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Alastor slithers out of the shadows below, stepping out from the darkness that pools underneath you. There are hundreds of shadows to pop out of, still it’s your shadow that Alastor chooses to spring out from. There’s a smile painting his lips as he materializes. A deer mask covers half his face.
“Goodness,” you say, mirroring his smile. “What am I supposed to do when strange yet handsome Sinners pop out of my shadow without a warning.”
Alastor steps further into the light. “Handsome?”
And oh… oh .
( Oh, indeed. Alastor is wearing a tail-coat, a vest hidden underneath. Oh god he’s wearing a vest. One side of his hair slick back, allowing stray strands to flutter around the deer mask. When you run your hand across his biceps…you feel it underneath your touch— Sleeves garters .)
The smile on your lips widens, and you’re thankful that a mask covers your own face. “I’d call you handsome any day, sweetheart,” you tell him. “If it’s alright with your wife, of course. Such a charming little thing like you surely belongs to someone.”
“I think I like you better than my wife.” Alastor inches closer to press a kiss. “She never compliments me as much as you do.”
A delighted humm escapes you. “Then she’s quite the fool, for you are quite the charmer.”
Alastor shakes his head, a small laugh escaping as he smoothens some feathers that stick out your head. “You didn’t have to join me tonight,” he says. “I’ll be too busy with work to be next to you.”
“Then you should have thought about that before you gave me an invitation to Charlie’s party.” You reach out to smoothen the lines of his tail-coat, pulling on it to adjust its fit around his body. “And I’m already here, wearing a very, very , expensive dress.”
“Do you even enjoy such parties?” Alastor grabs your wrists before your hands can trail any further. “It seems your mind would rather be somewhere else.”
“There’s food and music, and I get the excuse to wear such a lovely dress.” You pull your wrist from his hold, catching his hand to intertwining your fingers with his. “Do you like it? I hope you do, considering I received it along with the invitation.”
Alastor lifts his arm, twirling you underneath to flare the skirt of the dress. “You look almost as dashing as I do.”
“Ha! And that’s precisely why I must join you, deerest.” You smack his bicep in good fun, barking out a laugh. Dear god, he’s wearing the leather sleeve garter tonight .) “With such dashing good looks, I’l fear others may try to take your attention.”
He flicks your nose. “Stop it.”
Alastor slips off the deer mask, gazing straight into you. Those eyes of his shine brighter than the stars above this Hell. He reaches out, and pulls on the ribbon that secures your own mask to your face.
There are feathers on your mask. It mimics the bird you are. Alastor inches closer, staring straight into you once there’s nothing to obstruct his view.
“That’s mine,” you say, trying to grab your mask.
Alastor shoves the deer mask on your face. The force causes you to stumble back a little. He’s such a nuisance, honestly… but …but well, his fingers brush over your feathers as he ties the ribbon on his mask.
Strands of your feathers flow between his fingers as it lingers. Alastor presses the feathers to his mouth, brushing them with his lips. “I think our masks are a bit too on the nose,” he says, and each word caresses your feathers. “Deer masks suit you much better, and this way, I can spot you from even across the room.”
Alastor inches lower until you meet his eyes. You take the bird mask and tie the ribbon around his head, securing it on him.
There’s a feather that sticks out your head. Alastor picks it out. The stray feather gets waved around until he tucks it within the mask.
You reach out to remove the feather, but Alastor catches your wrist and presses a single kiss on the inside.
“The color of my feathers are different from the ones on the mask,” you tell him. “Come on, take it out. It sticks out a bit too much.”
“I’ll have you know that I quite like the feathers.” Alastor plays with the feather on his mask. “More importantly—tell me about your day. I want to know every second of every minute…it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”
“You would know all about my day if you were living at our home with me,” you tell him, crossing your arms. “You know, the home that we’ve built together for the past few decades?”
Alastor plays with the edges of your pinky before intertwining his fingers around your hand. “Or…” he begins, and presses a single kiss on the wedding ring around your finger. “I would known if you lived at the hotel…with me.”
There’s a smug smile on you. “Are you asking me to live with you?”
“Would you?”
“I would.”
“I’m still rather hesitant to involve you with the hotel…yet I found myself sending an invitation anyway.” Alastor presses a kiss on the edge of your lips, letting himself linger.
“ An invitation?” you say, faking a gasp. “That’s weird because I swore the invitation came with a dress as well. Hmmm, now I’m wondering who sent such a piece to me.”
“I found myself sending an invitation… and a dress .” Alastor rolls his eyes. “But the point still stands, it’s safer if you are at our home. It’s quiet and secure and doesn’t have a giant sign pointing straight at its door.”
“Ah yes…that,” you say. “I heard about it on the televisi—newspaper. It must be tiring to be attacked thrice in one day.”
Alastor shakes his head, pulling you into a tight hug. One hand presses on the back of your head, cradling you gently. “Just before I lose you to my job.”
You steal a kiss from him. “As if you could ever lose me.”
Music beats through the cracks of the Hazbin Hotel’s door. Alastor escorts you inside, a bird mask on his face as he runs his thumb up and down the skin of your hand. You adjust the deer mask on your face before following him deeper inside.
The door opens easily, and you walk inside, arm in arm with the Radio Demon. The fun about masquerade balls is being able to hide behind a mask.
Except from those who really pay attention.
Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. Two drinks are secured around one hand. The second reaches out for a handshake.
Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier.
“Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shake to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively, and the food and drinks are delicious.”
Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask when he sees you reaching out to shake Vox’s hand.
Well, that just won’t do! Alastor takes the handshake intended for you, grabbing Vox’s hand before you can reach it, and shakes his hand with a firmer grip than needed.
You’re determined to enjoy yourself, and Alastor prides himself for being a Husband . (Rosie tells him that there’s a difference between ‘a husband’ and ‘ a Husband’ with one clearly better than the other.) So, Alastor won’t cause a scene—not today at least.
Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips as he shakes Alastor’s hand. It forces you to tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning into his bicep to hide a scowl.
The handshake lasts longer than handshakes should last.
Vox offers you a glass. “I brought drinks to start,” he says, keeping the second glass around his hold closer to him. “I hope I’m remembering this correctly—but you still enjoy lemony flavors, correct?”
“How delightful!” Alastor tries to take the drink intended for you.
Vox quickly retracts the drink, taking a single step backwards. “It’s for the lady.”
Alastor’s smile widens ever so slightly into a snarl.
You take the drink from Vox, smiling as lemony goodness fills your senses. Not many bartenders keep such flavors. Part of you wonders if Alastor organized the bar to keep your favorite drink in stock.
One hand trails up Alastor’s back as static emits from his skin. It snakes around until it hooks behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. It’s just a quick peck of the lips, but Alastor places a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Such things are reserved in the confines of privacy, but it seems he doesn’t mind tonight.
There’s an imprint of your lipstick on his skin. It’s something you don’t bother mentioning to him
“Just before I lose you to the crowd,” you say. “I’m sure you can’t leave your post for so long, and I’ve already kept you for far too long. Don’t worry about me—I won’t be too far from your gaze.”
Alastor presses one last kiss on your cheek before walking away.
With a scowl on his screen, Vox turns the other direction.
You trail behind him, smiling at the second untouched drink around his hand. It seems he’s also wearing a tail-coat tonight, but it doesn’t suit him as handsomely as it does for your husband.
“So, it seems you're here,” Vox tells you, that proud Overlord puff on his chest as he walks around the room. “And here I was wondering why the life in the room suddenly became dull.”
“Funny,” you say, matching his steps. “It seems you’re still pining for my husband—Will you ever give up on him?”
“Ah yes…the same husband who disappeared on your for seven years,” he says, casually swirling the second drink in his hand. “He left you once, he can leave you again.”
You take a sip of your drink, letting the taste of lemon slide down your throat even as your eye twitches from underneath the deer mask. “It’s quite hilarious to know you still remember how my husband hates lemon undertones in his drink.”
“Well, I didn’t want him choking on such unrefined tastes.”
“Is this meant for Alastor?” You grab the second glass from his hand, bringing it closer to your nose. “Whiskey. Ah… it was meant for him. What—were you too scared to give it to him?”
Vox barks out a laugh, crossing his arm. “It’s for me, actually.”
“Then drink it.”
“It’s been compromised by your stench.” Vox takes the glass and tosses it away.
From across the room, Alastor swirls his whiskey and allows his eyes to wander across the crowd. In a room full of Sinners, he can never be too careful especially when you’re involved. It’s then that his eyes catch Vox inching closer to you, and it’s then that his grip on the glass tightens.
Charlie smiles at Alastor as he doesn’t seem to be listening to her. That’s alright—it’s quite loud and drinks often tend to loosen him up. Alastor’s looking at her, but his body faces the crowd as he leans on one of the tables. It’s almost as if he’s looking out.
It’s been the same pattern for almost fifteen-minutes ever since Alastor came back with a bird mask instead of his own deer mask. Charlie would say something, and he would nod. From time to time, Alastor would glance out into the crowd in the same direction his body is facing.
“So, I had an idea to get more sponsors,” Charlie tells him, tapping the glass for her soda. “We can do a whole music number with flowers and dancing and singing, and I just thought you could be our main lead! The genre would be rap music.”
Alastor’s eyes slid to the crowd once more. “What a spectacular idea!”
Charlie follows his gaze until they land on you. Well, that certainly solved the mystery of where his deer mask went and where the bird one came from. One of the feathers on Alstor’s mask matches yours perfectly.
“Do you think we can get more TVs for the hotel?” she asks. “And I don’t mean the old ones, but the flat-screens that are about fifty-inches.”
You glance over at Alastor and Charlie when you notice their looks, and offer a small smile and a wave.
Alastor smiles back, giving you a wave as well. “Perhaps.”
“How about some digital cameras?” she says. “All of us could take a happy family portrait.”
“Of course.”
Wait-staff carry trays of different types of appetizers. Vox snatches a couple tiny platters, offering some to you. The first bite causes you to hum with delight. It’s quite delicious…but quite small. Vox offers another tiny plate to you, and it’s grabbed enthusiastically.
It’s great that Vox took more than one.
He bites into the cracker with some kind of seafood on them, humming at the taste. “You’ve aged.”
“Yes, it seems I have.” You laugh at him, shaking your head as you take another sip of your drink. “I’m quite lucky that I’m in the company of my husband to grow old with. It’s quite the treat to be able to live day to day with Alastor.”
Vox offers you a bite of the cracker.
You take it, nodding and humming with delight at the taste. “ Oh , that’s quite good—here, taste this one.”
At the sight of your laughter, Alastor’s drink shatters into tiny pieces of broken glass. It shatters to the floor.
Charlies raises an eyebrow at him. It only takes a snap of her fingers for magic to work its wonders and clean the broken glass and replace his drink.
“Apologies,” Alastor says, smile widening just a fraction. It doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “I forgot my own strength.”
Once more, Charlie follows Alastor’s gaze until it lands on you, and once more, the glass in his hand shatters when he sees Vox inching closer to offer you some appetizers and then your laughter.
Charlie snaps her fingers and a new drink appears in his hold. “I’m going to run out of glasses eventually.”
Alastor takes a turn around the ballroom after Charlie kicks him away from the corner. It’s all he can do to call his growing ire to keep the guests happy. Afterall, it’s him who controls his emotions and not the other way around. There’s also the matter of his job.
A Sinner blocks his patch, a doll-like smile on her face. “Do you happen to be the Radio Demon?”
“In the flesh!” Alastor’s smile widens to show off the yellow in his teeth, giving a little bow.
“I wasn’t sure with the mask,” she says, motioning towards it. “My friends said they spotted you earlier with a deer mask, but it seems you’ve changed it. I quite like the feathers .... Although, the one that’s different kind of sticks out.”
A muscle in his cheek tightens. “I’m quite fond of that feather,” he says. “It means quite a lot to me, and I don’t take kindly to those who insult what is precious to me.”
“Oh…of course,” she says. “It suits you quite well.”
She points a finger towards his bowtie. It seems it’s a bit crooked. There’s a smile on her face as she reaches out her sully hands to fix it.
Alastor takes a single step back, making it a point to show it off to her that he’s doing so.
The doll-like smile on her face wobbles a little. That’s fine. Alastor always hated dolls. “Oh…um…,” she says, scrambling to recover. “There’s a stain on your lips.”
His ears flicker for a moment, but he runs his thumb across his mouth. Red stains his gloves. It’s the color of your lipstick. “It seems I do.”
“Been drinking too much wine tonight?” She offers him a handkerchief.
“No need.” Alastor takes out his own handkerchief. It has his initials carefully embroidered on them. He goes to wipe your stain on his lips, but decides against it. “The wine they serve here is quite bland, but luckily there’s something much sweeter on the palate.”
Her smile fades into a frown when she notices the embroidery on the edges of his handkerchief.
Alastor continues to stand with a smile as she tries her best to compliment him in the smallest of ways. It’s quite nice to hear such compliments that inflate his ego.
Although… It's a bit weird.
The thrill of sudden recognition doesn’t hit as high as before. It’s just stagnant now. Praise doesn’t thrill him like they should.
Alastor allows his mind to wander, and his ego inflated to the highest degree when he imagines you standing before him instead, saying the things this random Sinner tells him. (He should figure out a way to get you to compliment him more.)
Plates of food and dozens of empty glass litter the bar table. It’s the aftermath of downing unlimited alcohol and enjoying some appetizers as insults are hurled that not even a merciful god can forgive.
Vox takes a bite of the olive and flicks the toothpick that came with his drink. It lands between your feathers.
A curse escapes your mouth as you try to dig it out. “Why are you even here?”
“It’s a party.” Vox hands you another drink. “I like the music, the drinks are unlimited, and this is quite fun.”
The drink gets downed in one gulp, and you flick the toothpick at a passing Sinner’s hair. It lands between the strands of his hair. “That’s one more point for me,” you say, pumping your fist. “Come on, TV boy—give me my point.”
Vox’s head flashes. It goes from his face to a screen with both your names on it. The number below your name increases on point before his face returns once more.
You shimmy a little dance as your point increases.
Vox makes a face, cringing at your dance. “You’re such a fucking loser.”
“Ha! His loser,” you say, sticking out your tongue.
“You’re still five points down,” he tells you, scowling as he grabs a passing drink from a waiter. “Why suggest this game if you’re not even good at it.”
You shrug, grumbling a little. “I always win against Alastor.”
“Are we not going to get in trouble?” Vox swirls the drink in his hand. “This is still a royal’s party.”
“Aren’t you an Overlord?” you say, taking another bite of a cracker. “Act like it. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s going to call you out.”
The music catches your attention, and it pulls your focus to the dance floor. Oh…Alastor’s dancing. His broad back puffs out as he moves across the floor with purpose and grace. There’s a charming smile on his face as he dances along the beat of the music.
That looks fun.
It would certainly be a shame to waste such a beautiful dress by blending in with the decorations on the walls.
You turn to Vox. “Care to dance?”
Vox takes another toothpick, flicking it. It missed the Sinner’s hair. He curses while you pump your fist. “With you?” he says, making a face “Ew—no, that’s disgusting.”
“Alastor’s dancing right now,” you say. “It looks fun.”
Vox raises an eyebrow and glaces to the dance floor. A snarl appears on his lips when he notices that smug smile on the woman dancing with Alastor. “A new challenger?”
You tilt your head, and feathers slide across your face as you observe Alastor dancing. Oh, Vox’s right. There’s a woman with him right now. “Oooooh, who’s that? She’s quite the belle—smash.”
Vox turns to you, making a face. It’s quite funny to see. “Do you even know what that mean—”
“I know what I said.”
His screen shifts and paragraphs of information appear on his face. “Oh…she’s one of the daughters of the Ars Goetia.” The scowl on his face deepens as he continues watching, and he offers an arm towards you. “Come on—let’s dance. Game on, bitch.”
“Just ignore her,” you tell him. “She’s no threat to me, and I allow you to flirt with Alastor all the time.”
“That’s because I play fair,” Vox says, rolling his eyes. “We have our rules, and it creates order. This bitch doesn’t know that…and hasn’t someone ever told her—three’s a crowd.”
Once more, you turn to the dance floor. Alastor’s graceful movements catch your eyes and a delighted hum escapes your lips. His body dances with control and power. There’s awe in the woman’s face as Alastor dances with her.
That’s alright—she’s only doing her due diligence.
Only a blind fool wouldn’t appreciate how Alastor’s hair sways with each side-step, or how his tail-coat fits handsomely across his back, or how charming his smile paints across his lips, or how the dress-pants he wears compliments how long his legs are.
Vox may be a fool but at least he isn’t blind.
“Holy fuck! Woman—get it together!” Vox points towards the dance floor, to the Sinner dancing with Alastor.
There’s a triumph in her smile. She dances with Alastor as if she won.
Vox watches your expression carefully, chuckling as a cold look steels your face despite the gentle smile. Oh, it is so on .
“Well, this just won’t do. If there’s one thing I hate—it’s those who don’t know their place,” you say, snaking your arm around Vox with a smile. “Game on, bitch.”
Vox escorts you towards the middle of the dance floor, that proud Overlord puff back on his chest. It’s quite easy to match his movements when he always was quite the talented dancer.
“Hey…,” you say, eyes twitching. “What are you doing?”
Vox’ hands hover above your skin, refusing to make contact. “I’m afraid that if I touch you, my life would turn to ruin like everything else that has had the misfortune of meeting you,” he tells you, a triumphant smile on his lips. “And you’re doing the exact same thing!”
“That’s because I’m married. It would be improper of me to be touching such a slimy Sinner.” You slam the point of your heel right on his shoe. “My apologies…it would be much easier to dance if you’re actually holding me.”
Vox steps on your toes, and you snarl at him. “You first, witch.”
“As you say whenever Velvette tells you to take a bath—no thanks.”
“The I guess you say the same thing about shampoo—”
“May I interrupt?” There’s a wide smile on Alastor’s lips that show off the yellow in his teeth. He stands in the middle of the ballroom, not caring as others give him weird looks for blocking the path. Alastor stands proud as his hand offers itself to you.
Across the dance floor, there’s an irritated look on the woman’s face when Alastor abandoned her mid-dance. There’s a smile on your lips as you show her what real triumph looks like.
Vox smiles at him, and hands you towards your husband. “Of course.”
He takes your hand, playing with the tips of your fingers before intertwining them. A hand snakes around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. The music flows slowly across the room. It’s sweet melodies forcing you to lean your head on his chest.
Alastor squeezes your hand.
You squeeze back.
His legs slide between your as Alastor dips you low, a hand on the small of your back to support your waist. He takes the lead in this waltz, spinning and twirling your around while pressing himself as close as possible to you.
The side of his cheek, nuzzles into the crown of your feathers as you’re swayed around the ballroom.
“I’ve found myself in a bit of a corner,” you say, snaking your hand up and down his back as if to pet it. “I owe Vox two dances. You interrupted the first, but there’s still the matter of the second one.”
Alastor’s hand tightens around you, and shadows flare around the room. It causes dancing couples to instinctively take a step away. “Did he force you into a deal?”
“Not at all,” you say, nuzzling into his hold. “I lost a bet, that’s all. You know me, I get rather competitive, and got a little bored a while ago after getting my fill of food and drinks.”
“I’ll take your place so just stay far away from him.” Alastor’s smile turns into a snarl. “Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again after this.”
You go on the tip of your toes to press a kiss. “Thank you.”
Alastor twirls you underneath his arm. “I never got to ask…,” he begins. “How do you like my outfit?”
“It suits you very well, my love,” you tell him. “In fact, I have to say that you are the most handsomest of handsome, and those pants really do you some justice.”
Alastor flicks your nose. “Stop it.”
“Should I really?”
“No…,” he says, leaning into your ear. “I want to hear more.”
The dance ends eventually, and Alastor behind you with one hand on your shoulders and the other holding you to escort you like a gentleman.
Vox greets you with a wave, another drink around his hand.
You step out of Alastor’s hold and press a hand on Vox’ shoulder to whisper into his ear. “As you dance with my husband, I want you to know that he’s taking your hand only because I allow it,” you tell him with a smile. “I want you to know that it’s only possible because of the permission I grant you.”
Vox snorts and offers a hand out for Alastor. “Understood.”
The musicians play their instruments and music once again fills the dancefloor. Sinners stay paces away as Vox and Alastor dance, especially given the threatening expression on Alastor’s face. It’s funny how Vox doesn’t seem to mind Alastor’s darkened gaze. The irritated look on your husband's face makes you a bit guilty. Oh well, you’ll make it up to him later.
The dance ends, and both Vox and Alastor go their separate ways once more. There’s a twinkle in Vox’s eyes as he gives you a small nod of farewell. It has you shaking your head.
Alastor wipes his hands before taking your hand once more. “Let’s go.”
“Already?” you say, frowning. “We’ve only had one dance so far.”
“We can dance to your heart's content, my love…just not here,” Alastor says, fixing the straps of your dress. His hands ghost around the zipper, and it lingers there for more than a moment. “Apparently, I’ve maxed out my working days. Charlie told me it was in my contract and I have to spend them before I can go back to work at the hotel. She practically kicked me out. So, I have the next few days off.”
“That’s good.”
“Shall we go?” Alastor brings your hand closer, pressing a kiss on the ring around your finger. “Home— our home.”
“Really?” you say. “You’re going to go home with me?”
“For the next two weeks.”
Alastor watches your smile brighten as your eyes crinkle. It’s the most precious thing in this ballroom, and its radiance can light up the whole room. You spring up to hug him, squealing as you wrap your arms around his neck. The force of your hug causes him to take a couple steps back to keep from falling over. Alastor places a hand on the small of your back to steady you.
His bowtie is crooked.
You point towards it,and reach out a hand to straighten the fabric. Alastor takes a single step forward, leaning down to allow more access. The pads of your thumb smoothen his crooked bowtie.
Vox catches your eyes and he toasts a drink in your direction.
You remove the wedding ring around your finger, slipping it over your middle finger instead. The ring and the finger are presented to Vox as you leave with Alastor’s arm around your waist.
Game on, bitch .