down with her like that. 

It was a wonder then that Alastor seemed fond of her. Come to think of it, you didn’t seem to mind their closeness compared to Rosie. Maybe it was because the two didn’t seem to share that same frequency that the Overlords did, that matching aura. The image of Rosie and Alastor on the dance floor had been beautiful, something straight out of a painting. It was like watching a tornado from a distance, awe inspiring and untouchable unless you wanted to get hurt. It led you to wonder: what kind of impression did you and Alastor give when in each other’s company? There was a wish that you at least didn’t look out of place next to him, powerless and plain as you were. 

Alastor’s company…You sipped your hot chocolate, the taste of rum cutting through its sweetness just right. If you felt like waxing poetry, you would liken his company to your drink. Sweet, with a hidden edge to it. The alcoholic bite would have thrown you off not too long ago but now, you welcomed it in tolerable amounts. Or maybe he was more like coffee. Dark with hints of roasted and smoky sweetness. Just the right mix of everything that you kept coming back to enjoy that bitter brew.

…You really needed to not associate the man with food or drink.

“You in there, kid?” A gruff voice with a light slur to it brought you back to the present. 

“Hm? Yeah. What’s up?”

“So Angel uh…is he okay? He wasn’t doin too hot after the hotel got attacked and I know he went lookin for ya after.” The bartender’s eyes shifted a bit, uncertain before he pushed through his question.

“Worried about him?” The cat blushed, as if being worried about someone was something to be embarrassed about. Taking a sip, you assessed how well your friend was doing. He’d been a bit clingier since but otherwise, normal. “He’s okay, I think. Just needs to know we got his back. Did he tell you?”

“About who those guys were workin for? Yeah.”

“Yeah. So, you already know that he was blaming himself for it. Told him that was bullshit but…” Logic and reassurances were sometimes never enough to combat the whispers of the mind, the parts that loved to torture you. Anger rushed to the forefront of your hazy mind, anger at Valentino and those sharks. If you had the power to rip them apart…

“‘Bout the best you can do for him, kid. He’s got a self-destructive streak but he’ll pull through. Not a bug you can squash that easy.” Husk understood your concerns, eyes scanning the crowd in the general direction Angel had sauntered off to. A trace of admiration danced on at the tip of his smile before it disappeared behind a swig of his bottle.

It was rare to see him openly concerned and you melted a little at knowing there was at least one more person in Angel’s corner. “Who needs a therapist when he’s got you, eh, Husk?” 

“Yeah? Well my rates ain’t cheap.” You were starting to better understand the cat, you thought. Despite his gruffness at personal talk, he really did care. At least, he cared for the people in the hotel a bit more now. 

“Would a hug be good enough payment?” You didn’t wait for the barman to confirm, already reaching out to him. Used to your need to give physical affection, his paw just landed on your face, pushing you back. 

“How about you stay on your side of the bar and try not to fall over?” He sounded annoyed, but the gentle push he gave said that he took no offense to your offer. Oh well. Maybe you could go give Charlie and Vaggie a hug when you saw them.

The world swayed a bit as you sat back down, absently watching the lights bounce off the alcohol display behind Husk, mind a bit fuzzy. Actually, everything was swaying a bit too much, and you found yourself tilting over, a sharp pain going through your leg and shoulder as you instinctively tried to hold onto the counter and stool as you fell. That paw that had pushed you back was suddenly lunging to catch you but it would be too late…

“Careful there, sweetheart. Didn’t you say you’d do your best not to reopen your wounds tonight?” Hands steadied you mid fall. A sense of relief washed over you at hearing that static-laced drawl and you added ‘comforting’ to the mental list of adjectives you’d associated with Alastor’s company. Your arm hurt and so did your leg and with their pain came that needling hunger. Your mood immediately plummeting at its return, contemplation forgotten.

“Geez, sweet cheeks. Don’t drink so much if you can’t hold your liquor.” A prickle of irritation bloomed in your mind at Mimzy’s admonishing tone. If you hadn’t been injured, this much alcohol wouldn’t have been a problem at all.

“I’m fine. Thanks Al. Just had a bit of trouble catching myself for a second.” Shrugging off your friend’s hands, you sat upright in the chair. You needed to get rid of that sourness in your stomach and his presence wasn’t helping. Shoving a strawberry in your mouth, you were sorely disappointed when the fruit did not stave off that hunger like it did earlier. Your irritation grew. Couldn’t you just enjoy this evening in peace? The up and down waves of your mood this evening were tiring you out and you almost wanted to call it a night. Your annoyance must’ve been obvious as Mimzy sat beside you, her round face cradled on one hand as she regarded you, amused.

“I take it Alastor here was a tad too late saving you from those loan sharks, huh?”

“How’d you know about that?”

“How? Honey! Who doesn’t know about that? You broadcasted that SOS for all of Pentagram City to hear! Takes a lot of guts to go on this guy’s broadcast like that. I gotta say I’m impressed.” The woman laughed a bit shrilly, genuinely impressed by what you’d done but something nagged at the back of your mind so the compliment slid right over you.

“No. Not that part. How’d you know it was loan sharks attacking? I don’t think we ever mentioned who it was.”

“Oh. That. Well. Haha.” Three pairs of eyes looked in Mimzy’s direction, the woman looking sheepish under the scrutiny. “So you remember those sharks y’all took out for me last time? Well, more of them came back. The one leading the gang wanted to know where his brother was and well…”

“Well?” You prompted, mind immediately jumping to many conclusions but holding back your reaction until she finished.

“I told him the truth. You pushed the guy and got Alastor to kill him. A couple of days later, I heard the broadcast and figured that those goons went lookin’ for ya when Alastor wasn’t around. But he sorted it all out, didn’t he? I knew he could.” She cooed, making an innocent face as she tried to giggle off the incredulous look you were probably giving. 

“Wait, so you sent them our way and you didn’t even bother to warn us?” Things made sense now. Why else would anyone be looking for you?

That irritation that simmered in you all evening boiled over into full on rage with every twinge of pain and hunger you were currently feeling. All of this, the ruined party efforts, putting your lives in danger, getting shot and feeling like shit was all because this bitch couldn’t bother to give you a heads up that some gang was looking for you? Angel’s guilt, the pain you’d been enduring—They could have been avoided if she’d just been assed to let you know.

“I mean, ya got Alastor, The Radio Demon . How was I supposed to know that they’d be dumb enough to go after ya? Sides, y’all made it out okay.” With a flippant tone, she eyed you up and down. “More or less.”

“More or less? Bitch, we almost fucking died! I got shot! You sent them this way and didn’t warn us!?” How could she be so callous!? 

“Hey! It was your fault that guy’s brother died. I wasn’t the one who threw him down the balcony.” You were mad enough when she tried to laugh off the whole thing but pushing the sole blame on you? The audacity of this woman!

“I was saving your sorry ass !” Anger, irritation, pain, hunger, shock. It was dizzying to be hit by all of those feelings at once. They clawed for a way to be expressed, an outlet, and Mimzy’s face looked like the best one.

Alastor’s POV

Dancing with Mimzy was, well, not boring. The woman danced like her feet were on fire, but his mind barely paid her any attention. Just enough that he was properly dancing as she’d asked. 

He hadn’t been able to outright refuse her invitation when he’d been the one to invite the petite woman to perform for them this evening. That would have been rude to his old friend. Instead, he had hoped Ynna would refuse in his place, but the goat was no mind reader and she had no reason to speak on his behalf. The woman just let him go…like they hadn’t been having the most pleasant time they’d had all evening. 

No matter. It was just one dance. He could go back to his quiet corner with his goat once it was over. He was sure the little darling was already missing his riveting company after being left alone like that. Just to check, his eyes strayed from Mimzy to where Ynna sat, just in time to witness her NOT missing him at all. 

The woman laughed at Husker, the grump scowling as they spoke. What could they possibly be talking about that even that sour face wasn’t deterring Ynna’s friendliness? He stopped dancing, an excuse made to his friend as he walked back. She even attempted to hug the cat. His steps got quicker. He could tolerate her cuddling Angel Dust, barely. But Husker? When he’d been beside her all that time but she still hadn’t bothered to ask him .

It was just in time too that he returned, catching her as she teetered off her seat.

Now, the aura of sinner energy burned where his hands hovered over Ynna’s back. In her rage, her other eyes opened and teeth sharpened to threaten Mimzy. It was a sight that had his heart racing. She looked ready to tear the stout woman apart. Such passion! Such heightened emotion! Such drama! And all from the woman who had been giggling like a little fool just moments ago. While a fight would certainly liven this party up, he unfortunately couldn’t let the goat start one. She would regret it when Charlie admonished her for it later. Oh but he would have loved to see it!

Feeling his goat pull away to lunge at her target, he grabbed her, one arm around her waist and the other over her mouth to stop the growling shout that she aimed at Mimzy. In angered reflex, her mouth snapped shut, teeth sinking into his fingers where he’d put them a little too close. 

Time froze. He hadn’t intended that. 

A fuse blew in his mind as he felt Ynna’s fangs pierce through his skin, blood immediately pooling to the surface. He wasn’t prepared for the pricks of pain that traveled up his arm, a ball of pure static shooting through his body. It was delightful. Better than he could have imagined. 

The goat froze his grasp, that burning energy of hers fizzling out like an extinguished candle in her shock. Her small hands came up to pull his bitten fingers away and his muscles tightened before he could think. Not yet. He couldn’t let go of that wondrous feeling yet. His arms enclosed around her even tighter, her back hitting his chest as he pulled. Under the guise of keeping her from attacking Mimzy, he kept his injured hand over her mouth, a gasp almost eking past his lips at the burning touch of her lips. 

She was so small and warm and absolutely unhappy, struggling in his hold like a snake trying to wriggle free. She even licked his palm, thinking that would disgust him enough to let go. It only made him want to cage her in his grasp even more as he shuddered at the warm brush of her tongue. It took a long concentrated breath for him to regain his bearings. Swiftly, he pulled his mask back on, a feat made difficult by the buzz of the alcohol and the frantic buzzing in his chest but he succeeded, years of practice giving him that advantage. But only just.

Keeping his angry goat restrained, he turned to Mimzy who watched the interaction with shock. 

His earlier chagrin at being taken away to dance returned as he’d now confirmed his theory. The sharks had come for revenge but only because Mimzy had pointed their guns in Ynna’s direction. Naughty little thing. If she’d told those goons that he had killed their friends, they wouldn’t have come and instead, taken their revenge on Mimzy and her lounge. By giving them Ynna’s name, they had a new victim to extract their pound of flesh from. It was expected behavior from his old friend but one he could not tolerate as it had put Ynna and his project in danger.

“Mimzy, dear. I know I always help you when you get yourself in trouble but I don’t appreciate you involving Ynna or the hotel in your problems.” Both women froze and he used all his restraint to keep the buzzing in his chest to a minimum as Ynna moved in his hold to look up at him. Sparks were flying under his skin as her breath warmed his palm, a glimpse of her confused and furious gaze hammering away at his composure. ‘Let me at her!’ Those eyes whispered.

“Oh come on, Alastor. It’s just a couple of scrapes. And it’s not like I was lying, that last punk did die cuz the little sweetie pie here let you know he was still alive.” True as it was, and he relished that memory, he would not tolerate harm befalling his goat. It was best to nip any of his old friend’s notions about pulling a similar stunt in the future in the bud.

“I think you should leave, dear.”

“You can’t be serious. I’m the fucking headliner for tonight!” The stout woman stomped her foot, voice pitching shrilly in her fit. That seemed to spark some more fight in his goat as she tried to jerk forward in his hold. Now, he was actually holding her back from a fight. Who knew she had it in her to brawl? He minutely tightened his hold on her waist, a thrill shooting up his spine when she tried to speak against his hand, teeth and lips brushing against his bleeding fingers. 

“And this party was for our guests to enjoy themselves but as you can see…” Ynna struggled against his hold, madly whacking at his arm to get him to let her go. “...you’re causing our dear guest here a lot of distress. So I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to take your band and get out of here.” He was sure that his restraint of her was causing her more distress than Mimzy’s presence was at the moment but he didn’t want to risk her going into a drunken brawl with the demoness. He didn’t think he could spare his dear friend if Ynna bit her in a desperate move. Not with the way his mind was whirring trying to keep calm when all he wanted to do was shove his bleeding fingers into his goat’s mouth, to feel the glide of her tongue against the cuts she’d made. A delicious shiver ran down his spine to his tail. He even toyed with the idea of enraging her more if only she’d bite him again…and he really was a bit too drunk, playing with such a dangerous idea.

He let some of the manic energy he was feeling leak through, just enough to let his old friend know that he was serious. The pudgy woman threw curses at him as she got the message. He couldn’t care less for her anger. She was bound to come crawling back when she needed help anyway. As she stomped away, violently brushing through the crowd to call her performers down, he tried to find a solution to their lack of entertainment. The woman in his arms didn’t make thinking straight any easier.

“Husker. Go tell that snake to put on some of the earlier music. I’ll inform Charlie about the changes in tonight’s program.” The cat, who’d always had a bone to pick with Mimzy, was all too happy to oblige, jumping over the bar to find the snake sinner. 

He had only a few seconds to savor this moment alone with his goat before Ynna went slack, leaning her full dead weight on him just enough to lightly topple their balance and loosen his grip on her. With great reluctance on his part, the goat was set free. His hands immediately went behind his back, a conscious effort not to pull back her little warmth as she pulled away from him. He even manifested his microphone just to have something to hold. 

“What the fuck Alastor?”Annoyed eyes turned to him, put off and annoyed but no longer angry. A small growl trailed her question, the sound rumbling through his already buzzing chest. Her lipstick smeared over her frowning mouth along with his blood, the red hue all the more beautiful on her sweet face. Sparks danced in his mind (or they could just be the flashing lights), suddenly feeling energized and refreshed compared to the lull that the whiskey had put him in. Awakened and focused. He had a show to run and a woman to appease.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart. Couldn’t have you jumping little ol’ Mimzy. You’d lose that fight.” 

“Fine. I get that, but you didn’t have to hold me down like that.” A hand came up to wipe at her mouth, his red rubbing off onto her palm. Seeing the stain, her annoyance softened to that ever so dear sweetness of hers. “Shit. I bit you. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright.” It was more than alright. He felt electric at the sight of her, the twinge of pain on his fingers still hot from her breath. “I thought you’d get carried away after getting so drunk.” A red handkerchief was immediately conjured and offered to her to wipe her mouth with. She’d tried to offer it to his injury first but he’d stopped her sweet fussing before it could even start. He was still savoring that bite.

“Right. Sorry. I got really wound up and mad but that’s still not a good excuse to start a fight. It was a good thing you stopped me. I was ready to kill her.” Oh be still his beating heart. Alcohol makes one honest, they say. Ynna was already very honest but this was something else.

“A few rounds of drinks makes you amenable to murder? I’ll keep that in mind, sweetheart.” He quirked a brow at her, his grin widening in mirth. The goat only huffed, still wiping her mouth clean.

“People that put my friends in danger make me amenable to murder. No drinks necessary, though they do help.” Maybe he did drink too much this evening. He was hearing his goat talk about murder so easily. And she wasn’t frazzled by the blood he knew she’d consumed, tiny amount though it was. Did Husker spike his drink by any chance or had he fallen asleep at the bar and started dreaming?

“Al! Ynna! What happened? Why’d the band leave?” Charlie pushed through the crowd with Vaggie in tow, confusion and worry etched on her white face.

He explained the situation in brief, how the attack at the hotel was brought on by Mimzy and how Mimzy had done it because he and Ynna had helped clean up after her prior.

“But why were they after Ynna?”

“Something about one of the sharks having a brother. Mimzy told them I killed the guy.” Ynna stepped up to answer, a bit of guilt weighing on her face as she answered Charlie. 

“Ya killed a guy, toots?” Angel Dust appeared, having made his way back after seeing the commotion.

“I pushed him off a balcony and Al ate him.” 

“Pfft. And here I thought you stabbed somebody.” With a little more sway in his step than usual, the spider wrapped two arms around his goat’s head and ruffled her hair. “Don’t think that matters too much, tootsie roll.” His irritation spiked at the scene, that distress on Ynna’s face melting away at the spider’s nonchalance. “So Char. What’re we gonna do about the entertainment? We got like, another hour or something.”

“Can’t we just keep using Pent’s playlist?” Vaggie answered though her eyes remained troubled at their new predicament.

“That ain’t gonna cut it. It’s the hotel’s first big event. We gotta make it memorable.” That rare tidbit of insight from the spider had everyone contemplating before he puffed up his chest and fully leaned his gangly limbs on Ynna. “Here’s an idea, why don’t me and my girl Cherri perform up on stage? Give us, like, 10 minutes and we can make something up?”

“Are you okay with that?” Though she was asking about the spider’s comfort, the princess looked too hopeful. The spider wouldn’t have been able to backtrack with that sparkly gaze aimed at him.

“Sure! You have one of the most well known actors in your hotel. It’d be a shame not to use this asset while ya got me. Been tellin ya that I’d be okay with it and no, ya ain’t exploitin me, Charlie.”

He and Ynna’s eyes met for a moment, and while a zap of delight passed through him, a subtle understanding that the spider was just drunk and wanted to show off was shared between them. The frown that had been on her face lifted into an amused smile as she glanced up at the spider still using her head to lean his weight on.

“That’s an excellent idea. For once, I agree with him. It won’t be the most unique experience but I’m sure it'll suffice in making tonight’s events memorable.” He threw in his encouragement. The plan itself was what he would have suggested and the sooner the spider left to go onstage, the less he’d have to watch him hang off of his goat like a used dish rag. As it was, he approached the two friends and offered Ynna his arm in support, noticing how she subtly tried not to put pressure on her injured leg as she stood. The electric wave of satisfaction that passed through him as she gratefully accepted felt like victory when she pulled away from the spider to lean on him instead.

The group agreed on a course of action for the evening’s program: Angel would perform a few songs with Cherri Bomb followed by a closing performance by him. 

“What’re you planning to do?” As they reseated themselves at the bar, Ynna asked. Once again, she tried to lean against the counter, rather than use him for support. But he was having none of that any longer. With a pull from his shadow, her bar stool was moved as close as it could be to his. The goat yelped a bit at being moved but the phantom ensured she wouldn’t fall as she settled into her seat, having no choice but to lean against him. She looked up at him, confused but got the hint when he nudged her silly head with his shoulder. The feeling of victory tasted almost as sweet as the warmth she exuded, settling into his side. 

With a snap of his fingers a new bottle of bourbon and a couple glasses appeared in front of them.

“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, sweetheart. You’re just going to have to wait.”

Ynna’s POV

You went through a couple glasses of bourbon rather quickly and only after you did, did Al bother to tell you that you should be sipping the liquor a lot more slowly than you had. Jerk. Whatever. It was really good stuff for something so strong. You were happily buzzed again and glad to have the man to lean on. Your head rested on his shoulder, a low hum reaching your ear from his chest. It wasn’t his static. It was something else, like the hum of a refrigerator, maybe? Whatever it was, it was soothing, a white noise that let you drown out the party and just enjoy a long moment of drunken serenity.

On your friend’s part, he’d quieted down after his first glass, sitting in that same drunken haze that matched yours. Every now and then, when one of you shifted, his hand would come over to steady you. A touch to your hip, a push on your back. Always making sure that you didn’t slip off as you let yourselves sink into alcoholic oblivion in your little corner. Come to think of it, how come no one had approached the bar at all? Surely someone would help themselves to the free liquor even if Husk was off duty for the evening.

Or maybe, even when he was being sweet and quiet as a lamb, Alastor still scared the shit out of the other sinners. He had that effect on people.

“And now for my last song of the night. I’m gonna try something a little different.” The electric pop music that had been playing as Angel and Cherri performed mellowed out and a slow soft tune started to Angel’s sweet humming. The crowd hushed, awaiting whatever song he was about to sing, its beginning a stark contrast to the energized beats he’d just performed.

Finally, a new side of me
Turned a new leaf underneath my tree

A slow song. You sometimes heard him hum it, at times when he’d let a bit of his melancholy through the mask that was Angel Dust. With effort, you turned in your seat to better view your friend as he sang a heartfelt piece.

I now see life's a beautiful dream
Gives me strength, gives me ease, all in a year
Of disease, I have thrived
Lucky me

The lyrics rang true for you. It had been a tough year. From dying to landing in Hell. The despair. The fear. But now you sat here among demons and deviants, friends and sinners alike, feeling more at home than you’d ever remembered being.

Kiss me, hold me, that feeling is holy
Nobody's loved me like you

Onstage, Angel looked forward, eyes on a certain bartender who’s tail swished back and forth. Why were all your friends so cute? You wondered when the two would get together. The song came to an end followed by applause from the crowd. You almost tipped forward trying to clap as loudly as you could but a certain shadow caught you, its owner giving a more muted applause to your friend’s song.

“I feel like I underestimated our dear Angel’s talent. I didn’t think a song like that would be his style.” Of course the man wouldn’t. He had this prejudice against men that you’d only noticed after being around him for so long. You thought that he and Angel could get along more if your spider friend would stop with the inappropriate jokes long enough.

“You’re up next. Think you can top that performance?” Your support stood up from his seat, your comfortable perch about to leave for the stage. He at least put you back into your wheelchair so you weren’t at risk of toppling over again.

“I’m sure Angel has another person in mind for topping him.” You snorted. Scratch that. Angel just needed to stop coming onto Al and the two would be best friends. The man straightened his appearance, looking right and proper. You could barely tell he was drunk, just barely, and only because you’d sat next to him all evening watching him consume glass after glass of whiskey and bourbon. “But I’m sure you’ll enjoy my performance.”

With a wink, he shadowed over onto the stage, commanding everyone’s attention by bringing all the spotlights to him. Angel and Husk found their way back to the bar, settling in with you to watch the show. Your new perch took Alastor’s abandoned seat, lower pair of arms steadying you as you rested against him. Angel thought it was funny that you were a cuddly drunk but the man didn’t want to admit that he was also snuggly after he’d reached a certain point. 

“Did Smiles tell you what he had planned?”

“Nope.” You turned to Husk who was glancing at the stage with a frown, brows furrowing deeper the more he looked. “Husk?”

“I got a bad feeling…”

“Good evening everyone and thank you for attending our little shindig. That was a marvelous performance from our dear guest, Angel Dust. Can we get another round of applause?” At his prompting, the crowd cheered much to the enjoyment of your friend who puff led his chest fluff in pride. “Now, to finish off the evening, why don’t we get some laughter in the house?”

“Oh no.” Husk groaned, head thumping on the bar. He proceeded to chug the closest liquor bottle in a bid to pass out quickly. If he was being this dramatic then…

“What’s a cow’s favorite place of entertainment?” Red eyes scanned hopefully at the stunned crowd. “The moo-vie theater! Haha. No good? How about this next one? Why shouldn’t you wear glasses when you play football?” Very few people found the jokes funny and you were one of them, a grin splitting your face as you realized this would be his set.

“I don’t know, Al. Why shouldn’t you?” Ever a supporter of dad jokes, you played along. Your deer friend was thrilled by your participation. “Because it’s a contact sport!” Canned laughter echoed from his radio chest, supplementing the lack of laughter from the crowd. You had no qualms about joking the prerecorded chuckles. 

“You know, they call me the fabric version of King Midas. They say everything I touch becomes felt.” Walking along the stage, he made use of the space and you just enjoyed his theatrics and his puns. Tears were starting to stream from your eyes.

“What’s the difference between a piano, a tuna and glue?” Oh. You knew this one. “You can tuna piano but you can’t piano a tuna!” The crowd groaned though no one had the guts to heckle the Radio Demon. 

“What the heck does glue have to do with anything?” Except maybe Angel who was complaining next to you as you laughed, delighted that someone else set that up nicely for the comedian.

“I’m glad you asked. Everyone gets stuck on that one.” Your insides hurt from laughing, at the joke, at the crowd’s annoyance, at Alastor’s shameless delivery, at Angel’s disgusted face. Oh, it was excellent.

“Why did Norway start putting barcodes on their ships?” And he just kept on going. “So they can Scandinavian.”

“What’s made of leather and sounds like a sneeze? A shoe!”

At this point, people started leaving. Not one to be put out by a tough crowd, Alastor just kept going, waving to the departing sinners as they went. “I see. We have reached that point in the evening as it’s gotten late. Do be careful of the stairs on your way out. They’re always up to something.” 

You would have happily died a second death from laughter.

Chapter Text

Alastor’s POV

Bitter. The taste lingered on his tongue when the toffee notes of his bourbon subsided. Combined with the delightful twinge from the open cuts on his fingers, it was exquisite . The night had ended wonderfully, well beyond what he had anticipated. Not only had he gotten a chance to introduce Ynna to Rosie, he’d also managed to keep the goat’s company the rest of the evening. As their little hotel group gathered for a few ‘last’ rounds of drinks, she happily spent that time tucked against his side. 

Yes, an excellent evening. He hummed with satisfaction, a buzz of contentment sparking in his mind to the tune of his pulse. Ever so slightly, he pressed the cuts on his fingers, feeling their sting alight anew. If only he could stop them from healing. 

“Here’s…here’s one: why do doctors hit your knee with a h-hammer?” His gaze turned down to the woman sitting across her wheelchair, hooves dangling off one armrest while she rested her back on the other. An awkward posture given the lack of support the wheelchair had but she did it, all so she could look at him while he pushed her down the long red hallways back to her room. 

“Hmm. Because they kneed to?” Her raucous laughter washed over him, an absolute joy to hear and—.

He stopped himself. Joy. Was he feeling joy for getting such happy laughter from his goat? He’d only ever felt it around a select few without someone’s suffering involved. Yet here was proof that beyond his desire, Ynna also brought him joy. It was such a pure emotion, he almost physically recoiled.

“No! Haha! It’s because they get a kick out of it!” Almost before she could finish the punchline, she already started to devolve into giggles, little hooves kicking merrily as she did. When was the last time someone enjoyed his company so simply, without him needing to perform or be on guard? He supposed there was Rosie but this was different somehow. It was different with Ynna.

His eyes trailed over the still happily drunk goat. Apparently, after a certain amount of alcohol, Ynna’s drunken state moved from cuddly and quiet to babbling spontaneously. She spoke her thoughts as if she’d bottled them up all evening and waited for the perfect time to let them loose. When she ran out of words to say, she filled the gaps with humming, bits and pieces of songs he recognized and hummed along to. With drunken tunes spilling from both of them as they went, they made quite a pair.

His chest thrummed warmly. He supposed it was a bit of sentimentality brought on by copious amounts of alcohol but he liked the idea of being that with her, ‘a pair.’

Only when their silly parade had gone on for a while did her eyes turn back up to him, a sparkle alight within their depths despite the lackluster lighting. “You’re so quiet when you're drunk, Alastor. It’s so strange to barely hear you talking.”

“And you’ve caught a bit of the gab it seems.”

“Hehe. I can’t help it. I’m feeling sooooo happy right now. I still have the giggles from all your jokes.” Said giggles spilled out of her as she threw her head back until she was draped precariously over the armrest and ready to fall. Still, she had enough awareness to pull herself back into the seat before she did. 

“I think that’s just the alcohol, sweetheart.” This careless her was a delight to watch, languid yet abuzz with unused energy, teetering between uncoordinated and aware. A kind of chaos she would be too timid to show at a normal occasion but now, he bore witness to. He felt only a tad smug that she was like this now, with him alone, and not with their little group earlier. It showed a level of trust and comfort that he’d earned through their companionship.

“No no no. I’m sure I’m happy. Everyone had fun, you were super funny and even without a band—and did you see how happy Charlie was? This was a success! Everything…this was to cheer Angel and I up from the Valentino incident, right? You all did such a good job even with all the hiccups.” A serene expression took over her face, lightly flush from her mirthful laughter.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” It had been the right move to suggest a celebration and he patted himself on the back for his quick thinking at the time. And when the time came, he’d make sure to pay that moth back for his transgressions. Maybe Ynna could join in the retaliation by then too.

The idea of seeing her actually fight an Overlord properly was exciting. He was sure that with the proper support, training and utilization of her talents, she could rise in the ranks quickly enough to pose a proper threat. Though, he doubted he could convince the woman to take on souls to contract. She was too kind for that. That didn’t mean he couldn’t convince some sinners to pledge their souls to her…

His eyes turned down to her to find her big eyes holding his reflection sharply, expression otherwise blank. In the dim light, her features took on a grim hue, a true sinner instead of an innocent lamb. His breath caught at her sudden intensity. Why was she looking at him like that? Did he accidentally voice out his gruesome ponderings just now? Surely not. Even when drunk, he wasn’t that sloppy. This had to be caused by something that went through her mind. He waited for her brain to process whatever it was that had her looking so serious.

She was a bit unpredictable now that she was drunk. It was part of why it was so entertaining. What little thoughts were about to spill from her liquor-loosened lips? Something shook in his chest when he’d chanced a glance at her mouth, the stinging of his fingers flaring tantalizingly.

Before his mind could feed him some inappropriate ideas, a smile bloomed on her sweet blank face, teeth peeking behind soft lips. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, that piercing gaze that shot bolts of uncertainty into his chest unraveling to envelope him like a soft blanket instead. Everything went silent in his head as he focused, waiting.

“You are fantastic, Alastor.” The words left her mouth with breathy awe in each syllable, the sincerity in them palpable. Those eyes shined just a bit more. “Truly.” 

Click

All at once, his mind lit up in alert. Her words were spoken like she believed them a truth of the universe, undeniable and unchangeable. They had an impact, her sincerity so palpable, it was like he’d been attacked, a direct hit to his already buzzing chest. He pointedly ignored the way his heart stuttered, choosing the whispers of logic in his mind.

There was something far more important at play here: her compliment signaled a shift. Somewhere in his goat’s mind, her perception of him had shifted and he needed to grasp this moment and guide it. 

He almost cursed himself for drinking so much this evening. Why else would he be so disoriented by such simple words of praise? His sluggish mind couldn’t fathom what the best response should be. Should he feign humility? No. He wanted to encourage this behavior. Then, maybe returning the favor would be best. A myriad of compliments flew through his mind, all true words to describe his goat but he just knew; any words he could say would not reach her with the same intensity. He was left mentally floundering.

And the perpetrator of all this…Just as quickly as she’d delivered her heartfelt compliment did she turn away, curling back into that uncomfortable posture she’d adopted to sit in. Her smile remained just as small and content as she let out a giggle before humming one of the pop songs that had played that evening. So content was she that she didn’t even realize that he’d stopped pushing.

Meanwhile, his mind whirred, static crackling like a lost signal. He should have felt even more aggrieved for being left so dumbfounded but instead, he felt elated. Joyous. What to do? How could he pay her back for this wonderful wretched feeling? A hand went up to his mouth, feeling drool ease out from the hyper-wide smile his grin had contorted itself into.

Whispers from the shadows goaded him. This woman kept raising a desire to devour her. To open his mouth and chuck her into the pits of his being so he could hear her chirp those words again and again to him for the rest of his afterlife while she looked at him so blatantly sweet and trusting.

It was insane. To want something so badly like this was insanity.

Yet he was already reaching for her, claws stopping just short of the loose strands of her hair. 

“Al? You okay? You got a little something there.” A small hand reached up to point at where his drool was slipping, stopping itself just short of actually touching his face. Trusting. Respectful. Adoring. The way she looked at him was evidence of her sincerity and it spurred him into action. Very rarely did he lack for words but when he did, actions would do.

“Wait! Al-!” With quick steps, he rounded the wheelchair and scooped up the little darling, taking great delight in the immediate way her arms wrapped around his shoulders to keep herself steady. “What are you doing?”

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to dance this evening?”

“Well, yes but-”

“Splendid! I was also hoping to dance with you so why not do it now? Just leave everything to me, my dear.” With one hand to support her back and the other carrying her weight, he started his dance. It wasn’t too different from when he’d dragged her across the dance floor of Mimzy’s lounge. In fact, it was easier this way. She wouldn’t be able to step away from him this time.

I’m sitting on top of the world

I’m rolling along, yes, rolling along

And I’m quitting the blues of the world

I’m sing a song, yes, singing a song

Al Johnson’s voice accompanied their impromptu dance. He stepped forward, shimmying as he went with his poor captive goat being swayed left and right. He didn’t feel sorry for her though. Not when every giggle or squeal of delight she made sparked joy to his very bones. But just music and movement wouldn’t do. It would never be complete without the proper atmosphere. With a little bit of concentration, the hallways lights brightened and dimmed as they passed, shining an ever moving spotlight over them.

Don't want any millions

I'm getting my share

I've only got one suit, just one

That's all I can wear

A bundle of money

Don't make me feel gay

A sweet little honey is making me say

When he spun on his heel, the little thing in his arms actually threw her head back, arms extended and keeping her hold on his shoulders by the tips of her fingers. Trusting only his hold on her to keep her from flying, she let out a loud whoop as they spun like a top under the only light in the hall. It was dizzying. It was manic but so was the thrumming in his chest from emotions she carelessly, unknowingly, stoked.

He ended the spin by throwing her up into the air and catching her, one arm supporting her waist and the other behind her head. He was careful not to let her fall. 

“Well, sweetheart?” The question was unnecessary given the low chuckles coming from the goat between her little pants for air. With a grin, she took one deep breath and bellowed.

“I’m sitting on top, top of the world~!” A drunken garble of a tune but it was lovely all the same. Her arms wound themselves around his shoulders and that was all the prompting he needed to pick back up again.

Ynna’s POV

Alastor continued this wacky but sweet dance of carrying you down the hall with an occasional spin and toss. Not that much different from your last dance with the man and still just as fun, even more so without an audience to see your silly display. It warmed your heart greatly to see him so silly. 

He deserved to be this merry. For all the planning and effort he put into the party. For protecting everyone. For turning away one of his oldest friends for causing problems. He truly was a wonderful friend and your heart was bursting with affection.

“Alastor?” The man didn’t pause his stride but did stop his swaying to give you enough stability to talk. His red eyes seemed more focused on you than usual but the easy grin on his face softened their stare. “Can I hug you?” You asked timidly.

“Aren’t you already hugging me, sweetheart?” True. Your arms were already around his shoulders, the easiest way to keep yourself from being flung off the Radio Demon as he danced, but that was different from what you wanted. 

“No. I’m holding on to you. That’s different. I want to hug you, like the affectionate kind.” It was a desire that had been plaguing you for a while now, ever since you’d gotten comfortable around your friend, but one you didn’t think you should ask. However, in this moment, a song playing from his chest, a pep to his step and a smile that lacked his usual sinister mischief, you couldn’t help but want to smother him in affection the only way you knew how.

The man’s eyes crinkled and that mischievous glint in them returned. He leaned down until his face was close to yours. Probably to make you uncomfortable. Too bad for him, you were used to his casual invasion of your space at this point. You waited patiently, not backing away and letting him do as he wished. He found your lack of intimidation amusing, as evidenced by how he snorted before quickly bringing his head back.

“Well if you’re so desperate to show me some affection, I suppose I could let you. But only because I’ve become so fond of you, sweetheart.” He looked down at you from his forward facing angle, a teasing smile on his lips as he made himself sound pompous. “You don’t have to ask next time, you know. I’ll give you special permission to touch me if that is your desire.”

“It sounds so weird when you word it like that. I just wanna give you a hug.”

“I’m saying go ahead, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat in excitement. Carefully, you angled yourself in his arms to be able to give him a proper hug. The man didn’t flinch from the contact. His breath in your ear as he chuckled lowly and the warmth of his chest against yours were lovely. A tightly curled ball of anxiety that you hadn’t known had always been in your chest melted away.

You basked in the feeling of his acceptance until you both finally arrived at your room. The gentle rocking motions of his stride and his warmth had lulled you to a drowsy state. Navigating the darkness of your room, the man gently set you down on your bed and you shivered at the loss of contact.

“Cold, sweetheart?” Clawed hands rubbed at your shoulders as if to put some warmth back into them. You were too shy to admit that you missed hugging him already.

“Just a bit.” 

With a snap of his fingers, a fireplace appeared in your room, its light casting gentle shadows into the otherwise dark space. You thanked the man and bid him good night. For half a second, he seemed to hesitate, a little daze coming over him before he bid his farewell. Fair enough. He was bound to be tired after everything that happened today.

Turning to the fireplace, you began throwing your pillows into the space in front of it, careful to not throw too hard and accidentally send a cushion into the flames. When your effort was done, you tried to move off your bed to hobble over to the little nest you made, the idea of a comfy fireside sleep pulling at your tiring body. A pair of arms scooped you up causing you to squeak in surprise. Turning to their owner, you were surprised to find that Alastor hadn’t left yet.

Alastor laid you down on the pile of pillows gently, tutting about how you could have just asked for his assistance in the first place. As if to emphasize how much easier it was with his assistance, he even brought your blankets over to tuck you in. 

All at once, you felt exhausted, today’s event finally catching up to you. With heavy eyes, you thanked him again, agreeing with him but also letting him know that you weren’t so incapable that you couldn’t do this much by yourself. You vaguely heard him say something about making life more difficult than it needed to be.

The heat of the fire and the plush cushions called you into slumber. You couldn’t even bid him good night with your eyes open. Today had been great, for all the strange feelings it brought with it. You were thankful.

From your side, you heard a subtle rustling and a presence that did not leave as you had expected it to. With will power born through curiosity, you opened your eyes and took in the man casually lounging beside you. Alastor laid on his stomach, legs casually swaying behind him as he found one of your pillows to lay on. He made himself comfortable, looking lazily at you.

“Not going back yet?”

“I thought I’d enjoy this little set up you’ve made for a moment.”

“Feel free.” You turned your head to look at your companion. The fire cast a gentle glow over him, their warmth flickering over the shiny strands of his red hair. Having your permission, he even took off his monocle, settling into his position as if he would stay all evening. You honestly wouldn’t mind. When he was quiet and pleased like this, he was a comfort to have around. Well, even when he was an absolute demon wreaking havoc on offending sinners, he was also a comfort. Always protective and a showman at heart. Your creepy, whimsical, creative and fun companion. 

A flitting urge to touch him itched at your fingers. He said you were free to show him affection in your way so maybe he wouldn’t mind. You raised a hand, slow to approach so he had plenty of time to move away, and moved a couple strands of his bangs from his face. His red eyes followed your movements but made no motion to move. In fact, he seemed pleased by the action, even when your fingers brushed against his brow. It shouldn’t have felt so magical to fix your friend’s fringe but it did.

“You would have throttled me for touching your face like this a month ago.”

“Hmm. Things change so unpredictably, no? You used to bite your tongue and hide like a rat when I entered the room. I was quite disappointed to see the new resident be such a coward.”

“Which was fair since like I said, you are violent, with specific triggers.”

“Oh, sweetheart. If my dear mother heard that, she’d be so very cross. Her dear son being violent with a woman. Tsk tsk. It would break her heart.” He feigned wiping a tear from his eye, ever theatrical.

“Ha! And you being a serial killer didn’t?” A chilling pause struck the both of you almost instantly, sucking the playfulness of your banter and leaving a frightening void. You thought that you may have actually hurt him with that quip even if his smile didn’t so much as twitch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

There was a moment where he looked at you, half a second of uncertainty where your relationship hung in a careful balance. It was enough to fill you with dread that you may have touched a nerve and ruined the whole evening for you both. 

“...She didn’t know before she passed away. I’m sure she’s learned of my history since. At least, after so many decades have passed and I never appeared up there.” Nothing in his tone or expression changed but you could just tell, he was a bit solemn. “As much as it pains me to disappoint her, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

“No regrets?” It occurred to you that maybe you should have stopped probing but…the Radio Demon did not seem to mind sharing this evening. When he chattered, it wasn’t quite so personal so you couldn’t stop yourself from asking more when he so rarely seemed inclined to share.

“Not one. I even hunted down those very souls I killed up there when I got here. It was a lovely way to get acquainted with the afterlife. I was allowed to enjoy it a whole lot more than I did the first time.” Clawed fingers hovered in the air, flexing as if grasping something, a physical representation of a life being snuffed out. He grinned. A chill crawled up your spine at the raw sadism he showed, his red eyes sharply watching you. “Scared, my dear?”

Were you scared of him? You kept eye contact, staring as needles started to replace his pupils and his grin turned sharper with each breath you stayed silent. Cold tendrils of his shadows snaked up against the light of the fire, crawling over your form in that same suffocating way they did that night you angered him. But it was different. You knew he wasn’t angry. No warning bells heralding danger sounded in your head. You felt safe. You felt calm. 

He…cared about what you thought of him, it seemed. He never used to care, even going out of his way to be a menace at times for the fun of seeing you blanch. And you were okay with feeding into his need to create chaos. But if he wanted to know whether he, the way he was, frightened you…

“No.” You were probably more scared of how you weren’t bothered by him, a pinnacle of demonic being, at all.

All at once, he retracted that menacing appearance until he looked no different than a cat lounging luxuriously in front of the hearth. No words needed to be said. He was pleased with your answer. 

A warm silence stretched on from there and you watched each other. Well, looked at each other’s directions in a slightly drunken daze. He really was very pretty, all graceful lines even when you could tell he’d had too much to drink. No one would think he was a sadistic Overlord if they ever saw him like this, head on his hands as he laid on his belly, eyes drooping every now and then. You remembered how many scars he had littering his forearms and wondered if he had them before he died or received them after. And of scars…Even though his fingers were blackened, you could still spy your teeth marks marring their otherwise graceful shape.

“Hey Al?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” The demon murmured, seeming to enjoy spacing out just as much as you were.

“Sorry, again, for biting you.” The apology came out a bit hesitant. He’d gotten caught in the crossfire when you wanted to fight Mimzy, a burning anger clawing at you from your alcohol addled mind. You had wanted to punch her faux-sweet little face. She had so little regard for the damage she brought and you were so angry…angry enough to think that if you had to eat someone, you wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of her face. Instead, Alastor had gotten injured trying to stop you from doing harm. He’d even sent his old friend away for your sake.

“Oh you silly little thing. Are you worried that I’d be upset by such a small cut?” He chuckled low and filled with lazy amusement, eyes slightly mocking as they regarded you. “Haven’t I been offering you a bite all this time? I’d say this was a fortunate accident.” With the tip of a red claw, he poked where your shoulder had been shot. “You’d be all better by tomorrow if you’d drawn more blood.” Of course he’d bring up your little quirk. 

You swallowed unconsciously at the reminder. Demon blood didn’t taste any different than regular blood. It had been like licking a deep paper cut. At least, that’s how you tried to visualize it in your head. 

Feeling guilty still, you motioned for his injured hand, his curious red gaze sparking as he gave you the appendage. Up close, it was already almost fully healed. Only the surface tears remained. At least, he healed quickly. You traced the agitated skin, heart aching at the sight of them. On impulse, you brought the clawed fingertips to your lips, planting a light kiss on them where you had bitten him earlier, pouring all your sorry feelings into the gesture. “Still. Sorry for hurting you and thanks for stopping me earlier, Alastor.”

The man remained silent. It only caught up to your brain then that maybe that had been a touch too far. He had only just given you permission to touch him, after all. It had just felt right. You really appreciated the lengths he was willing to go to keep you out of trouble and seeing even this little bit of hurt on the unscratchable him spurred an urge to soothe it. Not that he needed it. It was your own desire. You waited for him to react, ready to accept whatever he did in response.

“If you’re so worried about offending me…” His voice dipped into that tone that meant he was about to say something he knew you would dislike. “...then how about we make it fair, hm? I can bite your hand then we’ll call it even between us.” 

“Sure.” You didn’t even have to think about it. You knew he was half-joking, poking fun at your need to appease and apologize, but so what? He was still half-serious and you were willing to indulge him. If he wanted to bite, then you were ready to feel that razor sharp smile on your skin.

“Here.” Raising your hand, you offered the appendage to the stunned man. It was amusing to see him so surprised. He was rarely ever flustered. He seemed to hesitate, eyes flitting from your hand to your face as if you’d lost your mind. And maybe you had. It had to say something about your psyche when you were willing to offer a cannibal a chance to sink his teeth into you. 

But with the way he glowed a soft hue in the firelight, reds sparkling with warm embers, no mischief or meanness about him, left you feeling soft for him. He really was too pretty. It was almost flattering that he wanted to bite you. He was always picky with his food.

You mentally snorted. That sounded deranged.

“You are a wonder, sweetheart. You always manage to surprise me.” Slowly, his hand wrapped around your offered one, just as careful as you were with him earlier. Silly man. He asked for this so why was he feeling so shy now? Yet the care he took with you only solidified that growing space you had for him in your heart. 

His eyes never left yours, a constant need to reaffirm your consent even as his razor sharp teeth sank into the pads on your fingers. It hurt but you continued smiling at him in encouragement. When the blood finally hit his tongue, his eyes closed to savor every drop. 

If you were being honest, you had expected him to maul your hand, vindictive kind of man that he was. But no. A light suction engulfed your fingertips as he took them into the heat of his mouth. His tongue swept gentle strokes over the cuts and his teeth did not dare to do more damage. 

You watched him in a daze, feeling the motions as the demon took his due. For a second, you imagined running your thumb over his thin lips, pushing them away to see just how far he’d sunk his teeth into you. A quiet gasp escaped your lips as a soft swirl of heat flooded your chest. 

You hoped you’d pushed those thoughts quickly enough away that the man holding your hand in his teeth couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened.

When he let go, one last lick to close the matching wounds he made, a fond smile stretched across his face, expression a touch softer than normal. Like a balm to your frantic heartbeat, the show of his fondness calmed you. Right. Friend. Alastor was a friend and you shouldn’t be thinking about how pretty he looked gently nibbling at your fingertips.

“Are we even, now?” You asked, exhausted but trying to appear nonplussed. His brows knitted for a moment, the answer looking to be a ‘no’ before he brightened again. He left a small peck at your stinging fingers, sending heat from where they landed.

“Now, we are, sweetheart.”

“Pfft. Alright.” You ignored the twinge of your heart as he winked at you, glee apparent on his face as if he’d heard the best joke in the world. A yawn escaped you and you gave in to the call of sleep. Maybe you’d be more sane come morning. “Good night, Al.” The last thing you saw before sleep finally took over was his manic smile and sleepy eyes.

Alastor’s POV

She didn’t take her hand back from him.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

It had been a month since the party with no more big incidents following. Well, aside from the occasional well-meaning but unfortunately poorly executed redemption exercises Charlie put together for everyone. The trust falls were alright, going about as expected when you ask a room of people to be vulnerable to each other. The turf war was dicey, Angel’s knife and gun lessons just barely keeping you alive. At least, Vaggie was less against you learning self-defense after seeing that poor performance.

“Hey, how about this one, babe?” Turning from the clothes rack in front of you, a white frilly dress shirt met your eyes. In the little department store you and Angel found yourselves in, the blouse stood out, looking soft and airy in contrast to the sleeker fashions. It was cute but wasn’t your style. 

“Hmm…maybe less poofy.” 

“Ok. How about this? It’s your color.” The spider held up another shirt, this one immediately sparking interest in the back of your mind. You smiled, thrilled. You knew you could rely on the man to help you with shopping.

“Ooohhhhhh!” You picked up the blouse with enthusiasm. It matched your wardrobe color and style perfectly. The fabric glided on your skin smoothly and the stitches seemed well made. This was exactly what you had been looking for to replace the one you lost due to the hotel attack. 

A little tag stuck out and you immediately investigated the price. “Noooooo.” You blanched. “Damn. It’s a little too expensive. I need to buy pants too.” With the budget you had, there was no way to afford two decently made items at that price. Still, you eyed the blouse longingly. It was perfect, but put it back on the rack anyway. Out of curiosity, Angel looked at the tag too.

“Babe, it’s not even that bad. And whatd’ya mean ya ain’t got the cash for it? Didn’t ya just drop a couple hundred on that gift for Smiles?” With two hands on his hips while the other two laid across his chest, the spider frowned at you, a bit confused. 

“Well…” Your mind immediately went to the little box nestled safely in your bag, a gift for Alastor as Angel said. While window shopping earlier, it had caught your eye and you immediately thought of the chatty demon and just had to buy it. Admittedly, it was the most expensive thing you’d bought since coming down to Hell but you rarely bought things anyway.

“Oh geez. Don’t tell me you spent most of your budget on a gift for him?” Exactly right. A blush rose to your face, feeling like the first time your parents scolded you for overspending. Angel huffed at you, rolling his eyes dramatically as he rifled through the other clothes available for something else for you. He didn’t stop chastising you, though. “Kid…I know y'all are going out and shit but he’s the Overlord here. He should be the one showering ya with gifts and other expensive junk. Make him the sugar daddy. He’s bound to be good for it.”

“We’re not going out.” You immediately corrected him. For the umpteenth time. For some reason, everyone seemed to have this idea that you and Alastor were secretly dating. Angel, in particular, had latched onto it even more after the party when he’d caught Alastor leaving your room that morning. No amount of explanations seemed to get through to your gossipy friend, much to the frustration of you and Alastor. At some point, the deer demon had just given up, taking the stance that if he ignored it, the spider would drop the subject eventually.

“You really aren’t, toots? Y’now you can tell me. I’ll even promise to keep it a secret.” He bent at the waist, leaning close and conspiratorial, eyes almost sincere except you caught a glimpse of mischief in them. Liar. You knew he had a bet going on with Husk about you and Alastor. Niffty had mentioned it offhand to you one afternoon when even she came to ask if you and the Radio Demon were an item. You prayed for patience.

“For the 100th time, we really aren’t. We’re close, sure. I’d even call him my best friend. But we aren’t an item. I mean, does he seem like the dating type to you?” Palms flat out and eyebrows raised, you asked Angel for an answer. You both knew that the deer demon never expressed any interest in romance, going so far as to yawn when everyone was gossiping. And the man loved gossip! He just didn't care for anything related to love lives. 

The spider huffed, seeing your point. “So what, you’re just blowing all your money on him just cause?”

“It’s not just cause. It’s an appreciation gift. He’s done so much for me and I thought I should get him something. I mean, I got you one too.”

“It was a charm for Fat Nugg’s collar. Not exactly bank-breaking.” He deadpanned. For a moment, your heart clenched, remembering the gift that Angel cooed so much about after you’d presented it to him. Did he think it was too cheap?

“T-that…D-did you not like my gift?”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant!” The spider was practically a white blur as he moved, quick to hug you when he’d realized how awfully shallow he sounded. You were a little hurt by the statement but the way his arms rubbed up and down your back reassured you that he was sorry. “I mean, I literally watched ya spend almost an hour picking that gift out and then now ya tell me, ya used all your money on it and can’t afford to buy yourself something nice.” He pulled away to look into your eyes. “And this whole shopping trip was for ya to get something nice for yourself. That’s why you were saving up, right?”

“I—he deserves it though? He’s always helping me out, especially when I was injured. And he’s been a terrific friend. I always have so much fun when we hang out and not only that, he cooks for us too.” It wasn’t difficult to find reasons to justify your purchase, memories of lunch dates, jokes and nights spent doing chores to the sound of the radio playing through your mind. Your heart pounded to each image, its beating stamping the word precious over each memory. Walking arm in arm around town or even just down the hallways. On flights of whimsy, you’d invite each other to dance for just a few seconds. 

Living in Hell was so easy with him. How could you not want to give him even a small token of appreciation?

“Uh-huh. Tell me again that you don’t like him, toots.”

“I really don–” Your tongue twisted on itself as you tried to utter your usual response, your thoughts still running with images of Alastor, laughing, smirking, teasing, singing…humming quietly to himself or sitting idly next to you. You choked on your own denial.

“Yeah. Yeah. You two are just friends, yadda yadda. Hey, how about this one…? Yn’s?”

The world seemed to crash around you and piece itself back together as a new feeling took root in your heart, strong and overwhelming. Your face felt hot, a mixture of happiness and understanding and deep anxiety flooding your system. Oh no. Oh no.

“Oh no.”

“Oh no?” Angel parroted, confused. Your eyes darted to meet his as your hands immediately took hold of his upper arms, needing something to steady yourself against the onslaught of fearful realization.

“Oh no. Angel! I-I like him.” You almost croaked over the three syllables, disbelief still vaguely floating in your mind. When did you fall for the Radio Demon? How? 

“Finally! Took ya long enough to get it, toots. Guess you two can finally move on to…why do you look like that?”

“I-I’m scared.” In front of him, you trembled, panic settling in.

“Why?” His lower arms slid your arms to your shoulders, comfortingly trying to ground you as your eyes started to sting.

“He doesn’t like me. Not like that, at least.”

“Whatd’ya mean? Bitch! You're like his favorite person. He’s practically glued to your side all the fucking time. I think everyone and their blind dog sees how much he likes ya.”

“No. No. You don’t get it Angel. He’s…” You tried to grasp for words to express what you’d come to know from your…friend. (Crush? No. A crush seemed too childish for how at home you felt around him.) “He’s never shown any interest in romance. Once, I asked him if he’d ever dated and he said it wasn’t his style. And…and while I’m his favorite at the hotel, isn’t that just because his other friends don’t live nearby? I’m sure he’d hang out with them just as much if they lived in the same place as he did.”

“Hey hey. None of that self-deprecating bullshit. If Smiles wanted to hang with his other friends, he’d find a way, don’t ya think? So don’t sell yourself short on that end at least.” His mismatched eyes stared pointedly at you, always quick to stop you from thinking less of yourself.

“Fine. But I still don’t think he likes me. He’s old fashioned, insists on being a gentleman. If he liked me that way…he’d have made a move by now. Chivalry and all that. So…he probably doesn’t.” The fear of your feelings settled, leaving a pit where your heart had been squeezing with excitement and dread just seconds ago. You realized why you were afraid of this revelation. What was the use of falling in love with him when the man didn’t love you back? 

Your bag suddenly felt heavy. Taking out the culprit of the sudden weight, you held a small box, just slightly bigger than your palm. The owner had been kind enough to tie a crimson ribbon around the cardboard shell, shiny satin smoothed over a dark purple exterior. The gift you had meant to give Alastor as a token of your friendship.

“I need to return this.” What was just an hour ago, an object that filled you with fluffy delight now felt ominous. It felt too heavy in your hand, bearing feelings the man, your friend, wouldn’t be able to, shouldn’t have to, bear. 

Bitterness creeped up your throat at imagining him feeling awkward around you if he came to know about your feelings. He valued a sense of propriety, lines he was willing to cross with his friends but you weren’t sure how he’d feel if the other party was interested in him romantically. He might distance himself, no longer comfortable showing his fondness in case it was perceived as anything but platonic. Even worse, he could end your friendship entirely and you’d lose your most treasured companion. Your eyes felt hot, stinging as you pre-processed a heartbreak before it could be served to you.

He wouldn’t be able to return your feelings. You just knew it. And you weren’t willing to risk losing what you already had with him by holding on to those emotions.

“Whoa. Hold on there, Yn’s. No need to go that far. Let’s take it back a couple a steps, yeah?” Angel, having watched the rapid shifts in your demeanor, put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you grounded as your mind flew. His eyes bored into yours, vying for your focus which you readily gave if only so you could stop the stinging creeping up your nose.

“So you love Alastor.”

You nodded, heart fluttering again at the acknowledgment of your feelings.

“And you’re sure he doesn’t like you back or at least, isn’t interested in a relationship.”

You nodded again, the dip of your chin as heavy as the sudden dip in your feelings. Fuck. This was too much. How easily a few words sent you into a downward spiral. Your throat hurt and your eyes were starting to get blurry. Were you seriously about to cry in the middle of a department store on a Tuesday?

“Are you planning to tell him? Do you even want a relationship with him?” His hands gently cupped your face, as if readying himself to start wiping away your tears but his words put a stop to them immediately.

“I…” It was like a break was pulled, slowing the wild tumbling of your emotions until it gave you pause. Your silly mind provided one of Alastor’s record scratches to emphasize the halt in your train of thought. 

What did you want out of your newfound feelings for the Radio Demon? 

“I honestly don’t know.” Came your answer as you tried to ponder that question.

“Well, think about it for a sec before you go all panicky like that. Ya might do something you’ll regret.”

Taking your friend’s advice, you stepped away from the racks to find a spot to sit. You eventually found a bench, a metal one with holes punched throughout, by the changing rooms. You plopped yourself down with little regard for grace. There was too much on your mind right now to care that you’d sat yourself down too quickly and hurt your butt in the process.

So you loved the Radio Demon, with his charming smiles and his sinister mischief…Did you like his sinister side? The monster he was beneath the dapper shell, eating sinners and enjoying their misery and torture. A shiver ran up your spine at the memory of when he’d turned that nightmarish appearance on you in what felt like so long ago. But in the same vein, his demonic self had saved you twice and it no longer brought about the same choking fear that it did just over a month ago. 

Caution. Not fear. Even his most terrifying side only brought about a healthy dose of caution from you, accompanied by admiration for his abilities and how he wielded them. He was fearsome and awe-inspiring even when he was covered in guts and viscera. Fuck. Wasn’t that a kicker too? That you could like him even when he was an absolute terror let loose upon the Pentagram. 

Your feelings ran much deeper than you thought. 

With an exasperated sigh, you ran a hand down your face, the motion loosening your frown and furrowed brows just a tad. With your feelings the way they were, what did you want to do with them? The immediate thought was to confess but was that really the way to go about it? What would confessing bring you?

The man you knew was adverse to romance and while he treated you as a very close companion, you’d never sensed any other intentions there. Other than him hoping you’d one day try your powers using him. But you chalked that up to him being a cannibal and enjoying the misery of bringing a non-cannibal into his ‘culture’. His sense of humor had always been twisted like that.

Other than that…

“It’s not everyday I find someone capable of being my friend.”

He’d told you that day he gave you that blood potion. Cut himself up to make something to heal you with after you almost experienced a second death at the hands of Valentino. Then from that day on, he was by your side with his jokes and snide cheer, giving you peace and laughter. He dressed your wounds and kissed your forehead when you cried. Trusted you enough to see him disheveled and relaxed. Did you want more from him than that?

No. Not really. 

“What more could I want from him?” You muttered out loud, as if the answer would come to you by speaking your query into the world. 

“I don’t know. Sex?” 

“Angel…” The world answered in the form of your friend. You didn’t realize that he’d followed you.

“What? Ya asked. You two practically do everything together so I figured the horizontal tango is the only thing you haven’t done.” He shrugged, leaning against the dressing room wall next to you. For once, he didn’t have a sleazy grin on his face while talking about sex. 

“I don’t think he’s even interested in sex. Like, at all.” 

“Whatd’ya mean he ain’t?”

“Other than romance, it’s the only other topic where his eyes just gloss over like he’d rather be anywhere else. Complained about how vulgar it was and how fixested everyone was on it when I asked him.” Thinking back on all the times anyone had ever brought up sex, which was surprisingly often, the man had all but blanched behind his plastered smile. On more than a few occasions, you saw his shadow looking ready to strangle Angel for one sex joke too many. When you’d broached the topic to him, wanting to know why he seemed so averse, he just thought it distasteful. Didn’t want it for himself with all its messiness. 

That, you could understand. From your few experiences, it had barely been worth the clean up after.

“No way. Smiles actually told you that?” He sat down next to you, leaning in like you were lying to him. You booped his nose, pushing him back gently.

“Yep. So no. Even if he did like me back, I think sex would be off the table.”

“Well, ya never know.” The spider shrugged, still not completely convinced. You thought that even if Alastor told him directly, he’d never truly believe it.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever know.” You leaned back, enjoying the cool feel of the wall behind you before you felt the bumps and heard muffled grunting. Of course, someone would think to have sex in there. You grimaced before standing up to move away. “I don’t plan to tell him.”

“Well, love’s not all that anyway.” The spider followed, sashaying as he said so. From him, it sounded more like saying they printed on a banner or coffee mug. Cheesy but you had to agree in this situation.

“Yeah. We have a good thing going here. What more could I get from confessing?” Each step you took eased away your sadness and apprehension, gradually feeling lighter as you focused on the good things. Like how blessed you were to have Angel and Alastor as your friends.

“You can call him yours. Stake a claim and shit. Bet you’d look real cute all possessive over your boyfriend.”

“Pfft.” 

Eyeing the box still in your hand, you tried to channel the feelings you’d felt when you’d laid eyes on it and decided to get it for your friend. Your friend. It was all about appreciating him and letting him know he mattered to you, that his friendship was a blessing you never thought you’d find after first waking up in Hell. 

The feelings this little present carried…they were never romantic and didn’t ever have to be.

Pink gloved fingers closed your hand around your gift, as if asking you to hold on. “Just give it to him, Yn’s. I think you’d be happier if ya got to say how much you appreciate him than if ya shied away cuz feelings got involved.”

“You’re right.” You let out a long sigh, relief and exhaustion leaking out of you after working through the sudden roller coaster of your feelings. “I got ahead of myself there. I never had to tell him about my feelings.”

Like a cool balm on a stinging wound, the pained throbbing of your prematurely broken heart settled with those words. It was so new for you to fall in love first that you’d let yourself get carried away by the flood of your newly revealed feelings. Why did you immediately think of confessing to the man? Why did you immediately think that your relationship could only be as lovers or nothing at all? It was terribly inflexible. Like a bad romantic skit that denied that people could just be companions.

“I mean, you still could, in the future. If you change your mind.”

“Yeah. But this…I’m fine with this. Us.” So caught up in your emotions, you forgot that you didn’t need to act upon them at all. Nothing needed to change just because your feelings had a new name. Things could remain as they were and you could love Alastor still, quietly, in the privacy of your heart. You needn’t get swept away by romantic notions. 

“Well good, now come on. Wasted half an hour on that drama and we still haven’t gotten you a new wardrobe.” He snapped his fingers, brusk in a way that told you he was taking this chance to steer you away from sad truth bombs. “I’m buying you shit, by the way.”

“What? No. I have my allowance.”

“Uh-tut-tut. I’m getting ya new digs. Now, hush.”

He pressed a finger to your nose and the crisis in your heart was completely averted.

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

“I’m almost sad I missed it.” Alastor walked beside you as you strolled to the new cafe you would try today. 

He'd taken to teleporting you both a little ways from your destination so you could stroll around the city for a bit. You were happy to go along with his whims, noticing how you both enjoyed walking and observing people when you were out. Under the glow of the pentagram, the crowded streets were actually quite peaceful despite the number of sinners out and about. 

“It was mildly traumatic and I almost died, twice.” You recounted the turf war with dramatic whining. 

“Only mildly traumatic? Guess there wasn’t much to miss after all.” A chuckle and laugh track sound through his chest, a bemused and mildly snide thin-lipped smile on his face. The man had gone off to a meeting or something and skipped that particular exercise.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed a sinner busy staring at their phone about to walk right into Alastor. Putting your hand on his pin-striped arm, you stirred your friend out of the path of collision. He side-stepped with you, your twin paces not faltering with the adjustment. 

The snide crook of the man's smile softened after seeing what you did, his own hand coming to rest lightly atop your hand on his arm, almost like he wanted for you to keep it there. Warmth bloomed in your chest as his arm adjusted to fully loop around yours and you continued weaving around sinners. It was like a dance, the way he guided you both in rhythm and sway through the inattentive crowd. Your heart chirped a pesky coo of love at each step and you tried not to linger on its song, just focused on enjoying this easy friendship.

“Meh. I guess you wouldn’t have liked it. It was tough for me but that kind of battle would be easy for you.” There had been bombs thrown and guns out. For an exercise to build trust, it had been deadly for someone as weak and inexperienced as you.

At the acknowledgement of his strength, Alastor’s eyes narrowed slightly, the buzz of static groaning louder for a second. It was his way of very subtly enjoying a compliment gracefully. To complete his act, he even looked away, seeming uninterested, but you knew better.

“I did stab a guy, though.” Grinning internally, you threw that tidbit of your experience out there, knowing how much amusement your friend found in seeing you get violent. As expected, his ears perked up slightly after hearing you admit to assault. His elbow squeezed, the small tightening of his arm around yours a signal for you to elaborate. The way his eyes shined ever so slightly made you almost proud of what you did. Almost. The reality, however, was that the event left a bit of a shadow in you.

“It was in self-defense and I ran away before seeing if he actually died from it…” It was still clear in your mind, the masked dog sinner about to whack you with a spiked bat. The panic, the need for survival. The scent of smoke in the air and the pools of blood on the ground. A very true sense of kill or be killed blaring in your mind. 

“...but yeah, putting those knife skills to use.” Your narration lacked enthusiasm as you remembered the sensation of your knife plunging into flesh. It had been necessary at the time and you hadn’t hesitated. Looking back on it now, it felt surreal that you were able to commit such brutality. Did it count as a sin if you killed someone in self-defense? The things that you become accustomed to after falling into Hell…

“Congratulations on taking a stab at something new, I suppose.” Sensing the disturbance in your demeanor, the man threw his usual pun. It took you a moment to snap out of it but it seemed a moment too long for him. His free hand was already pinching your cheek before you could react, trying to force a smile on your face. The pinch was gentle. “Oh come now, sweetheart. No frowning on a lovely day like this. Continue your story. What else were the others doing while all of this was happening?” 

“Well…” You continued recounting the turf war fiasco which ended wholesome enough with battle stories and bandages exchanged between everyone. All through your tale, Alastor hemmed and hawed like a good audience member. And like a good escort, even when the crowd thinned, his arm remained intertwined with yours, offering support both physically...and emotionally. You sighed for your heart that felt just a smidge heavier. Friendship. Friendship. Friendship.

Just as you were about to reach your destination, Alastor stopped in his tracks, something catching his eye. Before you could follow his gaze, his arm turned you slightly, pushing at the small of your back to urge you along to the cafe’s direction.

“Al?”

“I just remembered a little errand I needed to run. I’ll go do that real quick.” He talked with a chipper cadence, whatever caught his eye seeming to excite him.

“Want me to come along? I don’t mind a detour.” Knowing him, there were equal odds of it being actual fun or misery. Either way, this was your daily outing in which you usually did stuff together and you were loathed to part with him.

“That won’t be necessary. It’s just at that little shop over there.” He pointed to a mildly decrepit looking store front with ‘Old Crap’ written on the sign. An old radio sat in front of the window and you wondered if that’s what your friend wanted. Maybe that would have been a better gift than the one that still sat at your desk back at the hotel. “Why don’t you go ahead and grab us a table and order, sweetheart?”

“Okay. See ya in a bit.” Seeing no reason to insist on staying, you waved as you walked away to the cafe. White cursive script decorated the front window with a red and pink awning providing shade over the front entrance. Just like the Yelp page said, the place was low key yet clean. A thin sinner with crab head (a full on king crab for a head) dressed in a white button up, black slacks and matching bow tie led you to a table and took your order. You barely took note of how his beady eyes seemed to curve and sneer as he walked away with a business smile on his face. Some people just looked mean, especially with Hell's weird anatomy choices.

Not long after, two coffees and a plate of fresh beignets covered in powdered sugar were placed on your table. Delight filled you at seeing the rare treat. Freshly fried puffs of choux dough generously dusted with finely powdered sugar. You’d come to this cafe specifically to try them as this was the only cafe on this side of town that sold the confection.

“Oh my, are those beignets, sweetheart?” Alastor manifested through the shadows in the seat opposite yours, the timber of his filtered voice almost cooing. His eyes gleamed with interest at seeing your dessert choice.

“Yes!” You cheered with a toothy grin. “Back when I was alive, I used to get these from a shop by the train station after work. On Wednesdays, there was a farmer’s market and I got fresh fruit to go with my beignets.”

“I’m not a big fan of them myself but it does bring back fond memories. Mother used to bring us out to get them on special occasions.” A blur of emotion passed through your friend’s eyes, true and genuine. Soft. A rare sight on the crafty demon but one you recognized and appreciated seeing. It tempted you to ask more about his childhood but you knew better than to pry. It was more fun to collect and weave together these little pieces he dropped every now and then anyway.

“Good memories.” The two of you shared a smile, basking in the warm feelings of days long gone. A new warmth enveloped you as the moment passed and you were thankful for the now, being able to share a fond memory with your friend despite being in a hellish afterlife. You’d like to think that Alastor shared the same sentiments, as his eyes lowered and you recognized the signs of him starting to relax.

Grabbing your utensils, you transferred the powdery treat onto your plate and took a big enthusiastic bite…only to cough something ugly a second later.

"*COUGH COUGH COUGH gasp COUGH*" A puff of dust and unchewed dough flew from your mouth as you coughed, choking. That wasn’t powdered sugar. 

“Ynna!” Immediately, a mug of steaming coffee was given to you, the same one he just drank from. There was no room to care about burning yourself, not when some dry powder coated your throat, making it hard to breathe. Grabbing the drink, you violently gargled the bitter coffee, trying to get rid of whatever it was that was in your mouth. Tears formed in your eyes from the mild burn and asphyxiation.

With no regard for how you looked, you spit it back out into your cup, immediately grabbing for a napkin to scrape the residue from your tongue. It clung everywhere. To the back of your throat, the roof of your mouth. It even felt like it was climbing up your nose.

A gentle hand firmly patted your back as you coughed and spluttered, passing you a cup of water this time. Your lungs and throat burned from trying to get whatever that was out of your system. It was dry, bitter and nasty. What the heck was that!?

“Is everything…a-alright?” As your sputtering calmed down to a desperate wheeze, the commotion brought the attention of your waiter, the same snide-looking crab from earlier. The sharpness of his tone took a nosedive as he noticed the demon who was rubbing small circles on your back.

Your tongue felt so rough and your throat worked against you to bring air into your lungs. Tears brimmed your eyes, hanging on your lashes as you focused on your breathing. You did however, point to the powder on your beignets, hoping Alastor would understand.

A red tipped index finger dipped itself into the treat, studying the powder before a long black tongue licked it. Immediately, you heard a sharp crack in his static and a whimper from the waiter as your friend turned to him.

“Is everything alright, you asked? Why, I don’t see how anything would be alright if your establishment is in the business of blatantly adultering your goods.” You could feel the tension rise next to you as the Radio Demon’s energy started leaking out. Alastor’s shadow snaked its way onto the table. It cackled madly with a frown on its jagged mouth as it glared the waiter’s way.

“I—I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t quite understand what you mean. W-We only s-s-serve food with the best ingredients.” 

“Is that so? Well I’d love for you to tell me how your establishment thinks serving sugar-laced chalk dust is a hallmark of culinary masterclass, hm?” The ominous buzz of radio static was louder now, constant and encroaching, blurring his words in obvious contempt. Shadows danced in the corners, a menacing sign of death close at hand that the other patrons heeded, running as far away as they could.

You watched this shift in your friend, the Radio Demon displaying his power, and a tingle shot through your spine. It felt like if you didn’t do something, that sinner was going to die. 

A green crackle of electricity danced at your feet. Oh, Alastor was definitely going to kill him.

On one hand, irritation and anger brewed hot at the audacity of these people to serve you something like that. On the other, did that really warrant them being killed or maimed by your friend? No. It really didn’t. So you acted, pulling on the Radio Demon’s sleeve to get his attention. His head snapped with an audible crunch in your direction, wrenching a flinch from you and any bystanders who hadn’t run away yet. Radio dial pupils flared red hot in pitch black scleras, teeth almost needle-like as they lined his overly wide-stretched mouth. Absolute horror fuel. But you still tugged on his sleeve.

“W—“ You coughed a bit, throat screaming for lubrication. “Water..” In a crackle of green magick, he summoned a pitcher and poured you a fresh glass. As you drank, forcing slower sips, his gaze stayed on you, waiting impatiently. When he looked about ready to turn back onto the poor waiter, you wrapped a hand around his arm, tugging his attention back to you. “Wait…just…”

You needed some time to recover. The water was helping soothe your irritated mouth and the gritty dryness of what you now knew to be chalk dust was starting to become bearable. Meanwhile, Alastor was getting testy, his grin narrowing just slightly as he waited for you. In a wordless effort to ask him to calm down, your thumb started rubbing circles on his arm, firmly pressing against the thick wool of his coat to convey your plea.

One thin brow ticked up at the gesture but you just continued swishing water in your mouth until your tongue no longer felt like sandpaper. Finally, after what felt like half an hour but was most likely only a couple of minutes, you looked him in his radio dial eyes.

“Let’s just go, Al.”

“Leave? I don’t think so. Not without—“ You put your hand up in a stop gesture, halting his faltering-filter speech. A bolt of cold static traveled up your arm holding him, warning of his annoyance.

“I know.” Staring into his menacing eyes, you reassured  him. While you didn’t want the sinner to die, it’s not like you intended to just leave without complaining. “Let me handle this.” You turned to the scared sinner. 

He hadn’t dared to scoot away from the imminent danger in front of him, either through sheer terror or force of will. He was sweating through his red shell, glancing between you and the Radio Demon who still looked a lot sharper and deadlier than he had when he’d first sat down.

“Hey you, does the owner know you serve shit like this?” 

“I-I’m the owner.” 

“Oh, even worse.” A grumble of annoyance coated your tone. Leveling a glare at the man, you took the plate of beignets from the table and shoved it into the owner’s face. He looked at you confused though less afraid than he was a moment ago. Seeing as how he was dealing with you now, he seemed to get back some of his bluster though the stiffness in his spine belied how terrified he was of the Radio Demon. With conviction, you demanded coolly. “Eat it.”

“Miss, I don’t see why that’s necessary. If there’s something wrong with the food, we can have the kitchen remake it for you.” The owner almost sneered through his faux-sweet condescending tone, still aware of the demon behind you but also seeing how you held him back. It fueled your irritation some more. He really didn’t think much of you even when you were the only thing keeping him from getting ripped to shreds.

“I don’t want to eat whatever your kitchen will make next and I want you to know the reason why. Eat. It.” The man looked ready to fight you until a crackle and snap of static reminded him of your companion. The room seemed to glow an eerie green and hackles rose on your back. You gave Alastor’s arm another firm squeeze, going back to rubbing circles on the smooth warm wool. It seemed to work in abating the danger, the glow of his power dimming a bit. 

You focused your glare at the owner, urging him to eat his shit. You only felt so much compassion and any more of his bullshit would have you letting Alastor deal with him. The crab demon finally seemed to realize that.

With a shaky hand, the owner picked up one of the abominable treats and took a bite. Almost immediately, he started choking, trying very hard to suppress his coughing as a large puff of dust shot from his nostrils. Gross.

“Exactly. Choke on that crap that came out from your kitchen. We are not paying for any of this. What the hell did you think would happen when you served me beignets with chalk dust? It’s absolutely idiotic.” You whipped out your phone and took a quick picture to use for a scathing review on Yelp later. 

The owner looked just about ready to die as he reached for the pitcher of water Alastor had conjured for you earlier. Just as he was about to take a gulp, the water turned into swamp muck, courtesy of the Radio Demon. His shadow even tripped the man as he attempted to step over to another table for water, noiselessly cackling along the way and even urging you to laugh with it.

It was mildly funny to watch the guy suffer as you did but you thought that was enough. Before he thought of some other tricks to pull on the shady businessman, you tugged on Alastor’s arm, the Radio Demon surprisingly allowing himself to get dragged out of the cafe.

Only when you were a good distance from the shop did you stop walking, hand letting go of him who reverted back to his usual self.

“You’re simply too kind, Ynna. You should’ve let me handle that situation and let those cretins running that shoddy low class joint they call a business get what’s coming to them.” Alastor straightened out his coat, casting you a critical eye as he admonished your generosity. You threw a fond glare at him, knowing that if he truly wanted to punish the cafe owner, he would’ve done so regardless of what you thought. He held back for you. Because you’d taken the lead in that situation.

“I don’t think killing him was the way to go. I’m actually pretty happy to see him choking on that thing they served. Urgggh. It was nasty.” You stuck out your tongue, scraping it with your front teeth in hopes of getting that flavor out of your mouth. It had been mildly sweet beneath the bitterness of the chalk. They most likely mixed chalk dust into their powdered sugar to skimp on sugar expenses. You may have just been the unlucky victim that received more dust than sugar, given that the cafe was highly reviewed.

“Besides, it’s not the first time that’s happened. Since you were here, I was actually able to get some payback so I’m pretty satisfied with how that went.” You smiled in a placating manner at your friend. Before coming to the hotel, you’d stumbled into some cheap places to eat in order to save money. Of course, those places cut corners everywhere and you’d been victim to many adultered foods. At the time, you couldn’t really fight back as a lone weak sinner. 

But now you had him. You had him. Your heart whispered.

You immediately put a stop to it.

“At least you knew to stick up for yourself since you had me as back up.” The demon huffed, not liking your answer one bit. If he was the type to frown, you thought he’d be giving you a very heavy one. As it was, a tight-lipped smile and unamused half-lidded eyes were turned to you and you blushed from the pressure.

“Yes. Thanks for being there with me and backing me up and not killing them.” You felt shy under his gaze, sending him a small sincere smile in hopes that he’d drop the whole thing. There was a chance he’d go back and wreak havoc on the cafe but you at least hoped he wouldn’t do it now. You turned around and hoped that he would follow. “Come on. We still have a little bit of time. Maybe we can find a different place to eat at.” 

“Just a moment.” 

“Hm?”

A clawed hand took hold of your shoulder, gently turning you back to face him. Your breath caught in your throat as your nose almost brushed against his chest. He stood unnecessarily close. So close you could smell the light scent of musk and smoky spices that you’d come to associate with him and your pesky heart stuttered at the sudden proximity.

Soft warm leather brushed under your chin, his finger lightly tilting your face up to look at him. He leaned down, coming so close that you reflexively tried to back up but the hand holding your chin kept you in place. You had no choice but to stare at him as a soft cloth touched the sides of your mouth, dabbing away with gentle strokes. Red eyes stared intensely at your face, mainly at your lips as he cleaned away whatever dirt he’d found offensive enough that he had to remove it himself. 

“There. Now give us a smile, sweetheart.” On reflex, the sides of your mouth curled up as he’d asked. From this close, you could see the faint wrinkles around his eyes as his smile stretched back into his usual grin. They made him look softer somehow. A lump formed in your throat and you could only blink in flustered confusion before he stepped away.

“Since this was a bust, shall we head over to the place I suggested?” His arm already wove around yours, a dark portal appearing even as he asked for confirmation. 

“Sure.” Willing your rapidly beating heart to calm, you agreed. You weren’t in a state to think about where to go anyway.

Alastor’s POV

The clattering of utensils mixed with the loud chatter at the dinner table. He sat at the head of the table, subtly watching everyone but mostly Ynna. 

After the whole fiasco during lunch, she’d seemed a little down, a moroseness clinging to her usually content disposition. Had she not snapped out of it by the end of their lunch hour, he would have marched them back to that shop and ripped the sham’s guts out. She would be horrified but at least she wouldn’t be sad.

His thoughts drifted back to earlier, the way her eyes held a soft gleam as she told of her time alive. Just like him, the woman rarely spoke of what her personal life had been before dropping into the fiery pits. So it was a treat to hear her softly share her fond memories. And the moment was immediately ruined by sly business practices. 

His shadow hissed in the darkness, unseen. What a wasted opportunity, though he did learn something else about the goat demon.

As an Overlord, he didn’t have to deal with petty tricks from those kinds of lowly sinners. They wouldn’t even be worthy of his broadcast by the time he was through with them. But Ynna, on the other hand, lived a very different experience in her brief time before joining their little hotel group. Weak and alone, Hell would’ve shown to her the worst humanity had to offer. She seemed used to it, but not beaten by it. She was even a little vindictive. 

A low buzz pleasantly rumbled in his chest as he chewed, remembering the stern fierceness she showed. Ah, what a thrill it was! What once was a cowardly little welp of a woman, she now had the audacity to hold him back when he was threatening someone. While he was mildly transformed at that. Hah! The gall of her. 

From her seat at the table, she glanced his way, sharing a bit of a smile before she turned back to her meal. 

The spot where she had held onto his arm tingled, soft little waves rising up from where her thumb had begged for his patience. Coupled with the steely gaze she leveled at the waiter, he could only relent as she acted. Decisively. All her mirth and gentleness gone save for those tiny gentle strokes. It was a truly entertaining sight.

“Eat. It.”

He muffled the sudden crackle in his static with a spoonful of jambalaya, savoring the spice in the dish and the sharpness in her voice. 

His goat had become so fierce, so emboldened and empowered by his presence; unafraid of everything, including him. She should always be like that, fearless  and unwilling to be disrespected. It was only natural as she was his people. 

His eyes scanned over her again, noting the almost non-existent glow of her energy. She was such a weak little sinner, yet she brought him so much delight, such pure entertainment in the littlest of her actions.

An excited grin stretched across his face as he swallowed the last of his meal. He just had to reward his sweetheart for her fantastic showing today.

“Now everyone! I have a little treat for us this evening.” With a sharp clap, shadows manifested to clear the table, much to Husker’s chagrin and everyone else’s curiosity. At the snap of his fingers, plates of cut fruit and bottles of various jams and honey appeared at the table and at the center of it all…

“Beignets!” Ynna’s voice pitched higher in pleasant surprise, her eyes immediately darting to him practically screaming gratitude in their sparkle. A matching spark fizzed in his brain.

“I thought you didn’t know how to make sweets, Al?” Charlie beamed from her seat, wiggling in delight at the new treat.

“I usually don’t but I do have a few recipes up my sleeve, though I almost forgot that I knew how to make this one. Now dig in! These are best when they’re fresh.”

Everyone plated their treats. It was a messy affair as few were used to eating them. Powdered sugar, jam and everything got everywhere, eventually ending when Niffty and Angel Dust fought for the last piece. The adult actor had to relent when the knives came out.

All the while, Ynna glanced his way multiple times, her eyes conveying gratitude and ‘look at how funny these guys are’ throughout dessert. He was never fond of sweets though he patted himself on the back for taking the time to learn a few recipes from his mother.

At one point, she had reached out to him, lightly laying her fingers on the hand he rested in the table. With his attention on her, the woman beamed a childish grin, face covered in sugar. He snorted at her silent thanks and handed her a napkin. The contact was warm and comfortable though she did leave sugar fingerprints on his glove. No matter. He discreetly licked them clean. A bit of sweetness every now and then wasn’t bad.

———

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” Between the songs playing from his chest, Ynna piped up. She was humming loudly as she washed the dishes, a testament to her good mood after having consumed as much sugar as it would have taken to give three human men diabetes.

“Hm. Not enough times, I’m afraid.”

“Aha. Well, you’re the best. The absolute most fantastic friend and beignet-maker a girl could ask for.” Ynna smiled as she continued washing, happily indulging his ego. He couldn’t help but listen to the little sounds of her pleasure. He would be sure to learn a few more dessert recipes to make for her in the future. Maybe something with coffee in it.

With a quiet clatter of glass against wood, the last of the spices went back into place, finishing his portion of the post-dinner clean up. From the counter across the room, he observed her; the straightness in her posture and the ease in which she moved. She swayed lightly to the soft trumpet melody playing from his chest. Her hands moved methodically as she worked. Her feet tapped to the rhythm and her shoulders sometimes followed. A happy woman. His chest thrummed at the pleasantness of it all. A quiet evening to end an entertaining day.

Basking in her contentment, he moved to her side, leaning against the kitchen counter as they continued to chat. 

“I think you handled that waiter well.” 

“Hm? Didn’t you say I was too kind?” Curiously, she looked at him, lips pouting in confusion.

“Oh, definitely. A show of strength is the best way to ensure others aren’t tempted to mess with you in the future.” Clenching a gloved fist, he flared a bit of his power for emphasis. His and her shadows pulsed at the call of his power, ready to obey his command.

“That only works when you actually have the power to keep them away. And unlike a certain someone, I’m not an Overlord.” She barely batted a lash. Even when he’d purposely let his shadow project itself onto the sink, a silhouette of his partially transformed state looming over her, the woman merely tapped it, asking the phantom to move away so she could grab another plate.

The shade near instantly deflated, silently laughing as it helped with the last of the dishes. 

“Well isn’t it fortunate that you have an Overlord in your circle of friends, then? One you can call anytime you have a problem.” From his breast pocket, he pulled out a small velvet pouch containing a little artifact that he’d been working on. He dangled it in front of her, bumping the little pouch against her nose until she took it from his hands.

“What’s this?” With a curious face, she opened the pouch and pulled out a necklace. Its red oval pendant gleamed a rich crimson as it dangled from a bright silver chain.

“A way to call upon me should you ever find yourself in a spot of trouble.” He plucked the accessory from her hands and motioned for her to turn around so he could put it on for her. As he locked the fishhook clasp, a tiny zing of satisfaction sizzled at his fingertips, an unexpected bout of possessiveness passing through him. “I enchanted this stone so that you may summon me. With only a drop of blood, I’ll know you need help and be able to find you.”

It had been an adventure to make his gift, having to learn new aspects of magick that allowed a summoning like this. There was never any reason to go to someone who needed his help unless his deal with them demanded it. Even then, he’d already gotten rid of those pesky souls that had such clauses in their contracts a long time ago. He found it simply too bothersome to answer those calls when there were plenty of wretches to replenish his numbers.

But Ynna being in danger when he wasn’t present to protect her, his goat put out of commission at the hands of some petty sinner, her blood spilled for anything other than his doing, that was offensive. It angered him just to think about the two times she had suffered, though both incidents had only brought them closer to each other. 

He brushed his thumb on the back of her neck where the chain gleamed brightly against her warm skin. If she wished to spend her afterlife as a weakling then he would ensure he was able to be there to protect her. Because she was his people. His. 

She flinched under his touch and that snapped him out of that train of thought. He brought his hand back down and waited for her reaction to his gift. Any moment now, she would present a lovely grateful expression, one that would send him mind whirring in delight as pay off for his efforts. Unfortunately, something else seemed to be on the woman’s mind as her head snapped up from examining the jewelry, worry etched on her face.

“Isn’t this…your brooch?”

“I’m surprised you recognized it. I’ve never had to make an artifact like this before and by gods did it send me into a tizzy trying to find the proper spells to put on it. It stated that the best medium to connect to was one that’s been exposed to me and my power for a long time. I hope you don’t mind that it’s of an older style.” Seeing the gratitude and awe leak onto her expression, a smirk made its way to his lips. As if he didn’t already know that she preferred less gaudy jewelry. It was only proper that a gentleman knew a lady’s tastes before gifting her something and he paid attention to these details, especially when they related to her as of late.

He admired the pendant as it sat on Ynna’s chest. It had been one of his more meticulous projects as of late. Even the chain it hung from was something he only found during today’s outing, an old piece he’d fairly traded for as it suited what he had envisioned for her. And he had been correct in thinking his brooch would suit her, he thought rather smugly.

“I—wait here, I’ll be right back.” Something seemed to light up in her mind and she was out the kitchen doors before he could stop her, leaving him disappointed. Did she not like it after all?

Less than 10 minutes later, she returned, panting from running as fast as she could. In her hand, a small gift box.

“Here. I have a present for you too.” She beamed at him, all sweet and sincere. A shade of pink steadily bloomed on her cheeks as she presented the object to him. It gave her face a touch of shyness that his brain latched onto and wanted to pick apart. It delighted him to see it and he wanted to know how to bring it about again in the future. He was sure to have fun experimenting.

He picked up the proffered box, taking a bit of pleasure from the building anticipation within her gaze. Whatever it was she’d gotten him seemed to excite her and he couldn’t help but wonder what gift she thought to bring to an Overlord. Oh, the possibilities. Food? A trinket? Something bizarre but useful? Whatever it was, a greedy voice in his mind rumbled in delight as he opened it.

Nestled within shredded wrapping tissue was a blood red oval brooch. The stone looked to be a ruby with two carefully carved black antlers on the facet. The gem was framed in smooth black metal giving it a sophisticated finish.

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your brooch and thought that maybe you lost it or something so ta-dah.” A small hand went to the new accessory she wore, holding the piece delicately between her fingers. “Turns out, you used it for a gift for me. What a coincidence, I guess.” Shy nervous half-laughs left her punctuated her speech as she waited for his reaction.

Electricity crackled in his chest, static snapping in his mind. Apparently, she also paid attention to him and his tastes. His smirk stretched into a full on grin.

“Well, don’t just stand there, sweetheart. Aren’t you going to put it on for me?”

“You want me to?”

“Did I stutter, dear?” He presented the gem to her, leaning down so that she would have an easier time with her task. 

“Guess not.” Her lips pressed into a fond line as she moved to pin the accessory to his bow tie. As he was wont to do, he moved his face even closer to her, invading her space and delighting when she remained unmoving. 

Staring down at her as her fingers worked on the clasp, careful not to prick him, he observed the blush on her cheeks darken ever so slightly, his satisfaction deepening with it.

When she finished, her eyes looked up at him and for a breath, they stared at each other, neither making a move. 

Curiosity, innocence and a hint of affection were reflected in her eyes, her fondness for him plain to see. His mind buzzed with it, a near constant feeling of lightness turned on with each brush of her gaze. Just a bit closer and he was sure to feel her breath on him.

He inhaled slowly. A mistake. The desire to feel her teeth on his skin was rekindled with the air that carried traces of her scent.

It had been a month since it had last happened, since anything of his had touched her lips. He’d restrained himself from feeding her, in the name of their relationship and out of his fondness and respect for her. But the desire was always there, simmering in the back of his mind, its fangs at times snapping at his sanity when it became too much.

Like now, when she looked at him with this expression. 

“So, I take that you like my gift?” Tentatively, the words left her mouth, equal parts bashful and proud. That greedy voice in his mind crooned. He would have accepted anything she gave him. Anything.  

“It was very thoughtful of you, sweetheart. I’m very happy with it.” Each word was delivered clearly, unobstructed by his radio filter, with his voice lowered, as if declaring his satisfaction any louder would lessen the truth behind his words. His delivery had the desired effect as the blush that had begun to recede from her face bloomed anew.

So she liked his voice. He tucked away that piece of information. 

“Oh. That’s great. Haha…” Flustered by him for once, she backed away, laughing nervously at the end. He straightened his back and laughed internally. It was good to finally pay her back for how utterly off guard she’d caught him with her words of praise after the party. He reveled in seeing her flustered though the tension did eventually ease, sadly. Oh well. He would have more opportunities in the future.

When she regained her composure, her hands went to her new pendant, a small grin on her face and she lifted it up. “I actually feel like I owe you two things now since you gave me two gifts today. Beignets and this. I’ll figure something out.”

“You can always try a little nibble of me if you’re wanting for an idea.” He threw out there as he began to walk away to do a final check of the kitchen before calling it an evening.

“Maybe I should. You’re always going on about it.” She shrugged. He almost whipped his head around in shock. Did she just—? His heart pounded in his chest, a rare nervousness filling him at recognizing an opportunity when it presented itself. THE opportunity.

“Oh please. I’m not always on about it.” Feigning nonchalance as he turned back to her, an innocent smile played on his lips.

“You’ve only been mentioning it almost every other day for over a month now, Alastor.”

“Well, it is my most entertaining fixation at the moment.”

“You need better fixations, my friend.” She leaned against the counter as she tutted at him. He thought that would have been the end of the conversation but shadows covered her downturned face in momentary gloom. “Hey Al?”

”Yes?”

”…Is that really what you want from me though? To eat some of you?”

It felt like the first time he’d pulled a trigger, the first stab of his knife. As she looked at him asking only his honest answer, he knew his next actions would change the course of their relationship. For better or for worse, it was for her to decide. So he answered honestly, with the same low voice and lack of filter.

“Yes. As my most treasured friend and companion with a power that would greatly benefit from it, I would love for you to partake of me.”

“…Alright.”

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

What did you agree to?

The question floated around your head over and over along with Alastor’s cheeky grin. You couldn’t have said no to him, the way he looked so happy, genuinely happy and content with your gift. When you’d said yes, for a brief moment, you saw something intense flash red in his eyes before he quickly hid it away. It was proof that he was seriously fixated on the idea of you eating him more than his nonchalant responses would have you believe. Dammit. Why did serving you something so sick mean so much to the man? You were almost tempted to contact Rosie to ask about cannibal culture. Did you really even want to know? It felt like a necessity now that you were so close to Alastor.

Pain sprouted in your chest where your heart lay at the thought of disappointing him. Your hand went to grasp your necklace, running your thumb over the smooth stone that used to be Alastor’s brooch. Why did you agree?

“… I realized that I’ve become quite fond of you. Enough to forgive you for eating a part of me.”

Not long ago, he had flipped out at the idea of you eating him, barely eking out his forgiveness as you planted the seeds of your friendship.

“As my most treasured friend and companion…I would love for you to partake of me.”

And a few nights ago, he declared you his most treasured companion. Most treasured.

Your heart beat faster just remembering it. The timbre of his unfiltered voice, the smoldering intensity you could just peek behind the calm facade. Alastor asked this of you sincerely for once. Not with casual jibes and mentions that you could brush off as whimsical stabs at your power, but with a plain unmasked voice, he let you know his wish.

And by gods did you want to fulfill it! You could have done anything for him if he asked you with that voice like the rumbling of the earth and the rustling of a forest. Low and a little gruff, it was a weapon of pure sin! The man could already easily get his way with his handsome face, elegant demeanor and charming personality. But with that God-crafted voice, it was overkill for your poor shaken heart. If he was even half of that package when he was alive, you understood now how he got away with so many murders. 

“Is everything okay, Ynna?” You flinched before looking towards Charlie. The princess was crouched down in front of a newly dug flowerbed. With her blazer discarded and sleeves rolled up, she looked at home between the bags of dirt and freshly dug flowerbeds. Beside her, Vaggie depotted newly purchased flowers from their nursery planters.

“I’m fine. Just spaced out, is all.” 

“Oh. Well, what do you think of this garden? I thought you’d like it since you have so many plants in your room.” They had allotted a small plot of land behind the hotel for a little garden with the hopes that caring for something from seed to blossom would teach kindness and compassion to the weary cruel soul. It could work in theory, though you doubted Angel, Sir Pentious or you would benefit from the lesson. All three of you already had something to care for in Fat Nuggets, the Egg Bois and your own indoor plants. Still, you thought it was a good idea for future guests and it seemed to ease Charlie a bit to keep finding different avenues to work through her goal. 

“Yeah. I love it.” At your feet were seeds and pots of red and yellow carnations and zinnias, hellish in their form with eyes and sharp leaves. They blinked at you in an oddly cute fashion, morbid yet completely at home in Hell’s landscape…just like turning into a momentary cannibal would be, in the name of friendship (and your stupidly deep affection for the Radio Demon).

You groaned internally at the thought, struggling to keep a cheerful face in front of the princess as several things bombarded your mind at the same time, as they had been since you woke up this morning.

One, you agreed to eat some cannibal cuisine made by Alastor with meat from Alastor.

Two, despite the gut-flipping revulsion your mind echoed at you, you could not bring yourself to backtrack from that demented promise.

Three, and probably the worst of it, you would re-damn your soul for this decision and disappoint your first benefactor, the one who gave you the opportunity to better your life in this eternal cesspit.

Your trowel stabbed harshly into the ground in front of you, the force of all three realizations coming out in that subtle show of your distress. You dug deeper than necessary, as if the act could uncover a path for you to reconcile the upset in your emotions. 

The dirt covering your hands felt therapeutic in a way, but not enough to stop the choking grasp of guilt that gripped you as the princess smiled proudly at your affirmation. 

“Great! That’s perfect. I know that our last trust exercise didn’t go so well for you so I was hoping we could find something tamer. I’m so happy we thought of this.” Charlie looked sheepishly at the ground. Under the midday glow of the Pentagram, you spied the telltale signs of exhaustion tracing her usually cheerful face. “Any day now. I can feel it, Ynna. I’m sure Heaven will open up and take you with them. It’ll be so exciting and we’ll have proof that this, all of this, could work!”

You gulped against the lump slowly building in your  throat. How could you tell her you were about to commit a sin and destroy all your progress towards redemption tonight? That you would destroy what she believed would be the key to her success?

“Easy, hun. Don’t put pressure on her.” Vaggie chided lovingly from the side. Even she looked gentle and content at this moment and more dread filled your heart when she glanced at you. It became harder to swallow, guilt and shame and acidic bile making itself at home in the back of your throat.

“Oh right. Sorry, Ynna. I’m just…I really think you have the best shot at this. You’re kind and sweet. Not to mention disciplined. I’m sure you’re excited to see a better afterlife than this after all the work you put into redemption.” 

“Not too excited.” The words that reflected your shifting views of redemption came out unbidden, to the surprise of both women in front of you. 

“What do you mean?”

Slowly, you pieced together what you wanted to say, though the urge to confess your sins in front of her was building. A halo of pentagram light shined on her soft golden hair, the image so holy you felt too dirty in her presence. With all your sincerity, you looked into her eyes, the shining hope and kindness in them burning your eyes just a little as they stung with tears.

“You’ve built a good thing here, Charlie. You gave me a home when I was drowning trying to adapt to Hell. I love living here with everyone and sometimes, I think that this is probably as close to Heaven as I’ll ever get. So…I’m not too excited to ascend.” You’d made so many friends over the months, each of them precious. “And if I don’t ever cross those pearly gates, I’m already thankful that you showed me that I can live just fine down here. Not just live, but be happy. Thank you for that, Charlie.”

“Ynna…” With a wet and wobbly call of your name, Charlie reached out both arms for a hug. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, her cheeks and nose flushed red from stinging reassurance.

“Sweetie.” Beside her, Vaggie also reached out, a gentle smile on her lips and gratitude for your words etched into her expression.

Two sets of arms wrapped around you and you toppled over at the weight of both women. As you three landed amidst the reds and yellows, they let you know that they appreciated your friendship too. That your presence in and support of the hotel made it easier for these two lovely women to work towards their noble cause even when the rest of Hell (and even their Hotelier) laughed at them.

Feeling their love, you let yourself cry, both in happiness at their appreciation and despair at disappointing them should they find out about your dinner tonight. Fuck. 

You dug too deep and found no answers to your problems, just a heart both heavier and lighter in the face of your friendships.

Alastor’s POV

There was a very subtle limp to his gait, his magick working tirelessly to repair the damage he’d inflicted on himself to prepare for tonight’s dinner. It had to be perfect. 

He leaned against the kitchen counter of his home. He’d chosen to prepare everything in his bayou cabin today partly out of comfort but mostly to avoid running into anyone too nosey. Unlike the ordeal with the chicharrones, the damage to his body this time was more apparent, the pain almost unbearable even to one such as he.

But it would be worth it. It always was when it came to Ynna. 

He sat at a dining chair and went about cleaning his knives. The familiar weight of them gave him something to focus on as he tried not to let his excitement overtake him. It was proving difficult as another shock of magick electricity escaped him causing the lights to flicker. He sighed. He needed to focus on something less…exhilarating. Less on her teeth and the gentle way her eyes looked at him as she agreed to his request.

Bzzzt.

The ball of energy that had plagued him all evening snapped, the replay of that image not losing its potency despite how many times he’d thought about it since that evening.

“Tsk.” His sweetheart really did love to test his self-control and patience. A most delightful challenge and one he would conquer, as he always did. Closing his eyes, a slow breath came out through his nose. Think of something else…how about what she was likely feeling right now? He was no fool. He was sure she had agreed only because she had been carried away by the moment. She left the kitchen that evening in a daze. Even as he walked beside her to escort her to her room, she remained mildly distracted, hand wrapped around her new pendant, fidgeting. That was a good sign, that she liked his gift and found comfort in the newly-acquired trinket that held a bit of his energy.

But its effect on her psyche was minimal as she slowly lost herself into her thoughts, falling into a bit of distress that she barely hid when he bid her Good Night. Not even the brush of his lips against her fingertips seemed to lift her spirits, the pointed show of affection causing her to tense rather than be soothed.

He was sorry for her distress. A part of him wanted to comfort her, to eliminate the source of her worries, but he would not. The opportunity was finally here, to see her eat of him and know exactly what it was that she ate. To do it by her own will, out of her precious foolishness and devotion. Another shiver racked his spine, the fire of excitement burning in desire and blasted arousal. He growled as he shifted his legs to make room for the disgusting reactions his body exhibited, the grip on his knife tighter. A breath. Two breaths. The clicking in his head quieted, distaste for the heat pooled in his belly cooling his head.

Damned woman and the things she did to him. 

His grinning reflection on the gleaming knife’s edge smiled wider as he thought of her. He would make this meal as perfect as he could. From presentation to taste, he would ensure that the only thing to disturb her would be what demons plagued her mind. Nevermind that he was probably the most prominent of those demons. No. Even better if he was.

Ynna’s POV

Because of your dinner plans with Alastor, the demon had announced that tonight would be a fend-for-yourself kind of evening. Angel had asked if you were interested in eating out but given how you barely had any appetite all day, he easily accepted when you declined. 

Not even an hour later, you were arm in arm with Alastor as he brought you to his suite. A woman’s voice crooned softly from his chest which you were thankful for. You needed the distraction as your companion was being unusually quiet. Maybe he noticed the tension you held and opted not to say anything. Or maybe the nerves were making you paranoid.

The arm escorting you was warm and firm. Every few steps, your side would brush against his and when you tried to give him space, your arm was tugged, his way of letting you know to stay. From this close, you could feel him and maybe it wasn’t paranoia after all. There was a very subtle oddness about him. The glide in his stride that never faltered even with you on his arm was almost mechanical. For a man who flowed smoothly like a melody, he was slightly off beat.

“Al? Are you…okay?” His steps were too rigid, his back too straight. And though the smile on his face was genuine, it was still slightly strained, like he was in pain and oh…Your jaw clenched tightly. “Did you hurt yourself that badly for this?”

How much did he hurt himself? How did it not hit you sooner that he would have to hurt himself for this? 

The question caught him off guard, the gears in his head turning to find the best way to answer you without further worrying you. Stupid man. Now that you knew, how could you not worry? Your eyes roamed over his form, trying to find where he was hurt but the man was too good at covering it up and pretending. Determined to find the source of his pain, your palms gently roamed over the silk and wool on his chest before being caught by one of his own. 

“Ah, your concern for me is so very charming, sweetheart but I can reassure you, this was my wish.” He kept your hands on his bosom so that you were forced to really look into his eyes as he reassured you. The strain in his smile eased for you before mirth crept into his red gaze. “Don’t you fret about me.”

“But—“ He halted your protest with a firm squeeze of your hands before he brought them back to the crook of his arm.

“Hush.” The man shrugged, a small smile on his face. “It wasn’t like I entirely disliked the pain anyway.” The wink in his tone wasn’t lost on you even though his face remained respectively calm. You almost sputtered in shock.

“How can you say that?” How were you supposed to take that? He almost sounded like Angel just then, a little flirty and plenty mischievous. Alastor, of all people! Flirting? You were going insane. You were absolutely going insane. 

Exasperated, you let him lead you again as he only chuckled at you. Your heart rate might have gone up at the sound and maybe he would be too focused on pretending to be alright to hear it.

You both eventually reached his room, the man opening the door for you as he invited you in. It was the same as you remembered, a red bedroom and a magical bayou wonderland in the back.

The cool atmosphere of the swamp reminded you of the last time you set foot in the Radio Demon’s domain. How funny it was that that evening had ended with you eating a bit of Alastor and passing out, crying. You were almost sure that the same thing would happen tonight, minus being kicked out and having the Overlord pissed at you. Though who knows.

The dining set near the edge of the two dimensions was decorated. A white cloth was draped over the table with a little vase of flowers blinking their little eyes. The cutest ones were bell-shaped with five simple petals coming out of a trumpet-like stalk. Their red and purple blooms dangled out from between honeysuckle and scarlet fuchsias. There was even a nicely folded napkin with utensils laid out on what you presumed was your side of the table. Did that mean he wasn’t eating with you? 

If you weren’t such a nervous wreck, you might have thought the setting romantic. No, maybe sweet, but not romantic. Definitely messed up though. Alastor was making a big occasion out of serving you some special meal made of his flesh. Didn’t that just highlight how much it mattered to him? But still, it was his flesh! Your jaw clenched trying to stop a wave of nausea from washing over you.

He hurt himself for this! Get over it, Ynna!

Walking ahead of you, Alastor pulled out your seat, ever the gentleman as he waited patiently for you to sit. The slightly plush crunch of grass and dead leaves beneath your feet weighed your steps down, slower than you would have liked as you closed the distance. The mental slap you gave yourself did nothing to quell the  constant war between wanting to run away and staying playing in your head.

He had to have noticed how uncomfortable you were. When you reached him, his hand hovered at your back, guiding you to sit as he usually did, except he was careful not to touch you. He was treating you like the frightened animal that you were, putting up a brave front that did not fool the predator behind you one bit. Part of you wished he’d end all of this and forget you’d ever agreed to try his cannibal cuisine. Another part observed the demon, trying to gauge his reactions as you sat, resisting the urge to grab the napkin for something to fidget with. 

The usually comforting presence of the man did nothing to lessen your nervousness. No. The way he stood, just on the taut side of poised, didn’t escape you. It wasn’t due to his injury.

This tension wasn’t solely on you, try as he might to hide it.

“Thank you for not running away, sweetheart. I do so appreciate that you could make it to try my special dish this evening.” Your eyes met as he spoke, his tone a low lilt carrying only the slightest hint of his earlier cheer. Careful. Thoughtful. Regarding you in that sly but intently studying way. A hint of softness and hesitation dusted the lines of his face, in his red eyes, a message delivered more effectively than his words could at this moment: you need only ask and he would take his disappointment and wasted efforts and pretend this never happened.

You swallowed against the sudden dryness of your throat. He was willing to do that for you. So how could you not be willing to indulge his fucked up fixation just this once? You calmed your gaze and gave the best smile you could.

“I said I’d do it. Wouldn’t back out now and disappoint you, Al.”

“Brave girl.” The man had the audacity to wink at you as he dropped the worry from his eyes. With a flourish of his arm, a cloche-covered platter appeared in his hand. Like an experienced server, his free hand unraveled the rose-folded napkin and set it on your lap. It tickled you to see him so grandiose but any laughter was strangled by your nerves. He laid the mystery dish down in front of you neatly, the lightest of aromas seeping through the cover.

“This evening’s dish is venison steak with a red wine reduction.” He took off the cloche with a graceful arc, the metal lightly ringing as he did. Unveiled was a dish that could be served at any high class restaurant. Five thinly cut slices of perfectly medium rare meat were arranged neatly like a flower on a round white plate. Lightly drizzled on top was a dark red sauce that smelled sweet, a hint of garlic and rosemary tickling your nose.

Seeing the meal, your stomach rumbled at you, having not eaten much all day because of your anxiety. It was a testament to his cooking skills that your appetite came back even though your mind was screeching at you that the thing in front of you was not as innocent as it appeared.

The man sat opposite to you, legs crossed and patient as you processed your emotions. 

You really were going to do this, weren’t you? Take the plunge, taint your already wretched soul further as a little favor for your dear friend. It wasn’t even that you were punting yourself farther from Heavenly grace. It was that you would have to live with the knowledge that you did this, consented to cannibalizing him.

Maybe it would have happened anyway down the line, with Hell as dangerous as it was and your only innate advantage was your demented power. Or maybe you might have gone to Heaven by then. Or maybe Alastor would always be there to protect you and you would never have to worry.

Grasping at your necklace, you looked at your companion, the crisis in your mind a constant blare of your own voice arguing with yourself. It yelled about your stupidity, about Charlie’s disappointment in you, about how morally wrong this all was, to look and notice the anticipation in your friend’s eyes even when he was trying to hide it, to think about Heaven, to think think think think think this through!

To fulfill his wish…and how you stood to lose so much of yourself from doing it.

“Alastor.” Your voice came out in a quiet squeak, each syllable weighing heavy on your tongue.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“…I’ll be honest with you. This looks amazing. I can tell you really busted your ass trying to make it.”

“It was my thigh but do go on.” He leaned forward, cradling his pointy chin on his hands, a devious smile on his lips when he saw your face go from concentrated neutrality to mild annoyance.

“…I didn’t need to know that. Urgh.” He could be a real asshole sometimes, with his sick humor. Despite knowing how stressed you were, he still had it in him to make light of the situation. You were glad and annoyed that it was working because you too could appreciate his sense of humor even if you felt like hitting him at times for it.

“Al, I feel like I’m about to lose my mind. I was talking to Charlie this morning and doing this, eating this, is going to shun me out of Heaven for sure. I feel like there will be no going back.” The moment you said those words aloud felt like a mallet coming down on your judgment. Sinner! It branded you. Irredeemable wretch! Ungrateful soul! You flinched at the accusations of your own mind, locking away those voices with what little determination you could mine from Alastor’s gaze. You took a deep breath.

“You never seemed to believe too much in redemption. Would it really be such a loss?”

“It’s not about Heaven, it’s…Charlie. I don’t want to break her heart.” But not enough to pull away from all of this , a voice in your mind whispered darkly. Not enough to say no to Alastor.  

“I still owe you a favor for our deal, right? Can this be it? I’ll eat you like you asked me to as the favor I owe you for our deal.” You grasped for something, something to help push you that final step over the ledge, to make the fall from minor disgrace hurt a little less. If this wasn’t just something you wanted to do for him, but something that you had to do…

“I hadn’t even thought about our deal in so long. Hah. I’m not against cashing that in now for this. Though I did hope you would take this meal as a sign of my appreciation for you.” Your proposal seemed to startle the man, his eyes widening just a bit and a crackle of static flitting through the air.

“Oh fuck. When you put it like that—“

“I know. You’d feel obligated to do it.” His voice dropped low, the gravity of understanding your stress pulling it down. “You already feel obligated to do this now as it stands. You’re nervous…” Something seemed to shutter behind his red gaze and the excitement behind them vanished. A panic in you rose, not for your safety, but for having offended or possibly hurt him. “You don’t have to do this anymore, sweetheart. It was awfully callous of me to have asked it knowing how morally against you are about my tastes.”

His voice was gentle even as his smile lost its cheer. Fuck.

Your hand was on your fork and knife before you had a second to reconsider. Cutting into a piece of steak, you brought the piece, dripping in sauce, into your mouth. The rich flavors spread over your tongue and the infernal urge to devour rose from your gut causing your hands to shake in fright at its appearance. But that didn’t matter now. Alastor did. Pointedly making eye contact with the demon, you chewed. Shut your brain down except for chewing and swallowing and spewing your words to stem the hurt you’d caused him.

“It’s not about obligation, Al. I want to do this for you. It’s just that I’m losing so much…lost so much. Charlie is going to flip if she ever finds out. Heaven will know, God sees everything or whatever. Moral sacrifice. Mental. It’s just a lot. And I was struggling because I still wanted to do this for you.” You cut another bite sized piece, trying to push the screams of oh god oh god oh god playing a mental breakdown track in the back of your mind.

“I just thought I could get something out of it and that was stupid of me. I said I would do this for you and I shouldn’t have tried to get an advantage out of it.” You kept looking at him as you tried to apologize for letting him misunderstand. If it was just to indulge his fixation, you were already willing to do it. But if this was some weird cannibal way of showing trust and affection…as fucked up as that was. You were willing to accept because why the hell wouldn’t you want to when you loved him so much as it was?

“…”

“Al?” He remained silent at your apology and dread started to creep into your veins, the taste of venison in your mouth reminding you that not only did you just eat sinner flesh but you might have fucked it up and gone through all this insanity just to have the man you did it for be upset with you as a result.

“Give me a moment, sweetheart.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed as he thought. Each second ticked passed like the crumbling edges of a cliff as a chill creeped into your bones. When would he speak again? Or would you fall over before that?

Tick. A breath.

Tock. A tightening of your grip on your fork.

A fidget of your leg.

A concentrated effort to wait for him.

When he opened his eyes again, they looked at you intensely, a red glow in them so captivating that you felt trapped in their depths. He reached over and stroked your cheek, coming away with your tears caught on his fingertips. You hadn’t even realized you’d started crying. “Oh sweetheart, dearest, don’t cry. You’re right that this is a lot to ask of someone.” For just the slightest bit, the filter in his voice dropped and the blood that had started freezing in your veins started to pump fast again.

“If it’ll help you feel a little better then, alright. This is the favor that I ask of you in exchange for taking away that curse on your impulsivity. It fits my criteria anyway as this is something only you can do for me.” 

“You don’t have to–”

“It’s done. I’ve already decided on it so don’t worry about it anymore, dearest. I personally don’t find offense in you trying to bargain. It’s about time you wisened up to one of the ways sinners live in Hell. I’m actually quite proud.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye before flicking it away. A droplet actually fell from his finger and you realized that it was your tears that he’d wiped away earlier. “Go ahead. If you have any other stipulations, I might just entertain you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You have to be specific about how your deal should work. Ultimately though, it’s a negotiation between parties so there is a chance that your terms will not be accepted. So go on. Try to think about your deal with me and what conditions would benefit you.” 

That he even offered to change the terms surprised you. You observed him as his eyes glowed and he moved with more of a flourish. He was excited. Happy. Very happy. Did your proposition really please him that much? Or was it that you ate his demented dish and apologized? Likely, a combination of both. A lump formed in your throat, difficult to swallow as you took him in. 

He crossed his legs as he waited for your answer, a wide grin on his face. Fiendish. Fascinating. Full of anticipation and encouragement, his fondness plain to see. He was so beautiful like this. And you wanted to keep indulging his wickedness.

“Then how about we keep this a secret between us. The deal. Eating you. All of it stays between us. Make it so neither of us can tell anyone.” Childishly, you offered your pinky finger, asking for a promise from the devil. Amusement cocked his grin but his own gloved-pinky wrapped around yours without derision.

“Alright but is that it? You really want this to be a secret?”

“Yes. I can’t think of any other clauses to add and…I don’t want Charlie to find out. EVER.” It would break the princess’ heart. Absolutely destroy her. If it took you a long time to be redeemed from this then that was fine. No one really knew how to get to Heaven anyway. But if you weren’t ever redeemed and the princess found out about your deal with Alastor…That you sabotaged yourself. Your throat constricted just thinking about it.

Alastor’s POV

The terms of the deal were finalized again and he had only a moment to admire her for trying to benefit from the situation she was in. Oh how his dearest goat had grown a spine under his influence. Her little act had him giddy by itself but what she was doing now lit his mind with pleasure.

She continued to dig into the meal, cutlery splitting the meat into pieces in that charming way of hers. As she chewed, she tried to converse with him but more and more, the words petered out as they both were lost to their minds. Her worry for him had passed so all that was left was worry for herself. He could see it in the way she dazedly moved, commanding her hands to work even as her eyes were unfocused. Quite alike when an impulse overtook her only this time, she willingly let go of control.

It was just as well that she lost herself. His composure only hung by the barest of threads too. The moment she put that first piece in her mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly so she could explain herself and apologize, had been the end of his complete coherency. Only part of him paid attention to her words as each syllable exploded bits and pieces of his sanity away.

Yesss… The voices in his head hissed. The sounds of dials clicked madly in his mind.

“It’s not out of obligation. I want to do this for you.” He’d wanted to grab her right then and demand that she say it again. Say it again and take another piece of him, directly from his throat this time. To have her closer as she said those words to him, sound her devotion against his skin until it was all he would hear for the rest of his afterlife. 

His shadow rose behind her, antlers grown and limbs elongated to reflect the manic glee that rushed through him and he couldn’t show her. Her form stood out against the darkness that salivated behind her, twisted delight coursing through him as she remained unaware of just what she was doing to him. That she would do this for him despite the obvious toll it took on her made his blood sing.

It was the compulsion of the deal that pulled him out of near hysteria and when he’d gathered himself, he could only admire her guts. The favor that he had almost forgotten was used and she even made sure that the consequences should someone find out would never happen. Clever girl. His clever girl.

Another piece made its way into her mouth, tongue licking the sauce that had not fully gotten through her lips. His claws dug into his hands, trying to stem the urge to wipe her mouth for her. They were both in delicate states of mind right now and the balance was a hair’s width away from tipping. 

Ynna swallowed the last bit, coming out of her self-imposed daze. She stared at the empty plate with a complicated face before her eyes finally focused themselves on him. Hesitation. Disbelief. Extreme Discomfort. They danced in her eyes behind unshed tears but she coughed and put up a calm front. Sweet but also afraid.

“Thank you for the meal, Al. I think I’ll turn in now.” His eyes only followed her as she got up to leave, not trusting himself to contain the static already fizzling in the corners of the room. But then she turned around and uttered those damned words, her voice cracking as she pushed through the barbs in her throat.

“It was delicious.” 

Click.

He was moving before he could think. His mouth descended on hers, swallowing whatever she had to say. All he could think about was the need to taste, to know what he tasted like on her tongue. Was it truly as she said or was she politely spewing bullshit? Either way, she said it for his sake.

She froze under his touch and jerked her head away.

“AL! WH–” Too far gone to listen, he followed her lips, finally catching them open. He could smell the spices he used as seasoning on her breath, remnants of him still lingering in her pretty mouth. When she tried to move away again, he chased her, excitement and eagerness spurring his pursuit. At the brush of her tongue, sparks lit up in his mind with such force that his knees gave out, pushing both of them to the wall behind her. This was good. She couldn’t move away from him anymore.

Blood. He could taste blood on her. His teeth had bitten her in their fall and he eagerly suckled on her punctured lip, the thought of tasting her sending a manic clicking in his mind. She tasted sweet. Sweet and metallic, bitter and salty and absolutely perfect. He closed his eyes to savor her taste, his mind a thunderstorm, clouded with lightning striking through his body. The lights flickered around them as the energy he had been restraining was set free.

This felt good. This felt so deliriously good. Bolts and shivers racked his body as he held her precious face still. Adjusting his angle, he delved further into her mouth, mapping each of her teeth, now sharpened in distress. He could imagine them biting his tongue off, it would be painful but he would give it to her if she wanted.

His hand found her waist, pulling her flush against him, wanting to feel the soft warmth of her. Could she feel how he was shaking? How intensely his feelings were surging? He could feel her heart fluttering wildly in her chest, his own echoing its frantic rhythm. Music was playing from somewhere. Was it from him? He didn’t know. He could only focus on the woman before him.

Her hands held the lapels of his coat, not pulling but also not pushing. For a brief moment, he could feel her kissing back, soft and unsure. The small movement of her blessed mouth on him a sweet fluttering as he plundered. Something burst in his chest. This was what he wanted. Her acceptance of him, of his depravity. Her willingness to indulge him even though it went against her morals. Because she cared for him. Because she cared for me .

Pushing his full weight onto her, she groaned into his mouth, the vibrations happily received by his awaiting tongue. He could feel himself grow harder as he pressed against her. Even this disgusting reaction felt incredibly good. Closer. He needed her closer.

He felt her small body freeze as he pushed himself against the softness of her thigh. Her hands let go of him and she squeaked in distress. It was just enough of a pause in their unconscious rhythm that he realized what he had done.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against hers. His breath came in short gasps, air filling his lungs as he only just realized he’d forgotten to breathe. He felt soft and tired, all the energy seeming to leave him all at once. That was amazing.

“Al…?” The girl in his arms was flushed, lip split, staring at him with wide confused eyes. Tears were streaming down her face, into the hand that still held her. Her breaths were as labored, each gasp brushing against his lips, stimulating him in such a delicious way that he could feel his tiredness be replaced by a want for more. She was frightened and he was eager.

He gave one chaste kiss, feeling electricity at the contact before pulling away just enough for her to leave. 

“I think...you should go.” He wouldn’t be able to stop himself if she stayed in his grasp any longer. Already, a fire was building in the pit of his stomach, hungry for her in every way possible.

Ynna’s POV

Your heart was hammering in your chest, both in fear and confusion. As he pulled away from the kiss, he looked shocked and in a daze. His pupils were blown so wide, his red eyes had turned black, his skin flushed peach in exertion. He looked so soft, as if he was beholding the most precious thing in the world as he looked at you and it made your heart jump. Who knew he could look like this? 

Just as sudden as his kiss, that softness started to evaporate. Those blown out radio dial eyes focused, your teary reflection clear in their depths. His antlers grew larger, horrifically sharp atop his head. His stretching grin showed more teeth as it split his face. This vision was familiar. A chilling brush of shadows against your limbs sent terror spiking down your sides. 

“...you should go.” You barely heard him whisper. That was a good idea. You needed to leave before…you didn’t know what it was you dreaded but it was enough for you to move out from between him and the wall. On shaky legs, you dashed out from his room, a faint “Thank you, Ynna.” following behind you as you ran.

You ran. You ran. You ran all the way to the lobby, the neon lights of the bar catching your dazed mind.

“Kid, what happened with you!?” You threw yourself on the stool, catching Husk off guard. You must’ve looked a mess but all you could think about was that you didn’t want to think right now.

“I need a drink. The strongest you have.”

“That’s not a good idea when you look like you’re about to have a panic attack.”

“I just might, Husk so please! Just get me a drink. I need to not think right now. I…I’m not ready to think right now.” You tried to block yourself from remembering. Not right now. Not while you’re sober and liable to start screaming and crying. You can do that when you’re drunk and can blame the hysteria on the alcohol.

Something in your desperation must’ve gotten through to the guy as he started pouring your drink. You downed it, not even tasting the thing as it burned down your throat. “Another. Please.” It was like this for at least eight drinks before Husk stopped you.

“Wait for it. You’ve already had more than enough.”

Tears were spilling down your face and you let them loose as the blur of the alcohol started to kick in. Something started screaming. You weren’t sure if it was you. Not yet. You didn’t want to talk about it yet.

Chapter Text

Husk’s POV

Ynna passed out where she sat sobbing at the bar. He couldn’t for the afterlife of him figure out what caused her to be like this. As he reached over to try to wake her up and at least get her to go to her room for a proper rest, screams started coming from the radio in the lobby. It was that fucker’s broadcast.

His Boss was a piece of work, broadcasting the tortured screams of whatever poor soul crossed him. This was expected. The motherfucker picked random nights to terrorize people with his insane station and made sure that at least the radios near him would always be on from the broadcast. Asshole. He moved to turn off the radio, unable to stand having to hear the screams until more joined it. He paused. Within a few minutes, more and more tortured screams joined the broadcast. Dozens of souls, No. More. Terror clawed its way up his throat as the number of voices continued to rise dramatically until it turned into a crescendo worthy of any mortal’s imagination of Hell. The Radio Demon hasn’t had that many voices in his broadcast in almost a decade, especially after he’d joined the hotel.

He thought the shitty psycho had actually mellowed out in the last few months. He was actually doing his job as a Facility Manager, doing Charlie’s bidding when asked. Heck, he even made friends with the kid–

Glancing at the girl who looked like she’d seen her absolute nightmares come to life, he suddenly had a thought. Could Alastor have done this to her?

Alastor’s POV

Back in his cabin in the bayou, the nostalgic noises of croaking frogs, chirping critters and calling birds mixed with the sound of Chaplin.

He was dressed simply in just his shirt and trousers, suspenders dangling from his hips casually. Walking around barefoot through his cabin, he picked up some of the essentials. His favorite knife, a ready to go first aid kit and some towels to clean up after. There was a spring to his step as he approached his destination, the front porch.

Sitting at the edge, feet dangling in the water, Ynna hummed along the radio’s tune. She wore a sleeveless dress to combat the muggy heat of Louisiana June. Sensing his approach, she turned to look at him. Rays of sunlight shone in her hair, illuminating her face in sweet summer glow.

He took a moment to take it all in, the music and her in his home. It was a perfect day.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, my dearest. There’s dangerous things in the water, gators and snakes and many other critters.” The smile she had morphed into panic, quickly pulling her feet up and out of the water. She looked at him incredulous and upset.

“You said it was safe!” Accusation tinted her tone as she pouted her pretty lips.

“I believe my words were, ‘You’re safe here with me.’” He went to sit beside her, setting down his instruments as he crossed his legs. “The ‘with me’ is the key part.” Casting a glance in the water, several forms swam away at his stare. She must’ve noticed them too as her face paled at the immediate danger his presence repelled.

“Right. Got it. I’ll stay with Al.”

“Exactly right. Stay with me.” Always. Forever.

The sound of the radio and the bayou filled the space of their silence, encasing them in the tranquility of his home—their home. What once was his solitary refuge, now a paradise for two.

He basked in the atmosphere, feeling blessed to have the chance to experience this moment. For a while, Ynna was the same. She leaned back into her arms, letting what little breeze there was cool off the sweat dripping down her neck and to her chest. He lifted his eyes away. There would be plenty of time to stare disrespectfully later, if she obliged.

“You really want me to do this?” Lost in a peaceful trance, he missed when his beloved knife had ended up in his dearest’s hand. The knife’s edge sparkled in the sunshine, well cared for and ready to shed blood. In contrast, Ynna looked to him for confirmation, already set to do as he wished even as she sat timidly before him. He knew that she had her own reservations but still, she sweetly accepted his request. His darling. His adorable dear.

“I’m surprised you’re not tired of it all.”

“What? The blood? I’m getting used it after all the—“

“Of running through my mind.”

“HAH! What was that!?” Her laughter sounded in short gasping peals, sweeter than the sound of a hundred tormented souls but he would never dare broadcast it to the world. No. This was only for him to hear.

“I’m serious.” He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss on her knuckles, staring at her as he continued without his voice filter. “All day, all night. Whether I’m awake or unaware, I’m always looking forward to you, whatever you can give me, whatever your precious soul can spare.”

Under his gaze, she blushed. She was always so weak to his little displays of sincerity which made him want to do it more. Whatever it was that could enamor her to him, silly words of love, charming flirtations when she least expected. Whatever he could do to keep her next to him.

“Oh Al… Can I touch you?”

“You’re always allowed to.” 

Delicate hands gently reached for his chest, traveling up to where they could unclasp the buttons. The first to go was his bow tie, the brooch she gifted him carefully put to the side. Then, the buttons. Gingerly, she unclasped them, as if he wore tissue paper instead of cotton. Shivers racked through him under her light touches. Her eyes followed the path as his skin was slowly exposed to the elements, beholding his form, reverence shining.

With uncharacteristic strength, he was pushed onto his back, his heart thudding loudly as she watched him. He expected her to mount him, as couples would but instead she remained where she sat, eyes asking for permission, putting his comfort on the forefront even as her desire was starting to take hold. His heart swelled with adoration. How lovely she was.

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her onto him. His arms encircled her, squeezing as if he could force their bodies to meld. Her shortened breaths fanned the flames in his heart, the glint of the knife in her hand shooting electricity through his being. One hand on his chest to push herself up, she locked eyes with him once more, an ounce of hesitation coloring her expression.

“You can’t back away now.” He didn’t know what he would do if she stopped now. Rain hellfire on the Pentagram probably. Or bite her out of spite. Two very tempting ideas.

“Wasn’t thinking of it, deer-est.” Lies said to assure themselves both but she would follow through. She always followed through for him. 

With determination, she brought the blade to his skin, right over his heart, applying just enough pressure to draw blood. His eyes observed hers, noting the fascination in her gaze as she split his skin. He relished in the fiery sting as she dragged it in a line before lifting the blade and creating another.

“Taking this chance to showcase your artistic talent?” The softness of her waist cushioned his fingers as they dug into her, not out of pain, but of the need to keep her right there where the sun cast a halo upon the crown of her head and her heartbeat fluttered just within his reach. Where she could intoxicate him with just the shallowest cuts.

“X marks the spot.” Before he could think of a quip, she descended onto the mark, lapping at the cuts to coat her tongue with his blood.

He sucked in a breath at her ministrations. One moment, she looked as if she would run away and then next, she was tending to him with no reservations. Desire swirled like a hurricane in his chest, blowing away everything and flooding his senses with her, her actions raising goosebumps on his heavy limbs.

His eyes watched her in a half-lidded daze, captive audience to her performance. Soon, she’d taken all the wounds would give. But if he could convince her to cut him more, bleed him dry, take all he had to give. But she refused to hurt him to that extent. Still, his heart felt full, body alight with feelings only she could draw from him. That she would do this much was already enough.

But his dearest liked to surprise him.

With one more lick, her whole mouth latched onto his skin to suckle what was left. When it yielded nothing, she sank her fangs into him and bit down into muscle.

White pleasure exploded in his mind, the world expanding and narrowing down to the flicks of her tongue on his skin, teeth threatening to tear his muscle with every movement. It hurt. Of course it did. He wanted to scream and thrash but even more, even more than that, his body wanted to hold on to the feeling. He hadn’t asked her to do that, knowing all too well how she hated the idea of causing pain in the first place. Yet she’d done it of her own volition. For him.

How could such ecstasy exist? How blind must Heaven be to create this being of delight and joy and cast her a sinner. He held onto her in rapture. He’d never let them change their minds. HE’D NEVER LET HER GO.

“Hahaha!”

“HA!”

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

Laughter. Loud raucous laughter. It flowed from his lungs and out into the world. Laughter for the irony of finding his perfect Heaven in Hell. Laughter for the victory bursting in his body. Laughter because JUST BECAUSE! 

“Al?” She looked up at him with worried doe eyes, reflecting his manic face back at him. She would have been the picture of innocence had it not been for her bloody mouth. The gore on her lips sparkled more beautifully than freshly strung innards and he could not help but reach for it.

“I’ll devour you, my dearest.” He brought his mouth to her, wanting to lay his praises on her blessed lips. “I’ll devour all of you.” A kiss. “Keep you in my belly.” A nibble. “Until there’s nothing left.”

Ravenous and unable to think of anything else, he bit and nibbled at her mouth. Her neck. Her cheek. Wherever he could reach. Never breaking skin but imaging he could, that she’d let him.

“Al…” She gasped the sweetest sound in the world. 

“Do it.”

He awoke, tranquil and refreshed. Everything was right in his world, a dream he wanted to make prophecy fresh in his mind. 

Until it was not.

“What do you mean she’s not in the hotel?”

Chapter Text

Ynna’s POV

Cold air whipped around your body. Figures barely had time to have their forms registered in your mind as they passed by you. Or maybe it was you passing by them? Right. That sounded in line with the thirst in your lungs and the pulsing energy in your legs. You were running, fast and far with no destination in mind. Every step and every turn was decided on the spot with only one goal, to get away.

Warped mocking laughter played background music to the barely held chaos in your mind, each chuckle and cackle filled with frightening madness. You had to run. Keep running.

You did it. 

A true sinner. 

Irredeemable. Ungrateful.

The voices whispered, always a step behind no matter how fast you went. Their claws snagged at your arms and legs, pushed and pulled at your body but you were always too quick for their grasp.

Tears streamed down your face, getting lost in the void of colors you passed by. What would your mother think if she knew she raised a would-be cannibal? That you sold your slim chances of appealing your afterlife sentence to Heaven just to make some man happy? It was pathetic. You were pathetic.

So why were you also happy?

“Alastor…” His name was lost to the wind, the red hues of Hell surrounding you like the curtain of his hair when he’d caged you in his arms.

Dearest.

He kissed you. Brutal and ravenous, he took your face in his hands and refused to let go until he’d tasted his fill of your mouth. He robbed you of your breath and it was the best and most frightening thing you’d ever experienced. All the buzzing anxiety in your head quieted for just those few moments when his actions didn’t make sense but the way he held you felt so good. You were willing to get swept away in the moment even when your lip stung and and your lungs and your world were set ablaze.