Hazbin Hotel Masterlist: Women Who Need Their Love Monstrous
Mature audiences only. Lover of poetic prose and morally questionable men. My very specific kink is converting readers who have never liked Reader Inserts over to the dark side. 😈
SERIES
♡ Dealbreaker (Alastor x Reader)
What you'll find: witchcraft, human sacrifices, baking, forced proximity, slow burn, a lot of plot (what have I done), reader is married to ancient demon
Most people don't need an ancient Sumerian ritual to summon their estranged husband, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The residents of the Hazbin Hotel will need archaic forbidden magic to protect all of Hell from destruction. These pompous modern overlords have forgotten the ways of the elder ones, but they'll learn the hard way from the woman who won her freedom from an ancient demon and got him to put a ring on it. Amicable separations are for mature adults—and nobody is more mature than the woman who was once offered as a human virgin sacrifice, thank you very much.
You just need the Radio Demon to stop sticking his nosy antlers where they don't belong. He is burnt sugar and bad intentions, and baby, you've seen it all before.
Excerpt: Go, Alastor wants to say. Enjoy this before I lead you to my altar and demand devotion.
♡ Maneater (Vox x Reader, Alastor x Reader)What you'll find: femdom, reader hunting Vox, Alastor hunting reader, scheming, smut
They call you Maeve the Maneater. Maeve the Mindfucker. You're the top dominatrix in the Pride Ring, and your latest assignment—retrieving a memory from Vox—should be just another game of manipulation. You've been hired to break him, and you're more than ready to deliver justice to bad men.
But your first mistake is studying the Radio Demon, Alastor, to understand how to unravel Vox. What starts as a calculated move soon turns into something far more dangerous. As Alastor interferes for his own twisted amusement in your hunt for Vox, the lines between hunter and hunted blur. Caught between two powerful demons, you’re drawn into a storm of power, lust, and dangerous emotions—one that threatens to strip you of more than just control.
Excerpt: Vox tastes like industry. Brutality. The closing of a good day at the stock market.
♡ The Bone Witch (Human Alastor x Reader)
What you'll find: reader speaks to the dead, ghost/monster of the week adventures, uh oh who is that at your window
Your grandmother was run out of New Orleans for being a witch. Decades later, you’re heading straight for the Crescent City. When a suitor turned up dead in your small hometown’s church graveyard—without you so much as touching him—the whispers grew too loud to bear.
In the 1930s, a clever woman can make a living speaking to the dead, and New Orleans is a city where spirits are always eager to talk.
But one voice rises above the rest—smooth, dangerous, drawing you in like a song you can’t ignore. He might be something worse than the devil Mama warned you about.
The dead may have called you here, but he’s the one who’s keeping you.
Excerpt: "Frances, you can try to run from me. It won't work." His gaze is merciless. "I'll find you, but if it makes you feel better, I'll give you a long leash."
ONE-SHOT SERIES
A Curation of Sharp and Lovely Things (Book of One-Shots that will feature Reader x Alastor, Reader x Lucifer, Reader x Vox)
What you'll find: mostly smut
All the stories that won't stop scratching at the coffin lid: one shots, novellas, and more.
A graveyard of writings featuring Alastor x Reader, Vox x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, and more.
Questionable morals, smut, and the romanticization of deeply flawed maniacs inside.
Table of Contents for A Curation of Sharp and Lovely Things:
The Serpent and His Chainsaw Heart (Lucifer x Reader) - The King of Hell is a big fan. He’s also lonely. You know this because he’s told you no less than three times, always while making excuses to interrupt your writing.
Excerpt: If you tilt your head to one side and strain to listen, it is the sound of the serpent cutting through the grass.
The Last Quiet Breath of a Star (Human Alastor x Reader) - His love is patient, like rot. It waits, it spreads, it wins. When a star dies, what comes next?
Excerpt: He sits on the edge of your bed like a beautiful nightmare. It is rather rude that God cursed you with seeing the future and blessed him with the face of an angel while he guts the men of this city.
Miscommunication: A Valhalla of Your Own Making (Alastor x Reader) - Only Alastor thinks a woman is attempting to seduce him when she asks if she can bludgeon him.
Excerpt: “Finally,” he rasps, eyes burning with vicious, triumphant hunger. “Was beginning to think you’d never take the bait.”
Coming Soon:
Unveiled, At Last (Vox x Reader): One night. One mask. One anonymous mistake—you slept with the worst overlord in Hell, and now he’s setting the underworld ablaze to find the woman behind the disguise.
The Alternate (Alastor x Reader): In this timeline, he is your perfect Alastor: podcast host, history nerd, and perfect boyfriend four years running. Too bad about that other timeline that comes knocking.
Cover Art: Graphic design is my passion~
May your love stories be absolutely bone-chilling, darling.
𓆩♡𓆪 Pairing ➛ HH-Lucifer Morningstar x wife !fem reader x daughter Charlie (they're both her bio parents so no Lilith here).
𓆩♡𓆪 Inspired by this ask <3
𓆩♡𓆪 Genre ➛ established relationship (married with family obi), angst, hurt, fluff, comfort.
𓆩♡𓆪 Summary ➛ The fallout from Vox was already weighing heavily on you when shouting erupted nearby. Charlie was fighting with Lucifer—your daughter and your husband locked in a storm of raised voices. In her anger, your little princess hurled cruel words at her father, words you overheard and found yourself unable to simply let slide.
𓆩♡𓆪 Warnings ➛ Nothing here that is worth noting but I would like to preface this by saying that I was a little hesitant to post this/even write it. The reason for that is because I know that a LOT of people have a LOT of strong opinions about this scene (including myself). Which is causing me to worry a little about how you all would receive this. I think my opinion about Charlie as a character is shown a little bit through this and I'd like to emphasize that I LOVE CHARLIE OKAY?? But loving someone/ loving a character doesn't equal not holding them accountable when they fuck up (which was unfortunately a lot in this season). Anyway, i do hope that you enjoy this regardless of everything and anything else. Please tell me your thoughts about this and let's have a healthy discussion <3
𓆩♡𓆪 Word Count ➛ 4.7k
𓆩♡𓆪Author's note ➛ First post semi-back after my little break Yayy!!! This has been A LONG time coming you guys and I'm so sorry to the anon that requested this for taking so long (pls forgive me<3). I hope you enjoy it regardless and I do hope that you find it worth the wait <3
General Masterlist
"You ruined everything for me, dad!! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!!"
You heard the loud sound of your daughter's voice all the way from the hotel suite you and Lucifer shared. You didn't especially enjoy staying here, always feeling more comfortable in your own palace but you figured you'd deal with it for a few months just until Charlie got back on her feet.
"WHY WOULD YOU GO AND THREATEN VOX??!"
"Sweetie, that's not what-"
You were already putting your book down and getting off your spot from the bed. You slipped your feet into a pair of comfy slippers, grabbed your robe and prayed that neither of them would set the place on fire.
It was always a shit show when your husband and daughter fought, because it rarely happened. Lucifer usually gave in to Charlie and she loved you both too much to really go against the two of you.
But on the rare occasions where they actually had a disagreement, it was hell, more than it already is.
Resulting in the screaming match you were listening to as you rushed down the hallways. Grateful that it was late enough for the guests to be asleep, you didn't need the people to know that there was a division between the royal family.
Your feet paddled down the stairs until you made it to the communal room area where you, Lucifer and the rest of Charlie's friends usually hung out.
You pushed the doors open and the sight you saw was heartbreaking. Charlie's long blonde hair was all tussled, probably from the way she was pacing back and forth in anger.
Her voice sounded scratchy from her yelling, her face slightly flushed and her finger lifted up as it pointed straight at her father's face.
And the look on his face...Oh you hated it.
"What is going on here?!!" You yelled out as you closed the doors behind you. Your eyes wide and a little panicky as they locked with your husband's who looked at you from over Charlie's shoulder.
Lucifer's expression softened the moment he spotted you. You could almost physically see him deflate when your eyes met.
Seeing you there was like he suddenly realized how bad this whole affair looked. How bad he looked. Fighting in front of you like this, fighting with Charlie...it made his chest clench tight.
And honestly, he hated himself a little for the way he felt relief wash over him the second you walked in. But he knew that the one person who could possibly deal with him and Charlie was you.
He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the angry, high pitch of Charlie's voice, still shouting.
Charlie hadn't been paying attention to the door, too busy yelling to even hear you calling out.
"I TOLD you Vox had a huge following!! That he's one of the most popular overlords out there! But did you listen to me?! Of course you didn't. And the way you approached him? Seriously?!"
She let out a bitter, frustrated laugh. "All the work I've been putting in, just to make this hotel work and what did you do?! You went and destroyed all of it!"
"Charlotte Morningstar!!"
The sound of your voice rang sharply throughout the room. The sound finally caused Charlie to freeze before she locked her eyes with her father. But Lucifer only sighed, not liking where this was about to go.
Charlie slowly turned to look at you, her sweet mother, standing there in a pretty pink sleeping dress with a matching robe. But she knew better than to fall for the pretty sight in front of her.
Because the look you had in your eyes right now, the anger she saw in your gaze was one that she didn't see often.
Matter of fact, the last time she's seen you this angry at her was a few dozen thousand years ago when she had gotten a bellybutton piercing without your permission. That definitely wasn't a fun day either.
"Mom, I-"
"No. You don't get to talk."
Your voice cracked through the air like a whip, sharp and unyielding. Charlie flinched—she knew that tone. It was the one reserved for when she'd truly crossed a line, the kind of voice that didn't raise but instead dropped low and cold, carrying centuries of authority.
You took slow steps forward, your slippers silent against the floor. Your eyes were locked onto her, not with disappointment, not yet—but with something deeper, a mix of disbelief and sadness.
"You do not speak to your father like that."
Each word was deliberate, measured. You stopped just short of her, looking up, because even as an adult angel woman she still had a few inches on you—and held her gaze steady.
"He is your father. The King of Hell. My husband."
You didn't shout, it wasn’t necessary. "And you are screaming at him like he is nothing."
Charlie's eyes started to fill up with a look of frustration. Feeling like you were being unfair towards her.
"But mom, you don't know what he did. He fucked up everything for me, after all I worked for!!"
Her voice was starting to get higher in pitch again as if she suddenly remembered why she was angry again.
"And that gives you the right to speak this way?!! Haven't we raised you better than that?"
Your own voice was hard but calm, trying to not let this whole situation get to you.
"Honey...it's my fault. I'm the one that-"
Your hand shot up, stopping your husband in the midst of him trying to defend his daughter, despite everything.
"I know exactly what he did."
You calmly and coldly explained to Charlie, but she only looked at you in disbelief. She thought that you didn't know what had happened, or that when you found out, you'd be on her side.
"And I will be having a talk with your father about that."
You continued and shot a quick glare at your husband who immediately swallowed nervously.
"But that is not a conversation that you will be a part of, young lady." Charlie parted her lips to argue back but you were quicker on your feet.
"I'd like to address your own behavior first, darling. Since it seems like no one in this whole hotel has managed to hold you accountable."
Charlie's mouth was open just a crack, your cold demeanor throwing her off. She suddenly felt all thirteen hundred years old again. She swallowed dryly, the anger and fury that was filling her just a few minutes ago suddenly starting to slowly melt away.
You had a way of doing that, even when she was as old as she was now, you could still make her feel like a little girl.
She averted her gaze, dropping it to the floor, her shoulders slumping as she slowly folded in on herself. You could tell she was starting to feel guilty already, the shame of lashing out at her own father suddenly hitting her like a truck.
Charlie was very much like Lucifer, stubborn and impulsive, but she usually hid it under her bubbly persona, trying hopelessly to be the sweet, patient daughter that all parents dream of having.
Lucifer, on the other hand, was completely silent. He knew he was already in trouble and trying very hard not to make it worse.
She opened her mouth again, this time not angry but pleading,
"Mom… you don’t get it—"
"I get it."
You cut in firmly. "I get that you’ve poured your soul into this place." Your voice softened slightly, but only a little.
"I see the late nights. I see the stress under your eyes when you think no one’s watching. I hear every time you whisper 'Please work' before turning off the lights in your office."
A beat passed, one where even Lucifer held his breath.
"But none of that gives you permission," you continued, "to lose control and attack someone who loves you more than anyone or anything else."
"You do not scream at family."
"You do not point fingers at your father like he is some enemy."
"And especially?"
You took another step closer. "Especially when he stood up and faced Vox. A piece of scum creature who would love nothing more than to destroy both him and me—for you."
"For YOUR dream!"
Your voice rang out with power now, not prideful like Lucifer's usual tone, nor loud like Charlie's tantrum but full of quiet fury that carried divine weight.
"He made a mistake? Fine! We’ll deal with it! But don’t pretend he didn't step into Hellfire for you tonight!"
Her head hung low in slight shame now but you continued.
"And certainly don't pretend like you didn't have a hand in it."
Lucifer stepped forward now, his eyes begging you to just stop talking already, he knew where you were about to go with this and he didn't want to see it.
"My love, stop." This was probably the first full sentence he's uttered since Charlie started yelling at him in the first place.
You turned to look at him sharply but he knew better. He always did. He could see it in your eyes, you didn't want to do this either.
"No. She needs to hear this."
You said to your husband but he only shook his head at you, not wanting to have this conversation now or ever actually.
Because one thing about Charlie, she was a daddy's girl. And her daddy hated seeing her get scolded.
"Hear what, mom?! Would you stop talking about me as if I'm not standing right there?!!"
Charlie said with growing frustration as her eyes darted back and forth between her parents who seemed like they were having a silent conversation with their gazes.
You sighed a little, not wanting to do this either.
"Look, darling. We know how hard this has been for you, especially after what happened to your friend."
Your voice was gentle as you spoke carefully, yet you could instantly see Charlie going to defense mode. She clearly didn't want to hear this.
"Mom, this is not about that!"
"Oh yes, it very much is. You've been acting a mess, Charlotte. You're very emotionally charged and you've been making rash decisions that are hurting the hotel, the people around you and even yourself."
Charlie's eyebrows furrowed at that, her body jerking back a little at your words, and the words were starting to spill out of her mouth before she could even stop.
"Oh so that's why you came down here? You just came to defend dad and then ambush and attack me?!!"
Your heart broke at that and Lucifer quickly jumped in. "Angel, your mother is just trying to help you."
Charlie completely ignored him.
"Help me?!" She echoed in disbelief. "Help me how? By making me feel even more like an absolute joke and failure and disappointment?"
"I am not attacking you, my love." You said softly but you were clearly holding your ground.
"I am being your mother by telling you the truth that no one else seems to tell you, because that's what family does."
You stepped forward again, this time closing the distance between you and Charlie. Before reaching out slowly and gently cupping her face in both of your hands. Her skin was warm beneath your palms.
"You are so strong… so kind… so driven."
Your voice cracked just slightly as you caressed the skin of her flushed cheek. "And I love watching you grow into the woman you’re becoming."
Charlie's eyes softened at that, her eyes threatening to fill up with tears as she looked down at her feet, too ashamed now to meet your gaze.
"But strength doesn’t mean never making mistakes."
"And passion shouldn’t be mistaken for chaos. And I love that you wish to see the best in everyone, my darling."
You felt your heart tightening at this last part, hating the fact that you had to say this to your sweet daughter.
"But you cannot be this naive forever, Lottie."
Lucifer almost winced out loud at that, knowing very well that his little princess inherited this trait from him. But he watched you continue, you were always stronger than him, despite everyone thinking otherwise.
Always holding your ground, always saying the hard truths even if it hurts you the most out of everyone.
Meanwhile, you tilted Charlie's face up so she would look at you. Staring into your daughter's eyes, wanting her to fully hear and understand what you were saying to her.
"You are a leader now, with a lot of responsibility and a lot of people who are counting on you. And a good leader should have the ability to discern between who deserves kindness and understanding and who doesn't."
Charlie's lips went up into a pout that started quivering. The sight reminded you of her as a child, how she would cry for you and lift her arms up so you'd take her into your arms to comfort her.
And this time, it was you who had to try and hold it together. "I know you’re hurting, baby."
"You miss Pentious ," you whispered, "and losing him… it broke something inside of all of us."
Charlie's tears fell freely now while you gently tried to brush them away.
"It’s okay to grieve," you continued softly, “but don’t let grief turn into impulsiveness and rage, and don't take it out on someone who would burn worlds just to see you smile.”
"Your father may have overstepped tonight…"
You turned slightly to glance at Lucifer, his golden eyes holding an overwhelming amount of emotions that you couldn't even begin describing. Then you looked back at Charlie.
"But can we really say none of this was coming? That we didn't all see how overwhelmed and reckless you’ve been lately?"
Charlie didn't say anything for a long moment. Her shoulders trembled slightly as she stood there, your hands still gently cradling her face. The fight had completely drained out of her — not because she was defeated, but because she could finally breathe.
Because you weren’t scolding her out of anger. You were holding space for all the things left unsaid.
Her voice, when it finally came, was small and fragile in a way that broke both your hearts.
"...I just wanted to fix everything."
She whispered, eyes glassy and lost. "After Pentious... I couldn’t save him… I couldn’t even protect my own hotel from Vox without Dad stepping in..."
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, "...and now he's gonna use what Dad did against me."
"And worse... everyone’s gonna think I can't do this on my own."
She sniffled, shaking slightly under your touch. "I don't want to be just 'Hell’s princess’ anymore... I want to prove that this is my mission. That I can make it work..."
Tears spilled over again as her voice cracked.
"But every time I try... something goes wrong…"
Your eyes softened infinitely at that, your heart breaking for your child and you knew Lucifer felt the same. You could see him for your peripheral vision wiping a tear away quickly.
"Oh my sweet angel..." You cooed softly as you brought her down into a hug. Shushing her softly as she started to sob like a big baby into your shoulder.
"You don't have to do this alone, darling. You have so many great people around you who care about you, about your dream and who want to help you. Including me and your dad."
You gently combed your fingers through her blonde locks, your cheek pressed up against the side of her head as you tried to comfort her.
"You can't expect to not make any mistakes ever. This is your first independent project ever, obviously you're gonna make mistakes, it's natural."
She sniffled more into your shoulder and you could see Lucifer taking a few hesitant steps towards the two of you before he halted. But you locked eyes with him and gave him a nod, urging him to come closer.
And he didn't wait anymore, he quickly reached you before lifting his hand up and placing it on Charlie's back. His movement hesitant and careful but it was full of love and care.
"We just don't want you to fall into the same mistake over and over. We just want you to learn, my love."
"But to do that, you need to give us a chance, give your friends and girlfriend a chance to help you. You can't just shoulder everything on your own."
Charlie's arms came up to cling to you, clutching at your dress in a way that made her seem like a child all over again.
She nodded weakly into your shoulder in response to your words, hiccuping a little while trying to regain control of her voice.
That's when Lucifer's touch joined yours, his large hand rubbing gentle circles into her back. Charlie inhaled in a shaky breath and slowly pulled away.
She sniffled again as she looked to Lucifer and suddenly more tears rolled down her cheeks as an overwhelming feeling of guilt hit her, feeling bad for the way she treated him earlier
"Daddy...."
She pulled away from your hold and reached for him hesitantly. Lucifer instantly closed the gap between them as he quickly folded her into his arms.
He buried one hand in her hair, his other hand rubbing her back in a soothing motion as he pressed a kiss onto the top of her head.
Charlie wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder as she finally let herself breakdown completely. She knew they were right, but she had already been so overwhelmed that everything had felt too much to handle. All that anger was just bubbling over.
"I'm so sorry, daddy..." She sobbed out in between her tears while he shushed her gently.
"It's okay, my darling...it's okay. I'm the one who should apologize. I swear I didn't mean to mess things up for you, I was just trying to help."
Lucifer held her close, one hand gently combing through her hair as he pressed soft kisses to the top of her head.
"It’s alright, my sweet girl… shhh…"
He murmured against golden strands, "I should’ve talked to you first. Should’ve let you handle it your way."
His voice was thick with emotion, not because he was angry, but because he hated seeing his daughter in pain. And even more so when it came from something he caused.
"I got overprotective again... I know I do that. But not because I don’t believe in you."
He pulled back just enough to look into her tear-streaked face, his golden eyes glistening with unshed tears of his own.
"It’s because I believe in you too much," he whispered, "and the thought of anyone hurting your dream—hurting you, makes me lose my mind."
A small, shaky breath escaped him as he reached up and gently wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
"You’re going to change Hell, Charlie. That much is clear… but even kings and queens need a council."
He glanced back at you as he said that. You just stood back silently, letting them have their moment as you watched him, your gaze filled with a mix of love, sadness and concern at the state of your daughter.
Charlie sniffed, not letting go of her father as she leaned against him, letting herself be comforted again.
She knew he was right. She always did… she was just stubborn and her temper often got the better of her.
She was a lot more like her father, something she never acknowledged but was painfully aware of in times like this.
She finally lifted her head to look back at you, guilt and shame written all over her face. "Mom, I… I'm so, so sorry..."
You gave her a small, sad smile as you heard her apology, your arms going up in a matter of seconds towards her. And she didn't hesitate, instantly moving away from Lucifer to get into your embrace this time.
You wrapped your arms around her tightly, never getting over the fact that your little girl was indeed taller than you now.
"My little baby....You know that mommy loves you right and just wants the best for you, right~?"
You whispered softly into her ear as you rubbed her back, and you could just see the pout on her teary face even without being able to properly look at her.
Meanwhile, your husband watched with a small relieved smile, glad that things settled down this way.
Charlie nodded weakly, clinging to her mother in a very childish way. She buried her face into the crook of your neck, her voice trembling slightly. "I know… I do… I-I just-"
She let out a shaky sigh, not sure how to finish that sentence. She was feeling better, of course, but the mix of guilt, disappointment and shame over her earlier actions still weighed heavily on her heart.
But you dropped another long kiss to the side of her head, and she knew that she didn't need to explain herself any longer. You understood.
Lucifer came up beside you, placing a hand on the small of your back and rubbing soothing circles along your spine silently.
Charlie finally pulled back slightly, wiping at her cheeks with the heels of her palms as she looked between you both. Her expression was more settled now, though still tinged with lingering guilt.
"I...I think I need to apologize to Vaggie too," she admitted quietly. "I snapped at her earlier when she tried to talk to me about all this..."
Lucifer squeezed your waist gently in silent support before stepping forward to ruffle Charlie's hair affectionately.
"That's my girl. Owning up to mistakes is what makes a good leader too, ya know." His tone was lighter now, playful pride coloring his words.
You smiled warmly and smoothed Charlie's tousled locks back into place. "And I do agree with that,"
You started gently as you lifted your hand up to rest it on your husband's bicep before you continued.
"But I do think that maybe you should take the night, honey. You went through a lot today and I'm sure Vaggie needs some space to process things as well."
Charlie nodded in agreement, still feeling the exhaustion of the emotional and mental stress from the event.
"You're… right." She sighed softly, trying to push aside the lingering guilt to give you a lopsided, albeit watery smile. "I'll talk to Vaggie tomorrow."
Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close against his side as he returned Charlie's smile with a gentle one of his own.
"Good." He nodded approvingly, his hand going up to run through Charlie's hair again.
"Now go on… get some rest."
Charlie nodded again, her tired eyes starting to feel heavier as the last of the emotional tension finally drained out of her. "I will…"
She leaned in, threw her arms around the two of you for a big group hug—pressed two kisses to both your cheeks before she finally pulled away to go to her room.
Lucifer's gaze stayed on her until she disappeared around the corner, his hold around you never once going slack. He sighed deeply, and his head fell forward to rest against your shoulder as he finally allowed himself to let his own tension go.
You felt him let out a long huff, his free hand going up to rub at his face tiredly.
"Good lord, that was so rough...." He groaned out quietly, sounding emotionally exhausted from everything.
But when you didn't say anything back, he lifted his head up to look at you. And instantly he stiffened a little as he saw you looking at him with a deadpanned look.
He definitely forgot about the conversation you mentioned earlier.
"Don't think you're off the hook so fast, sir."
Your voice sounded stern as you spoke to your now nervous husband, because when you told Charlie that you were gonna talk to Lucifer about what he did, you meant it.
Meanwhile, he swallowed nervously as he moved away a bit to stand in front of you now. His hands went to hold onto the edges of your opened house robe.
"Baby....My love. Listen..."
He trailed off with a nervous sounding tone, while you instantly moved your hands to your hips as you tilted your head to the side with one of your eyebrows lifted.
Lucifer's golden eyes widened slightly at your stern expression — that look, the one you gave him when he knew he was in real trouble. The one that meant: I love you, but you're about to get lectured like a child.
He swallowed again.
"Angel... come on," he started, his voice suddenly smooth and honeyed as if trying to charm his way out of this,
"can’t we just… go to bed? We’re both exhausted, emotionally drained—" he added dramatically,
"and frankly, the night’s already been traumatic enough for all three of us."
His hands gently tugged at the edges of your robe again, a subtle plea wrapped in physical affection. "I said I was sorry… and I meant it."
He pouted slightly, leaning in ever so close so his forehead rested against yours while you tried to glare up at him but ultimately, he got to you.
"You shouldn't have done that."
"I know...."
"That was a really stupid move."
"You're right..."
"And I don't understand why you didn't come to talk to me about it first-"
"You were having a nice bath and I didn't want to disturb you-"
"Are you being so fucking serious right now, Lucifer?!"
He whined out loudly and almost a little pathetically at that before he dropped his face into your neck. His arms wrapping themselves around you even tighter now to try and appease you.
"I know, I know, I swear I do~"
You let out a long, exasperated sigh, your expression still stern even as he tried to get you to soften up to him.
His whining only served to make you even more annoyed as you felt his pout against your skin. The fact that you were finding it absolutely endearing just made you madder.
You stood there for a moment with your eyes closed, trying to organize your thoughts. And also, trying to ignore the feeling of your husband nuzzling into the crook of your neck, feeling his warm breath against your skin, his arms tight around you.
Finally, you opened your eyes.
"Never again, Lucifer. And I mean that."
You finally got the words out, still keeping your voice steady, wanting him to take this seriously and you knew that deep down he did.
He lifted his head slightly, but kept it resting against your neck as he let out a soft, remorseful hum. His fingers curled gently around the fabric of your robe at your waist.
"I know…" he murmured, "I won’t. Not again."
His voice was low, no charm, no theatrics, just quiet sincerity. He turned his head just enough to press a soft kiss to the side of your throat.
"I didn’t mean to overstep…I really thought I was helping."
He sighed again, this time with more weight. "But you’re right, it wasn’t my place. It’s her mission. Her dream."
Another kiss against your skin, tender and lingering, and you were already melting.
"And she has to learn how to fight her own battles... even if it kills me watching her get hurt."
A pause.
"Just…" his voice dipped into that velvety purr you knew all too well, "can we please go to bed now? We can keep discussing my crimes against fatherhood under the covers..."
You sighed and rolled your eyes before you nudged his cheek with yours.
"You're such an idiot."
You murmured as you pulled away from his arms and started walking out to finally head back to your room after this dumpster fire of a night.
"and we will be having a proper conversation about this tomorrow." You added as you turned to point at him with your finger while he followed you like a puppy.
Despite the sternness that you were to portray in your tone, you had obviously given into him. And he just as obviously knew that as you could probably tell from the big stupid grin on his face.
"You're so sexy when you're mad, baby~"
"Shut up."
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After Val brutally ripped Vox’s head off Vox became a little cute tablet, Val took him back to the Vee tower and he threw him somewhere, then he had a talk with Velvette about Vox being carried away today, a few days later Val was on television on the news about saving hell he was pretty proud of it even though he didn’t really do much so he decided to go to the hotel with Velvette since there is nothing else to do because Vox isn’t there anymore so he goes to the hotel with Velvette, he knocks on the door and Charlie opens the door and welcomes them in she was very excited that they were there and took a look around, Val and Velvette learning about redemption and they started being a little good, meanwhile on the other hand Baxter was still studying the hotel, he was with Nifty looking all around the place and they ran into Velvette and they actually recognized each other, Velvette gave them a evilly look at them after the fight so she just walked away on her phone, Val was looking around watching himself on the tv and he saw the news, Katie Killjoy was broadcasting on live television, he was talking about Val being such a good hero he was very proud of himself so he walks away and sees Cherri and Husk and he just scoffed and he walks away and goes asking for a drink at the bar and he slowly drinks after everything he went through with Vox he was very tired so he takes a key and Charlie takes him to his room and he looks in the mirror all stressed out and goes to sit on his bed scrolls on his phone for a while meanwhile Velvette was taking pictures of the hotel with her phone and sending the pics to Val, he looks at the photo and he likes them and fell asleep.
The next day everyone in the hotel woke up and Charlie was teaching everyone how to be redeemed everyone did some activities for redemption like sharing some kind ideas and sharing our feelings and one thing we like about ourselves and complementing others and helping people, Val and Velvette were having fun and they enjoyed the activities that Charlie was hosting, they had a few therapy sessions with Husk and Baxter was showing everybody some cool inventions that he made recently people were very interested in his inventions and later the other overlords came to tag along too they were very interested and they were having fun at the hotel and they learned a few things and Alastor saw the other overlords so he decided to hang out with them, Lucifer sometimes pranks Alastor and he decided to put soap in his coffee and when he sipped on the coffee he started coughing and he saw Alastor laughing and he chased after him like a cat and mouse and Charlie saw them chasing each other so she told them off and Lucifer was put in time out and Alastor was punished to do chores around the hotel.
Val was sitting down on the couch on his phone and Fat nuggets was running around, he saw Val and decided to curl around his legs, he looked down and he picked him up and put him on his lap and petted him he adored him and he hugged Fat Nuggets and he picked him up like a baby and walked around the hotel with him and he took him to his room and put Fat Nuggets on his bed and he was very comfortable on the bed he was jumping up and down on the bed, rolled in the blankets Val just absolutely adorable him he took a few pictures and sent them to Angel Dust and he lays down in his bed and chilled with Fat Nuggets meanwhile Velvette was wondering around the hotel cuz it’s great she was thinking about Vox and she was just very annoyed about Vox so she got a headache and went to her room but she doesn’t know that Val and Velvette’s room were literally across each other’s, Velvette went in her room and just took some paracetamol and she felt better an hour later.
Fat Nuggets was wondering where Angel was at so he ran out of Val’s room and looked for him Val woke up he was gone Val was worried so he went looking for him and Fat Nuggets was near Cherri so he curled around her legs and sits next to her, Velvette came out of the room and saw Val she comes up to him and she asked about his day at the hotel and he said that it was fine they talked and laughed for a few minutes and they were happy together and Charlie was singing her little redemption song again and Val and Velvette were listening to it and they fought it was quite hilarious and kind of bad and this time no one left the hotel.
Why, he was barely drunk, just a little tipsy when Angel had his next great suggestion. A drinking game! Truth or dare spin the bottle. How droll! But an excellent way to get embarrassing information out of someone. And if they refused? Well take a drink, doll and dear Alastor will get you on the next round, don't you worry about that.
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Alastor accidentally reveals he had a lover on Earth while drunk and angry at an equally drunk Lucifer who takes his bullying of the deer demon too far. Charlie forces her father to apologize and he gets the whole story of who this woman was, how she died and learns how little he actually knows about Alastor. From sinister Radio Demon to doting Girl Dad, Alastor as always, is more than he seems.
Tags: Female Reader, but reader is not described beyond being mixed latina, i write for the no sabo girlies, reader is not present in hell, this is a reminiscing fic!, Drinking Games, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Reader has abusive husband, Reader's Death is Described, Reader Dies During Domestic Assault, reader has kids, Alastor is a Girl Dad, Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Lucifer is a dick, but he gets better I promise, Alastor Still Kills People, In Fact He Kills Reader's Husband, this is a bittersweet ending, since reader is dead already, Mild Hurt/Comfort
A/N: I had a dreeeeam, I had a dreeeeeam! And it involved Alastor being drunk and sad lamenting to Lucifer about the love he had and lost due to his own decisions. Fair warning, Reader did not meet a good end and dies at the hand of her husband, fully witnessed by Alastor.
He knew how he got here: copious amount of drinking after a round with the exorcists that left him feeling shaky and weak to Angel's suggestion that they all get shit-faced drunk. He hadn't meant to let it get this far. He only meant to nurse a glass or three, until the shaking in his limbs stopped and he no longer feared catching the glint of angelic steel in his periphery.
Hey, he wasn't fond of getting hit in the chest and nearly dying again, forced to rely on Lucifer to heal the festering wound and getting mercilessly bullied for it.
At least he had gotten a chance to bite said angel once his chest was deemed healed enough.
What had started out as a third glass of rye had quickly turned into five and then round after round of Beezlejuice as said annoying devil egged him on, ridiculing his drink of choice and insinuating Alastor was less of a man for not partaking in "the good stuff".
God he hated that man.
And yet Alastor stepped up to his challenge, ears tipped dangerously to the left as he met Lucifer shot for shot, determined to show this dead-beat dad what years of drinking moonshine will do for one's alcohol tolerance.
Why, he was barely drunk, just a little tipsy when Angel had his next great suggestion. A drinking game! Truth or dare spin the bottle. How droll! But an excellent way to get embarrassing information out of someone. And if they refused? Well take a drink, doll and dear Alastor will get you on the next round, don't you worry about that.
But alas, he must have used all his good luck in the battle because never once did he land on Lucifer. No, he was forced to ask the lessers. Hey Charlie, what do you really think of the carousel your father put in the garden (Ugggghhhh I hate it dadimsosorryyyyy). Husker, tell us who's got your fwuffy wittle tail wagging like a lovesick pup? (Fuck you.) Nifty! Who's the baddest boy of all? (You sir, heeheehee!) Dear Vagatha (Not my name, culo, and fuck whatever you're gonna ask I'm drinking.)
And on the flip side, he happened to be the singular victim of their one and, if you asked him he would deny it, only beautiful porn star with shockingly good aim.
"Oh-ho-ho! Alright mista tall and creepy. Truth or dare?"
Alastor felt his eyes roll. "Truth but do try not to be crass."
"Nah, not when I got you drunk and willing." Angel winked and Alastor suddenly wondered if he should have chosen dare. No…no, a dangerous option when he was at the mercy of a horny spider. "Are you a virgin?"
Typical. "No."
"I fuckin' knew it! Pay up Whiskers, I told ya' there's no way he didn't get his dick wet at least once!" Angel made grabby hands towards said cat demon, face lit up and eager as a substantial amount of money was placed in his palm. Alastor made a mental note to teach Husker a painful lesson about not gossiping about his owner's private business.
"You're kinky right? Inta some wild shit? C'mon Al you're among pals—"
"Your question is done, Angel." Clipped. Final. Please stop. What he liked in bed was for—no. Now was not the time to think of Her.
Unfortunately, Lucifer couldn't help himself. "Please! Bambi is such a prude there's no way he's—"
"Kindly—," Alastor let his static overtake his voice as he snapped his head towards the worse of the two angels, eyes flickering between radio dials and their usual red as he glared, "—fuck off!"
Then Angel got him again. "What's the kinkiest shit you've ever done?"
"Eaten sinners whole, my turn!" Alastor promptly ignored Angel's whines of "That's not a fair answer!!!!" before he took his turn (daring Nifty to sit in Lucifer's lap, if only to watch the devil squirm uncomfortably.)
And then Angel got him again, Hell preserve him. "If you could fuck one person in this room right now, why would it be me?"
He drank on that one. At least Angel looked a little put out that there was still one person in Hell who didn't want to jump his bones.
And again. "Are ya the silent type or the loud type in bed?"
He drank. It had been so long ago that he honestly couldn't really answer that one. Fuzzy memories of teenagers giggling, clumsy hands and nervous shushing as they tumbled around their old treehouse. They had no choice but to be quiet but had he had a chance to have her in their bed….well, who's to say?
"Do ya like girls or boys?"
"Neither." Entirely true! He has only ever been interested in one person. Not one person had spiked his interest in the 20 years he had after Her death nor in the hundred he had spent in Hell. A disappointing answer for Angel who scoffed and said, "Gimme somethin' to work with here Red."
"Do ya have a tail? Like a cute little bambi tail?"
He drank. He did but no one needed to know that one. He could already see the poorly disguised attempts at someone trying to get under his coat to catch a glimpse of it. Too bad said tail was securely tucked under his waistband.
And all the while Lucifer was making snarky comments beside him, little bitchy things that made Alastor want to strangle him with his bare claws. "Fucking your hand doesn't count as kinky." "Aw, can't fuck anyone because you know no one wants to fuck you?" "Oh, loud and whiny for sure, like a little bitch!" "Neither because no one wants you, ha!" "Awwww, don't want to show us your fwuffy wittle tail?"
Maybe it was time to give the dares a chance if lady luck insisted on fucking him sideways tonight.
"I dare ya to give us your best orgasm moan. Without the radio filter."
Drink. That privilege belonged to one person and one alone.
"I dare ya to give us a little show. Just take off ya tie and jacket in the sluttiest way possible."
He gave Angel that one, giving direct eye contact as he slowly pulled the tie undone with a slow lick of his lips as Lucifer whispered, "Holy shit" beside him. Then he reached for his glass and slammed it back, his other hand lashing out to give Angel the middle finger. He had only ever wanted one person to look at his body and it sure as fuck wasn't anyone in this room. Dear god, he would be mortified to defile himself in front of the ladies present.
"I dare ya to tell us the name of the foxy thang that took your virginity."
"Hey Angel," sweet Charlie, dear Charlie, "Maybe we lay off Alastor a bit?" She was drunk as a skunk and laid up in her girlfriend's lap for the last hour, tapped out as she watched her friends and…father (ugh) tease and rile each other up.
"I concur! What I do or not do in the bedroom is my business alone I fear."
Angel pounced, "So no lady friend? Boy friend? They friend? Just ya hand and whatever vintage shit ya can find, eh?"
"Angel!" Husk this time, probably tired of hearing his would-be love interest so focused on getting his jollies off to Alastor's secrets.
"I'd listen to Husker which is not something I say very often—!"
"Oh puh-lease," fucking Lucifer louder than he needs to be as he waves his hand around, sloshing Beezlejuice on Alastor's thigh. "Of course he's alone! What kind of person would willingly fuck the creepy dude, ya know?"
Alastor felt his eye twitch, distant memories of his favorite smile drifting back to him along the lazy waves of alcohol completely flooding his system. He could admit he was drunk now but years of experiencing prohibition left him quite talented at keeping his inebriation on the down low.
"I mean," Lucifer scoffed and turned to face Alastor, askew hat the only thing revealing how drunk he also was, "They'd have to be just as fucked up right? A terrible judge of character. Like, what kind of idiot—"
She was not an idiot. Never an idiot. She was the smartest person Alastor knew.
"—like seriously, was this before or after you started killing because how stupid were they—"
She wasn't stupid.
"—Bet they were just as ugly as you, huh? C'mon there's no way Jack Skellington over here—"
How dare he! She was…she was…she was his and that meant she was beautiful and macabre and looked at him like he put the moon in the sky for her.
"—Y'know I bet they don't even exist! There's no WAY Prude-McGee over here ever actually—"
She does exist. He has done his best to not think about her for 113 years. He has tried to forget her birthday, her death day, how the sun shone in her hair and the way her laugh warmed his heart. He tried and failed to forget the way her fingers felt against his cheeks and way she kissed his knuckles, he failed to forget the years spent running through the bayou and streets of New Orleans. He failed to forget the way his heart fluttered when they cuddled in the swing, the warmth of her against his side as she pointed out each constellation.
He failed to forget the moment he realized he loved her, young and foolish they were, wading through the water bare-footed and catching frogs with their hands. All the near misses with the gators and snakes, all the fights with the group of white kids that liked to terrorize their neighborhood, the found bones and the teaching each other of their own native magicks.
He failed to forget all the moments they could have had, the moments were she should have been at his side. She should have been there to marry him instead. She should have been there for their daughter's weddings. She should have been there to congratulate him when he graduated college, when he got his first job at the radio station, when he was able to buy their girls and his momma their house.
And he…he should have said 'yes'.
"—Please, Alastor's not capable of loving or being loved by anyone else. He's made it abundantly clear that—"
"Shut up." Alastor's voice cracks and everyone but Lucifer hears it, heads snapping towards him with wide yes as they fear what their local murderer will do next.
"—"love is a weakness"." Lucifer spills more of his drink as he brings his fingers up in mocking quotations.
"Shut up," louder this time and Lucifer snorts at him.
"What, Bambi? You gonna tell me that the great Radio Demon stooped so low as to actually love someone?" Lucifer scoffed and rose to his knees to be of equal height to Alastor sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I don't buy it for a minute."
Alastor felt his horns elongate and his bones creak as his anger began to mount. "You shut up right now Lucifer. You don't know anything."
"No? Then tell me Al, were is this person you love, huh? Because anyone crazy enough to love your psychotic ass belongs in Hell—"
No. NO. NO! She was too good for him, always too good for him and she would have never come here. No! She was in heaven, he was sure, up in heaven with her daughters and away from the one man she had loved and trusted and was betrayed by. He never deserved her in life and he certainly didn't deserve her in death.
His fist collided solidly with Lucifer's stupid noseless face, his bones cracking as if he had punched marble but he didn't care. "How dare you," his hissed as he pulled his other hand for another punch, radio squealing as he broke that one too."
"How. Dare. You!" He launched himself at the stupid angel, his eyes wide in surprise as Alastor's claws caught in his vest and he slammed the smaller man into the ground. "She was an angel! She was everything!"
Alastor felt himself lift Lucifer up and slam him back down, over and over until the floor cracked and yet the stupid porcelain doll refused to break. "DON'T YOU EVER SPEAK ABOUT HER AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME LUCIFER? DON'T YOU EVER!"
Another painful punch to the side of Lucifer's shocked face. "EVER!"
And another despite the hands pulling at his jacket. "TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT AGAIN OR I'LL RUN YOU THROUGH WITH ANGELIC STEEL AND DAMN THE CONSEQUENCES YOU MOTHERFU—"
"ALASTOR!" Charlie's voice, cutting through the static of Alastor's anger as she shoves him away from her father. "Stop! Please."
Four pairs of hands release Alastor but they hover, ready to grab him and hold him back again at the first sign of him launching himself at Lucifer. Charlie dotes on her father. Her completely unharmed, albeit a little dusty from the broken floor, father.
He hates it.
He hates all of them in this instant.
He doesn't understand how he got here. Too much battle. Too many near misses. Too much drinking. Too much Lucifer, always pressing his buttons and bringing out the worst in him which is saying something because Alastor absolutely is a sociopathic, cannibalistic, sadistic, serial killer with a penchant for riling up others for his own entertainment.
'Fuck all of them,' he thinks before sinking into shadow.
Memories. So many fucking memories he had tried to bury once he decided there was no way She had ever set foot in Hell.
Memories that were buried when he found Her husband and killed him again. Over and over and over until he was able to source a single angelic dagger and deliver a final death to the man he hated above even his own shitty father.
Memories that refused to fade away and always rose to the surface when he drank in excess. When he lost himself upon the river of misery and let himself be carried away to the last times he had ever been considered innocent.
Even now Her face remained in his mind's eye, always haunting him as he vaguely wondered what Hell would have been like with Her at his side. Would She have admonished his indiscriminate killing when he was angry? Would She have liked the little coffee shop on the corner that served raw bacon on a doughnut if you asked nicely? Would She have saved him from selling his soul?
No.
She would have died by an exorcist blade as any other sinner. The two of them powerless as babes if he hadn't sold his soul for power because he was always the one who needed to protect her, to care for her, he should have cared for her why didn't he? Why did he ever think that she would have been better off without him? Why? Why why why why—
"Uh, hey Al?"
Oh for the love of—
"Get out." He was too tired for this. He just wanted to see Her one last time. And maybe…this time he wouldn't be a coward.
"I'd love to, trust me." Lucifer rounded the corner of the chair Alastor was slumped in, looking all the world like he shoved lemons in his stupid cheeks. "But Char-char insisted I…apologize."
Silence as two old men stared at each other. There was no fight in Alastor as he let his gaze drift back to the green fire with eyes unfocused. "Well, go on," he prompted when Lucifer continued to stare at him. "Kneel if you wish, beg my forgiveness and get out."
"The day I kneel before your—ugh no, wait." Lucifer breathed deep, fingers pressed against the nonexistent bridge of his nose in frustration as he pressed his eyes closed. Alastor counted to ten before those eyes opened back up and Lucifer looked down at him, head tilted curiously as his forked tongue poked out just a little to taste the air.
"I really hit a nerve, didn't I?"
"Observant as ever, my king!" More insults sat on Alastor's tongue but he found he did not have the energy to speak them. Blah blah your daughter your missing wife just leave.
Lucifer tasted the air again, mouth drawing into a thin line as he settled, uninvited mind you, into the chair besides Alastor's. They let the silence drag on, Alastor content to let the intruding angel twitch. If he weren't drunk he would have relished making the other man so uncomfortable, he would have pressed his sharp tongue into the wound where his fallen pride leaked out, tearing it open with each pointed quip about his failed marriage, his inability to rule, the years he left his daughter on her own and how he still failed to get Vaggie's name right despite insisting on staying at the hotel for weeks.
"I'm sorry Alastor."
"For…?" Alastor smirked at the sharp intake of breath, ear twitching as he waited for Lucifer to continue.
"…For speaking ill of your…honestly I don't know what they are. Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Don't tell me you were married."
"That doesn't sound like an apology to me~~", Alastor's voice warbles in a mocking sing-song, a sad trumpet sound punctuating the end of his sentence.
"For fuck's sake you make this so hard—"
"She should have been my wife."
"—I'm trying to…oh."
"Yes. Oh."
Lucifer shifted uncomfortably in his chair, eyes darting this way and that for any clue about how to continue this ill-fated conversation. "She died then? Before the wedding?"
Alastor let his eyes droop farther, hands steepled on his stomach as he considered whether or not he wanted to entertain this conversation. He eventually settled on using this uncomfortable topic to teach the brat king to mind his own business. He was capable of easing his sorrows on his own. This was a lesson.
"We were never engaged."
"But you should have been?" Now it was Lucifer's turn to prompt, his elbows on his knees as he rested his chin upon clasped fingers. "Do you want to talk about it?"
No.
Yes.
Fuck him this was not how this night was supposed to go. He was supposed to get shit-faced drunk, sleep and wake up early enough to blast music through everyone's radios as he summoned them all for a hungover buffet. Not spill his life story to this…this…oh damn it all!
He started at the beginning, as most stories do, when he was a little boy no more than 8 when the new family moved in next door. A white man with close cropped hair and a stance that reminded Alastor of his own father, happily deployed and far away from him. Whatever 'deployed' meant. All little Alastor cared was that the man wasn't around to hit him or his momma and that was just perfect.
And a woman. The most beautiful woman his little eyes had ever seen with her tanned skin, black hair and brown eyes that shown with so much warmth that he felt her kindness even from his second-story hiding place. Her voice was rich, musical as she spoke in what Alastor would soon recognize as Spanish to her husband, gesturing happily to the house and laughing in joy as she ran her fingers over the blooming rose bushes that lined the porch.
Why, little Alastor was in awe. Another family like his! He hoped they had a boy he could play with. He was awfully bored playing on his own since the girls down the street shrieked and ran whenever he tried to show them the frogs he caught. He had just gotten a new BB gun from his father and was desperate to take it out back to shoot cans and it would be so much more fun with a friend!
He remembers running down the stairs, happily calling to his mother as he tried not to stumble down them. Darn his growing feet!
"Momma! Momma! There's a new family! Do you think they have kids? Can we go check? Please please please!"
"Easy darling," Claudette cooed as she smoothed down his hair. "Let them get settled first."
"Awwww, but I wanna play nowwwww!"
His mother's laughter filled their kitchen, warm and soft and by god did he miss it. "Tell you what my little mudskipper, help me bake some étouffée and we'll bring it over for dinner."
"Only if you do the crawfish." He may have only been eight but his hatred for the little creatures was strong. He remembered scrunching his face, sticking his tongue out in disgust as he watched his momma clean the critters. He still despised them, grown up and dead as he was. A shame they tasted so good.
They had gone over later that evening, little Alastor practically skipping the whole way and resisting the urge to knock on the door over and over again until someone answered. He only knocked three times like a good boy and rocked on his heels excitedly as he waited for his momma to catch up.
The door opened and there was the pretty woman he had seen earlier, her long hair pulled up in a high pony tail and the smell of something mouthwatering on the stove wafting from behind her. "Hello ma'am! I'm Alastor! A pleasure to meet you! I'm your neighbor! Do you have any kids?"
"Allie!" His mother's admonishing voice snapped his jaw shut and he scooted away to hide shamefully in her skirts. "Hello dear, I'm Claudette just over next door—"
Alastor didn't remember much of this conversation, barely paying attention enough to learn that the woman was named Sofía and her husband was named Robert and that they did indeed have a little girl around his age he could play with until their supper was ready. That was all he needed to hear, rushing ahead in the direction of a pointed finger and booking it into the backyard he had spent years looking into from his bedroom window.
That was where he had first met her. An odd thing currently coaxing the neighborhood tom cat into taking the food from her hand. He had noticed too late, his boisterous entrance startling the creature and causing it to hiss and growl before darting back over the fence. The girl turned around, face scrunched up in fury and her hands balled at her waist as she glared at him.
"You scared him!"
"I didn't mean to!"
"Well you did! I worked so hard to get him down here and now he won't come back!" She had the same lilting accent her mother had, deepened by her childish anger. "Who are you anyways? What are you doing in my backyard?"
No need to be polite when momma wasn't around, right? "I'm your neighbor. Alastor. And your momma said I could come back here and play with you but only if you be nice!"
The girl looked him up and down, huffing once before she dusted her hands on her skirt and placed them back on her hips. "You're skinny"
"And you're short."
"I like you."
He hadn't known it yet, but the flutter in his chest was the first flutter of love stirring. "I like you too."
"You know, I'm having a real tough time picturing you as a kid." Lucifer's voice interrupted Alastor's storytelling, amusement in his throat as he chuckled. "Like, there's no way you were cute and cuddly. Not when I have 7-foot of murderous cannibal right in front of me."
"Believe it or not sire, it does not change that fact that I was adorable!"
"Uh-huh. So…what was her name?"
"Who?"
An audible eye-roll as Lucifer leaned back comfortably in his chair. "The girl! You gave me everyone else's names but not hers. You remember it, right?"
"Of course I do!" It came out sharper than intended but…
"I haven't…I haven't spoken it out loud since…since she died. It still hurts, even to this day."
"Oh," Lucifer answered lamely, "Continue on I guess?"
"Yes indeed!"
They had grown thick as thieves almost immediately, constantly at one house or another, slipping through the broken fence panel to play pirates or soldiers or princess and her knight. Unfortunately, Alastor was the princess more often than not. Something about his "pretty eyelashes", damn Her. They spent years sitting on each other's porches, helping the other with homework and lamenting how their teacher always had a stick in her butt. They did indeed chase frogs and catch fish and hit each other with exploding cattails until the sun set and it was time to go home to be yelled at for getting mud all over their clothes.
By the end of their first year as neighbors they were inseparable. One could not find Alastor Laveau without finding Her right alongside him. Of course, they were teased about how they were going to be married one day and they reacted appropriately: screaming "EEEEWWWW!" at the tops of their little lungs and retching dramatically as their mothers giggled.
But Alastor felt it, deep down in his heart, that it wouldn't be too bad to marry Her. He would find a good job, get Her a nice house and never ever make Her cry! No sir! He'd be a good husband and treat Her right and never hit Her because She would cook for him and mend his clothes and they could go hunting together instead of just leaving Her home alone all day. And when he caught Her eye in the middle of their faux retching, rolling on the floor and pretending to choke and die because the thought of marrying each other was so awful, he thought She felt the same.
Of course, they had shared darker things as well. Both their mother's practiced magic, closed practices that they shared in hushed tones and only in the comfort of one another. Their husbands content to let their women have their silly beliefs and keep their bones and their herbs and put oils on their children's foreheads so long as they still went to church on Sundays. And that meant that the children also shared, swapping spells and meanings and borrowing from each other as they wove spells of protection around their houses and communed with the spirits that flitted around the bayou.
She took to it better than he. Eyes often wandering as she caught glimpses beyond the veil, fingers weaving sigils and head tilting to better hear the dissonant whispers around them. But he was the better provider, always bringing her the dead animals they found or dispatching what would be necessary for Her to collect the bones, spying rare herbs in the woods and growing the plants needed for the four of them to practice happily. He was content to let Her flourish in the practical, never once envious of Her abilities and only a little proud that he was the better summoner in the end.
His fondest memories would always be the warm summer nights they spend together as She carved and anointed her newest creation. His best friend, for it had been three years of Her near constant company so he felt he could call her that, was a talented jewelry maker. She spend most of her free time creating earrings and necklaces with the animal bones they found, placing spells on them if asked and carefully wrapping each one with shells, feathers, or dyed twine as needed. Her momma had said it was her Calling and happily watched as her daughter sang under her breath, little Alastor beside them cleaning the last of the muck off the newest bones and keeping his mouth shut about how odd he thought it was that Sofía was keeping a blanket on her lap despite the warm weather.
Or that she didn't chase her little hellions around much anymore.
Or that She had to do more of the cooking now because Sofía was too tired sometimes.
Sofía died just shy of their fourth year as Alastor's neighbor. A weakness in her body. Something that poisoned her blood and left the beautiful woman a husk of her former glory. Her boundless black hair turned brittle and dry, her lips and soft cheeks shriveled and wrinkled, her delicate wrists turned bony and Alastor remembered thinking that if he looked at her too hard, he just might break her.
He remembered holding Her as she cried, wracking sobs against his chest as She clung to his thin neck. He never uttered a peep about how Her nails dug into his back, how itchy his shirt was where Her tears had wet it, how Her shallow breaths against his neck caused him agony as he could do nothing but hold her and hum the lullabies his mother used to sing to him as they stood together at the funeral.
"Of course, my mother adored Her so She at least still had that." Alastor resisted the urge to sniff as he recalled the way She had climbed up the trellis and into his bedroom window, soaked from the heavy rain and Her own tears as She struggled to tell him Her mother was dead. He had held Her that night, warm and snug in his own bed and clothes as She sobbed and sobbed and cursed the gods for taking Her momma away.
Twelve years old seemed mighty young for an agony like that.
The rest of that year was not a fun one. For an entire year, Alastor lost his friend as well. Her smile had dimmed and she only half snorted at his jokes. She no longer hummed along with him as they did their homework. She spent more time inside, taking on more womanly duties and losing Herself in the scrubbing of tile when She should have been elbow deep in a deer's guts with him, divining their fortunes for the next month.
She came back to him the next summer, eyes a little less sparkling but there was more mirth in Her smile as She looked up at him.
"You grew?"
Well yes he had! Five whole inches that required a lot of work on his momma's part to adjust his clothes. If only to cinch in the waist.
"Well that's rude," She snorted and reached a finger out to poke him in the belly. "Still skinny though."
And with that, they were back to their old shenanigans: running around for as long as they could without worrying their parents. That summer was the one they had managed to build a tree house in the tree that sat in Her yard, right at the fence line so its boughs shaded both. Her father had always intended to build it for them but after years of waiting…well, teenagers were never the patient sort.
Idle hands are the devil's workshop after all and what else was Alastor supposed to do with the unwanted carpentry skills his father taught him out at their hunting cabin? Ugh. No, those were awful memories but this…this was a favorite. Her mocking laughter as he berated Her for not understanding his instructions again. His threatening to kick her out the tree if She didn't hold the damn wood straight. The way they lay under the stars, huddled in a blanket under the unfinished roof as they talked and talked about what life would be like when they finally finished growing.
They even held a little ribbon cutting ceremony, Robert and Claudette the only others in attendance as they cut through an old sheet. It was rickety. It was small. But it was theirs.
For four years they had done their best to escape their harsh realities. A girl who was forced too young into minding a house that her mother's ghost still haunted. A boy who's father fell further and further into drink and instead of beating his wife, turned to beating his son. She had fixed him up more times than he could count, asking permission to curse his father or just outright poison his food.
Sometimes he took Her up on it.
Just a little pokeweed here and there to give Renée Boudreaux the worst shits of his life. Nothing more than that for Alastor swore that if anything was to kill his father, it would be his own two hands. She simply nodded along and promised to help him bury the body in the swamp and be his alibi: No officer, Alastor was here the entire time, helping poor little ole me with the furnace!
And then they'd laugh and move on until it happened again.
At least until his father drunk himself into a stupor one night and got himself hit by a car.
Now it was his turn to climb into Her window, tears running down his face despite the lightness in his heart. His father was dead! Finally!
But not by his hand. By his own stupidity and another man's bad luck.
It was annoying. Frustrating. He was robbed of an opportunity that was by all rights his!
And still the tears came. But She held him, tucked securely under Her chin as she hummed her own lullabies. He fell asleep that night in the warmth of Her bed, perfectly manicured nails running up and down his back as he clung to her like a child.
She forced him up early the next morning, shoving him out the door and into his mother's arms. "Where you should have been!"
"She was right of course," Alastor sighed and reached into his jacket to pull out a well loved cigarette case. "I should have stayed with momma instead of running off to avoid feelings. He may have been a shit father but he was her first love." He lit a hand-rolled cigarette and inhaled deeply, letting the burn of the smoke settle in his lungs before exhaling. "For what little that was worth."
"Huh. Gotta say, I'm surprised at you Alastor." Lucifer chuckled and tilted his head against his fist, "I really expected you to be the 'Killed-his-father' type."
"Not for lack of desire! Trust me," Alastor growled, "Only the fear of what would happen to me for killing a white man stayed my hand." He tilted his head and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully before adding, "For a while," with a chuckle.
Lucifer hummed thoughtfully and conjured his own cigar: a large bulky thing because of course he did. Alastor bit his tongue to resist the urge to make a 'compensation' joke; low hanging fruit and all HA!
"Sooo….not to be a creep or anything but uh, little sixteen year old Alastor alone in a secluded tree house with a girl…?" Lucifer's eyebrows damn near audibly wiggled as he pulled from his cigar.
Alastor felt his cheeks redden, antlers creaking as they grew to three prongs before he reigned them in with a roll of his eyes. "Why is everyone…Ugh, yes! She and I…"
They had been sixteen, curled up against each other and reading their own books peacefully before Her voice broke their silence. "Timothy tried to kiss me today."
Alastor remembered being confused, "What now? Why?"
She had shrugged, "He asked me to go to the soda shop this weekend. I said yes since he's always been nice to me and then he tried to kiss me."
Oh, he hadn't like that. "I'll stab him! What makes him think that he could—!"
Her laughter interrupted his little outburst, "Hahaha! Al, it's fine! I uh, I actually panicked and slapped him so I don't think we're going to the soda shop anymore."
The sound of her laughter was a soothing balm across the burning in his chest. "Good! You can do better than Timothy."
Her answering hum seemed to say, "Oh? You think so?" but she said nothing, returning to her book for a page or two until her voice broke the silence again. "Have you ever kissed anyone, Al?"
If he were drinking something he would have spat it all over the wall. "Wh-what?! No!" Panic laced his voice as he whirled around to face Her. "Have you?!"
"Nope," she let the 'p' pop and didn't look up from her book, turning her head to try and hide Her reddening cheeks. "I've wondered about it though." Alastor didn't like that thought and he swallowed the ugly feeling in his throat as She continued talking. "Lacey is obsessed with kissing the Drummonds boy and Kelsea keeps talking about how she can't wait to get her First Kiss. I don't get it. Makes one curious, ya know?"
No, he didn't know. He hadn't thought about kissing anyone ever except for his future wife who did not at all resemble the young woman right in front of him. Nope, nuh-uh, please mind your own business before you learn what the business end of a knife feels like.
"No-o?"
"Really?" She pouted and peeked up at him through her lashes, "Never ever?"
Alastor panicked and looked everywhere but Her. "Never!"
"Oh…," She pouted and looked away, mind visibly warring as Alastor's panic continued to grow. "Do you…Can we…? Should we try it?"
And there went Alastor's last bit of sense. "Yes!" Breathy. Desperate. He felt so silly as his skin warmed and itched, his mouth drying out as he struggled to swallow. It was worth it though to see her face light up.
"Really?! Cause I was kind of curious and you're my best friend so I trust you but if you don't want to that's okay because I don't want to make things weird and should I stop talking because I feel like I should stop talking I'm just nervous because I know you don't even like touching people so it's a really big thing I'm asking but there's no one else I—"
He had shut her up with a quick press of his lips against hers, barely a brush that shoved their noses together more than their mouths but it was thrilling all the same and Alastor swore he saw his glasses fogging up as She looked up at him with wide, stunned eyes. It was a very silly expression and the most effective way he had ever gotten to shut her up.
So he kissed her again. Longer this time, enough to feel her shakily exhale against him. And again. And again. Finding the wet plushness of her lips to be more enjoyable than he could have ever imagined. In fact, it was more than enjoyable. It was downright addicting and they soon found themselves wrapped around each other, his hands respectfully on her hips as she settled into his lap, arms around his neck as they kissed until called in for dinner.
It quickly devolved from there, from quick little make-out sessions between chores where Alastor pressed Her against the fence to hours in the bayou where they only stopped when his new growing mustache irritated her skin. Somewhere along the way their hands had wandered, slipping under the hem of a hiked skirt, pressing against a broadening chest, fingers tangling in hair as they took turns pressing the other down into the cushions of the tree house or the soft grass of the forest floor.
It was Alastor who pressed farther, fingers undoing buttons and nosing along newly exposed flesh, teeth teasing tender skin and drawing out breathy moans that quickly became his new favorite sound. He didn't feel like sharing the lurid details with a man he hates but let's just say it didn't take more than a year for the two of them to figure out the horizontal tango. Quick and quiet and only once in the comfort of a bed that was rudely interrupted by Her father coming home a whole two hours early, resulting in Alastor having to sneak out of her bedroom window in just his underwear as She did her best to pretend there was not a half-naked teenager visible from the kitchen window.
"I didn't even need to do that! It's not like Her father was going to go into her room. I had plenty of time to get dressed and sneak out properly. Probably would have avoided the nasty bruise on my ass too."
"And miss out on a quintessential human teenager rite of passage!?," Lucifer laughed and wiped away a small tear.
"The worst part was the lecture I got from momma the next day. Turns out she saw me."
"No!"
"Yes!," Alastor slapped his knee with a chuckle. "Nothing like suffering through the birds and the bees first thing in the morning. I do believe it was the first time I ever wanted to die, ha ha."
Oh yes, it was embarrassing. Mortifying.
Didn't stop them though. Their parents turning a blind eye to the tree house even as Claudette not so subtly delivered a certain bundle of herbs that would ensure the two teens would continue their child-free lifestyle.
"Wait, it sounds to me like you two were definitely an item." Lucifer's voice was questioning, "Did she die before you could propose? Or did you just hit it and quit it?"
Irritation spiked through Alastor, "Rude. Have some patience and I'll get there. The next part is…shameful."
Of course the two of them were an item by now, confirmation whispered against swollen lips about two weeks after their first kiss. It was an expected thing, something seen as inevitable by literally everyone around them. How embarrassing to have been so transparent from nine years old.
But then they turned eighteen and Alastor turned his eyes towards the future. His future. He was going to be a radio host after he finished college. A northern college where a man like him had a better chance of success. It was going to take everything he had, every single dollar he had saved with his summer jobs, every bit of his father's pension and every bit of his stubborn pride.
He had been called over to Her house to speak to her father. Just her father. He was alone in the kitchen, Robert offering him a glass of fine scotch as the grandfather clock in the hallway tick-tick-tocked every silent second.
"Alastor," Robert's voice was tired as he fiddled with his own glass, "I like ya boy. Like the son I never had."
Alastor's heart had fluttered. He was pleased. Scared.
Robert finished his drink in one go, awkward as he ran his hand through his short cropped hair. "I'm dyin' son. Gonna meet my dear Sofia and the Lord, maybe not this year but maybe the year after. Something about my liver." He punctuated this by filling his glass again, "Not surprising, eh?"
No. Military men tended to be drawn towards the drink and the cirrhosis that followed. Alastor just nodded along and sipped at his own, eyes squinting from the burn as he struggled to figure out where this conversation was going.
"I need to know that my little girl is gonna be taken care of. She needs a man to take care of her. You understand me?"
"Y-you want me to marry her, sir?" Alastor had planned on it. Later. Way later. When he could actually provide for her. Not now, not when he was ready to move and be poorer than dirt with no clear future.
"I'd like it son, I really would but I know you got plans to move up north and I don't want to get in the way of that. You got a real good future ahead of you." Robert fiddled with thumbs, eyes downcast as he sighed, "And if you can't, don't worry about it. I got a guy lined up. A real good guy. A long time friend only ten years older than her. He just got promoted too s-so I know he'll be able to provide, he can give my girl everything she needs right now. He's a good fella, ready to settle down."
Alastor had felt his world spinning, shrinking down to the taste of good scotch. "Of course sir. She deserves the world."
"Glad we agree."
"I can't…I can't promise that right now." Alastor's throat burned. "C-can't it wait? Until after I graduate?"
"Four years is a long time to wait and I won't last that long. Is there a reason you won't marry her now?"
He had plenty of reason. He was going to be too poor, flying by the seat of his pants as he exhausted everything he had to move across the country with no job lined up. Much less a place to live. He was going to be forced to leave her alone, working as much as he could while going to school full time. She would be neglected. Lonely. Forced to live off his meager wages in some poor neighborhood, wondering if she would have enough food to last the week.
All that with no guarantee he would land the job of his dreams. He didn't want that for her. He wanted to show up as her knight in shining armor, knocking on her door as a radio host on prime time, keys to their new house in hand and the car ready and loaded for a quick courthouse wedding and honeymoon in the mountains. That would take him years. Years he no longer had, it seemed.
He told Robert as such mechanically, eyes distant as he realized what was going to happen when he was gone. Fuck.
"It's alright son. Maybe you'll still get your shot, we military men don't tend to live long."
Yeah.
"She thinks she's going with you, you know."
Alastor had startled out of his stupor at that. "W-what? But we haven't even discussed…I just got accepted how can she—"
"You know her, probably just assumed you'd ask."
Alastor's heart sank. They had discussed it, in a way, Alastor fumbling through his plans for college as she encouraged him. Daydreaming with him about what life was like up in the Union states. He thought they were just shooting the shit. He hadn't even proposed! Why it would have been completely improper for the two of them to live together unmarried!
"I-I hadn't planned on it."
"I know son, I'm really throwing a wrench in your plans." Robert slapped Alastor on the back apologetically, "You really won't marry her?"
"I can't…I have nothing to offer her except a life of hardship."
Robert nodded sagely, "It's alright son. It's the right decision. It's okay. She'll be taken care of."
"Of course," Alastor finished his cigarette with a heavy sigh, "She was angry. At me. At Robert. Despite women her age being married off all the time. It was her father's right to do so, to guarantee she would be well off. He couldn't put all his bets on the scrawny kid next door with only enough money to his name to take the train up north and a week's worth at a boarding house.
"Robert's only certainty was that he was going to die soon and that his daughter would be hounded with us both gone, leeches desperate to wife her for her house, her money. She'd be alone and undefended and that simply would not do. She didn't care though. She was so angry at the two of us. So much so she actually stopped talking to me after that. Four months of radio silence, the stubborn girl.
"The last time we talked was at the train station." Alastor remembered it like it was yesterday, the tug of her hand around his wrist. She had spoken so softly, a suitcase in her other hand as she whispered, "Tell me you still love me, Al."
"Of course I do." He swore his heart was physically breaking.
"Then ask me to go with you. Please Alastor, don't leave me here. I won't love him like I do you. I don't care if I have to sell myself on the damn streets please just ask me too—"
"I will not," he had to steel himself. This was the correct thing to do. "Did you come here to berate me or are you going to say goodbye after throwing a fit for months?"
He had hurt Her, beyond repair as She let him go, eyes brimming with tears as she backed away. He told himself she would be fine, she would get over it, she would come to love her new betrothed and live a happy life where she would never need to wonder where her next meal came from.
"Damn, that sucks man."
"Eloquent as always, Lucifer."
Robert had died just as he predicted, one and half years later on Sofia's birthday. Alastor remembered grieving, silent tears spilt on his mother's letter. 'At least he was able to walk his daughter down the aisle. I'm sorry you couldn't come dear, it was a beautiful ceremony and she was the most beautiful bride.'
He would get updates like that. Monthly letters from his mother that told him the going ons of the neighborhood and what the new hot gossip was. He learned She had moved to the good part of town in a beautiful home with a large private yard, he learned that She was expecting barely a month after the wedding and that Claudette had been asked to be Her child's godmother. He had learned that Claudette didn't like Her husband, something about the way he looked at Her that reminded her of Alastor's late father, god rest his soul.
He had learned that She was growing quiet, demure. She had stopped practicing her magic, unable to keep bones out in the sun to dry in their fancy new neighborhood. He had learned that her first child was a daughter, little Alexandra who was the spitting image of her mother. He had learned that She was quickly with child again and was an excellent mother, always putting the needs of Her daughter even above her own. She was growing thin even as her belly blossomed and Alastor forced himself to stop wishing it was him at Her side.
Claudette began mentioning Her less and less as she herself was invited to the house less. She was always on his mother's mind though and she lamented that she felt she was losing both children and that it was about time Alastor came home to visit. Her second daughter was born, Irene who was once again the spitting image of her mother. Claudette was to be her godmother too and was invited to the birth to be Her support despite The Husband's insistence that it was not necessary.
Guess he learned too little to late that Claudette was a force to be reckoned with when she needed to be and dammit, her little girl had asked for her and by the gods above and below she was going to be at her side.
And just like that, four years passed. Four hard years in which Alastor worked himself to the bone, neglecting himself in the ways of love and sleep but always hungry for music, dance and food. Life had had it's ups and downs and now finally he had gotten the job he always wanted. He was headed back home to a small radio gig on the off hours with a chance to work prime time when the other host called out. It wasn't as grand as he wanted, but it was enough.
He had done it!
And in a few more years the prime time spot would be his! Life was perfect.
Almost.
The sorrow he felt upon returning home and seeing Her old house, a new family in it that he did not recognize, hit him like a sack of bricks. He had known she was gone for five years now, he had known she was married and with kids and he had said that awful thing to her at the train station and yet…he didn't really accept it until now. Some part of him was still expecting Her to be there, leaning against the porch railing with the sun in her hair and a soft smile upon her lips as she welcomed him home.
It made him sick.
She had four years to write him. Four years in which she knew where he was because Claudette had told him that she had passed along every new address he had. Five years in which he had held on to Her's, writing letters he would not send, like a coward.
It was fine. Claudette had visited recently to spent time with Alexandra and Irene, adamantly refusing to mention anything about Her beyond that she was worried for her health. That She was looking thinner than ever and that Claudette wondered if maybe they could hire some help with the babies.
Alastor never wanted to know more than that. The fact that she was alive would be all he needed.
Another year would pass and once again, his life would turn upside down because he saw her. He saw her! And his stomach fell through the floor. Claudette hadn't seen Her in that year, always given an excuse as to how She didn't feel good or that the house was a mess or the girls were sick. But Alastor now knew why his mother had been denied her godbabies.
She was thin. Painfully thin with a healing bruise around her eye covered in heavy makeup. Her hair was lifeless and She walked with a limp that had nothing to do with the toddler on her hip or the one walking unsteadily beside her. Alastor didn't recognize Her at first, only hearing Her voice and turning his head this way and that to find Her, heart in his throat as he struggled with what he was going to do when he saw Her.
He had only known it was Her by the scar upon her forehead. A thin line that ran from above her mid-right brow and ended in Her hairline from a tumble out of a tree when they were fourteen. Alastor remembered that day clearly, they had been racing and it was one of the rare times that he had won, leaning around the tree to mock Her before the branch She was stepping on snapped and down She went.
He had stared at that bright red slash across Her forehead with guilt, turning into a blubbering mess when he tried to explain to Her father what had happened. He could never forget that scar.
So he stared. And stared. At the woman he had once loved, at her two daughters that should have been his. Her eyes, while saddened now, still held the same sparkle in them that was always directed at him though now She only had eyes for the little ones clinging to her. She didn't ever see him, so focused on Her shopping and making sure the older one, Alexandra, didn't wander away.
Naturally, he followed them home. He blended in now, his clothes new, freshly pressed and neatly tailored so that he barely stuck out in their fancy neighborhood. He still kept his distance, using his height to his advantage as he let the masses get between them.
He followed them to a beautiful two story house, white with blue accents and a wrought iron fence. He passed it by, doing his best not to seem like a lookie-loo as he entered the little wooded area right next to the property. It had good trees. Perfect for perching. Which he absolutely would not do.
Not today anyways.
No, he would come back later in the week. In the night and dressed more casually.
He had just been checking in. Just making sure she was okay.
He just wanted to know if her deteriorated state was from the stress of raising two children so close in age or…
He watched. Silent as an owl as he shimmied up a good tree that had a branch that faced Her dining room and bedroom windows.
He watched as She limped after giggling toddlers and sang and dance with them despite the obvious pain She was in.
He watched as She flinched at the loud noises curious toddlers made when they dropped things down the stairs.
He watched as Her eyes went blank when her husband came home, pushing her dinner around aimlessly and never taking a bite, nodding appropriately when needed.
He watched as She undressed, not because he was a voyeur but because he caught an eyeful of the bruises that littered her body. The large one on her thigh that was causing her limp, the bruise around her eye free from makeup, the small ones that littered her ribs and concave stomach and the faded, barely there ring of them around her throat.
He watched as Her husband stormed into the bedroom after the girls were put to sleep, his wallet held in a fist as he shook it at her, never yelling but speaking so harshly that She flinched, arms across her body as if to stay the blows that had not yet come. The wallet was smacked across Her face, Her shoulders, Her back when She turned away.
He watched as She tried to reason with him, eyes wide and begging as she fell to her knees, pleading.
He watched as She dodged the first backhand, scrambling on all fours and making a mad scramble towards the door.
He watched as Her ankle was grabbed, Her husband finally making a small yell of rage that was still contained so as not to wake the children.
He watched as She kicked out, catching him in the ribs and knocking him against the bed and rising fast enough to reach the door.
He watched as she was slammed against it, a fist connecting with the back of her head and slamming her nose first into solid wood. The crimson smear of her blood on the white door was so startling, so haunting that Alastor almost couldn't understand what he was looking at until he heard the blows.
One after another given in blind rage, at the audacity of Her resisting her god-given husband, until her blood began to coat the floor.
He felt his limbs stirring as hands wrapped around Her throat, fingers pathetically clawing at an iron grip.
He moved recklessly, using the tree to launch himself over the wrought iron fence. The grunt of pain Alastor let out was nothing compared to what was happening above. The sounds of her choking so loud to him in the silent winter night that he wondered why the neighbors were not all out scrambling to see what the ruckus was.
He found the back door to be unlocked. He didn't even try to be subtle as he stalked in, body on autopilot as he walked through the kitchen he had been watching all evening. He passed the fireplace and grabbed the fire poker, never altering his stride as he ran up the stairs two at a time.
He did not hesitate when he pushed open the bedroom door, catching Her husband in the face as he turned at the commotion. He pulled back and brought the poker down with both hands now, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over until it broke in the red and white mush that had once been Her husband's face.
Lucifer was distraught, hands over his mouth as he leaned into them with his elbows on his knees. His eyebrows were pulled up, eyes full of concern and pain as he listened to Alastor describe his first kills. And yes, kills. Plural. For he was just as responsible for the husband's death as he was Her's.
"No…no Al…you weren't responsible. It wasn't your fault—"
"WASN'T IT?," Alastor didn't care that he yelled. This was a painful memory dammit and he deserved to be listened to. "If I had only moved earlier, from the first swat instead of waiting for there to be blood she would have lived! But I was a coward! I panicked! And I let her die!"
He had checked Her the moment he came to, cradling Her broken face with a sob, fingers on the pulse that would no longer move. He tried CPR, hands pressing her chest up and down and whimpering 'Nonononono' under his breath when her head lolled lifelessly to the side, the sickening crick in it telling him that her neck was broken.
He tried to set it. Futile he knew, but he couldn't just leave her like that. Some mad part of him hoped that by snapping Her neck back into place She could somehow still be revived. As if somehow instead of a disturbing grind of bone he would hear a snap! and Her eyes would flutter and look up at him instead of over his shoulder.
He had stayed there for hours, tears refusing to fall even as he whimpered between great heaving breaths as he struggled to understand what he had done. Eventually he rose and went to the bathroom to wash the blood of his hands. His face. There was nothing to be done about his clothes but he would borrow the nice full length coat the husband had worn home and dispose of them all when he got the chance.
And then he called the police. His voice was not is own, hollow and dead as he told the operator the address and that there were two dead people in the master bedroom. It wouldn't do to let the little one's walk in on that scene.
And then he walked out the front door.
He didn't remember making it home. He just remembered waking up in the shower, the fuzzy memories of what happened the previous hour already fading. He tossed the soiled clothes in a bag and shoved them under his bed. Into the hidey hole they had made from the loose floorboards.
She had always promised to be his alibi. Here's Her chance, he supposed.
He climbed into bed. Exhausted mentally and physically, mind foggy and reeling, limbs filled with static as he lay there in the dark, listening to the ringing in his ears as he watched the sun slowly rise.
His mother burst into the room when the sun was fully risen, eyes red and tears spilling as she cried. In between the sobs he heard her, "She's…dead! She's…oh my god…Alastor….She's…dead!"
For whatever reason, it was his mother's acknowledgment that the terrible night was real that finally had his tears flowing, his throat tearing as he sobbed with the guilt of what he had done. They held each other, wailing and cursing whatever entities had let Her go so violently.
"We need-", Claudette sniffed and shook her head, "I-I need to go get the girls. I'm their godmo-other and they n-need me."
Alastor nodded along, "Of course…I'll get the car. Just…tell me how to get there…"
The house was just as he had left it, peaceful and serene despite the mass of cops trampling the lawn. Claudette had sobbed when she caught sight of the two little girls, weaving between outstretched white hands demanding to know who she was and what she was doing at a crime scene.
Alastor smoothed it all over, his radio persona slipping on as he schmoozed and calmed the officers, doing his best to explain that yes this black woman had every right to see these white children. Here are their papers from the church up the street, confirmation that Claudette was their godmother in the eyes of the Lord. As if two little girls screaming, "Abuelita!!!" wasn't proof enough.
They were precious things with their big doe eyes and matching set of hair, their soft curls disheveled from sleep and their cherubic cheeks irritated from crying. Alexandra asked for their mama over and over again, her little two-year old lexicon limited to "Mamá? Mamá? Where mamá??"
"She's…Mamá is in heaven dearest. It's okay, shush now. Let's bring you home with me, cher. It's finally time we had that sleepover. Here, Alastor, take her will you?"
"What—? Momma I don't—okay." He stood there, arms outstretched as he held the two year old under her armpits, briefly panicking as he realized he had never once held a kid. But Alexandra looked at him with big eyes, searching his face before she smiled and made grabby hands at him, squealing as she said, "Tío! Tío!"
Alastor let her grab him, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck as she clung to him like a leech while supported comfortably in the crook of his arm. "Uncle?", he had asked stupidly.
"Do you think I never showed my best girls a picture of their uncle? Nonsense boy. I got a whole album I used to bring by filled with all the pictures I took of you two growing up. She always…," Claudette's eyes watered again as she remembered days of fond reminiscing over the past. "Well, lets just get these darlings home and go on from there."
"Holy shit, you had kids?!"
Would Alastor's hackles ever get a rest this night? "Is that so surprising!?"
"YES! Dude you suck so much ass and are a literal soul dealer what part of you screams 'father figure'? You sure you didn't just give those poor things daddy issues?"
Alastor scoffed and rolled his eyes, "I'll have you know that I was a very good dad."
"No shit?"
"None whatsoever. Why, what's the phrasing….I was a certified Girl Dad!"
Lucifer pondered a moment, looking the deer demon up and down before nodding his head. "Yeah, I can see it actually. There's something about you the makes women flock to you despite the creepiness."
Alastor smiled and preened under the praise.
He had in fact, fallen head over heels for those two little girls from the moment he brought them home and saw them waddling down the very same hall he and their mother had chased each other, screaming and laughing as they avoided hitting one another with sticks. Why, he barely let his mother lift a finger when he was home, taking over parenting duties from the moment he stepped over the threshold.
He adored watching Irene as she drank from her bottles. He loved watching Alexandra smear spaghetti sauce over her face and barely flinched when those messy hands grabbed his shirt. He cried just a little when Irene started calling him Papá and actually sobbed when Alexandra first told him, "Good night daddy, love you!"
"I knew they weren't mine, obviously but in some way I felt as if they were the children We were meant to have. It didn't matter who their sperm donor was because I still saw myself in their little faces and wicked grins. They were mine."
They even carried his last name, a gift given to him for his 36th birthday. Two small courthouse documents, dated the day Irene had turned sixteen that proudly declared his daughters to be Laveaus. He hadn't been able to adopt them, not legally but this was close enough. They had loved him so much that they had gotten their names changed, proud to carry the last name that should have always been theirs.
He had raised them right and proper.
Alex, for she preferred the shortened version now, was like a son. Her hair kept short and always running around in Alastor's old coveralls, grease and oil covering her nose and fingers as she fiddled in the garage with her engines. She was crazy for them, breaking old ones down and repairing them for the love of it instead of the steady income it became. She took over the manly duties of the house when Alastor moved to prime time fully, his days now shorter as he focused on writing his plays and recording his advertisements and sorting through fanmail. He always caught her with a hammer in a pocket, nails in her mouth or a cigarette behind her ear, cursing like a sailor when she caught a splinter.
But she was still his little girl, rolling her eyes and scoffing when he bandaged her up but always smiling when he placed a kiss on the wound. He watched her grow close with the girl down the street, a pretty young thing that looked at his Alex like she put the moon in the sky, always eager to show off her newest dress and blushing prettily when Alex stumbled her words and awkwardly told her, "You're so pretty—Uh, I mean the dress! The dress is so pretty!!"
"I approve you know," he had said one night while they shared an evening cigarette on the porch.
"Approve of what, dad?"
"Missy. She's a sweet girl. She makes you happy."
Alex choked on the smoke, doubling over as Alastor smoothly took the cigarette from her fingers to place it in his own mouth. He let her suffer, enjoying the sublime feeling of a father teasing the shit out of their kid. "D-dad!," she gasped, "I-I don't know what you—"
"Uh huh. Please. She looks at you like….like the way I used to look at your mother." They hardly ever spoke of the girls' mother around Alastor. He had made it very clear it was a touchy subject and all they needed to know was that despite it all, he had loved her and done her incredibly wrong. And now it was his duty to show her girls all the love he should have given Her, so mentioning Her in this way was some serious shit.
"Is that so?" Alex's voice trembled a bit as she glanced at the house down the street where the faintest shadow of her love interest could be seen moving in her bedroom, curtains drawn tight. "It's not right though…"
"Fuck what's right," Alastor sighed and passed off the cigarette. "Doing what was right got your mother…," fuck he hadn't wanted to mention Her murder. All his girls knew was that someone broke into the house and killed both their parents. They would never know it was Her husband that had killed their mother. He pulled in a shaky sigh as he continued, "If I had done "the wrong" thing, I would have married your mother and brought her up north with me but I didn't so here we are."
Alex remained quiet a moment before putting the cigarette out on the railing, much to Alastor's chagrin. "Yeah, but then you wouldn't have us."
"Hah, or maybe I would but your coloring would be a bit darker. Not that it matters, what's done is done."
"Hmmm," Alex hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose not. I got you as my daddy either way." They bumped shoulders, pressing against each other and enjoying the closeness in the fall wind. "Thank you daddy. For your blessing."
Alastor would never be able to see the two girls married, society was too backwards for that, but he was able to see them get a small apartment together. Why, he even was able to gift them a hefty sum towards a new house with a garage for Alex to work in before he died. He never got to see it but he remembered the women, for they were in their early 20s now, chat happily about the little townhome they had found that would be perfect for Alex's repair business.
And then there was Irene.
Oh, she was the bell of the ball, the apple of his eye, the crown jewel. She was graceful, she was sweet, she was the kindest creature he had ever met and to this day he was still amazed that he had raised the newest Saint. She was the complete opposite of her sister, fair and feminine and oh so pleasing to listen to as she sang her hymns and let her graceful fingers dance across the piano as if she was blessed by the angels themselves.
She had everyone falling head over heels for her. Men desperately calling the house to ask for her hand in marriage, women asking where she got her hair done, where she got her clothes and if she would be so kind as to teach them to sew so well.
But beneath all her demureness there was a fierceness to her, a ruthlessness in which she pursued her good morals. She was constantly searching for the poor and needy, feeding them from the picnic basket at her hip filled to the brim with food she cooked herself. She wrestled doctors into helping her, begging and pleading and somehow getting them to follow her into seedy back alleys to medicate and heal what hurts she had found. She called for donations and used the money to buy what clothes she could not mend herself, handing them out and refusing any form of payment beyond the promise to give unto others what goodwill she had shown them.
Irene was 22 when she opened her first shelter, welcoming women and children with open arms. She would provide food, shelter and medical care for all and help them get on their feet. She would bring in women to teach them to sew, to craft, or to cook; anything which could help them get jobs to feed their bellies. She worked with local churches for donations of cash and labor and local doctors to volunteer their weekends to help whoever needed it.
Alastor didn't live to see her open the second one. A smaller one for men where they could learn good and honest skills while they worked themselves out of the streets. She was determined to clean New Orleans, to make sure that there would never be another soul left out on the streets to die.
He was able to walk her down the aisle though. She had met a good man, a kind man as she worked the streets. Raphael was a man even Alastor was begrudged to like, though maybe not the smartest tool in the shed. Raphael had seen Irene walking boldly into seedy alleys with nothing to protect her but the little pistol hidden in her clothes and he couldn't stand by that. He had offered to protect her, following along at a distance so as not to interrupt her work but always close enough that he could intervene when she came across the very few who would think to take advantage of the pretty young thing that wandered too close.
Raphael was Irene's staunchest supporter, uplifting her and praising her and eagerly rallying people to her cause. He swayed those who were on the fence about supporting an enterprising young woman and he pressed stubborn old fools in ways only a good natured man could. It was no surprise when Raphael politely stood at the base of Alastor's porch, ready to get on his knees as he begged for permission to marry his daughter.
"I'll treat her right, Mr. Laveau. Let her pursue her dreams and just be there to catch her when she stumbles. She's a good woman doing the Lord's work and I want nothing more than to bask in her light."
Alastor had sighed, tilting his head back just enough to see Irene peeking between the curtains. He hadn't been ready to see his last girl leave the house but at 21 he had supposed it was time. He had not given his blessing more than one second before Irene came busting out the door in her night gown and threw herself into Raphael's arms.
True to his word, he caught her.
Irene had been the most beautiful bride. A doppelganger for her late mother, according to Claudette, and Alastor had to stop himself from crying as he walked her down the aisle. It was a large affair of course. Alastor and Claudette had spared no expense and Irene was so beloved herself that half the damn city donated to the church they held it at with all the extra money going towards the shelter they would open within the month.
"I don't believe it," Lucifer interrupted. "You actually raised two decent people."
"Is it really that hard to believe?"
Lucifer guffawed. "You are a literal serial killer! You eat people!!!"
"To be fair, the eating started after I landed in Hell."
"Okay but you were still killing people. When did you even have time to do that in between a full-time job and raising two kids?"
"Oh, I was living off of coffee and cocaine."
"I….yeah okay."
Alastor snorted and continued, "I won't go into the gory details but I still very much killed people when I got the chance." And oh did he get plenty of chances. He still spent time wandering the streets of New Orleans, visiting dance clubs and sneaking into speakeasies once Prohibition began. He was still young and full of life and needed a little break here and there from the kids.
His next kill had come three years later. A quick and bloodless thing. Just the snapping of the neck of a man who had first gotten on Alastor's radar when he used a few choice slurs towards the darker man but solidified his opportunity when he had slapped the face of the young woman he was trying to bed. Alastor only remembered telling the girl to run away and catching the drunk idiot's fist before slamming him into the wall and using the opportunity to grab his head.
"I kept my ears to the ground after that. Listening for stories about men hurting women, rumors about who forced who. I don't actually remember what a single one looked like. They all had His face." The face of the man who had taken Her. He would not let another tragedy like that happen again.
"Soooo, you killed people for what, 20 years?"
"17, actually. I died in 33' when I was 43."
Lucifer whistled and slumped back into his chair. "That's actually…really impressive. How many?"
Alastor shrugged, "Dozens I'm sure. Lots of vile men out there."
"And no one knew?"
"Oh, I'm sure my momma had an inkling but it's very easy to turn a blind eye when I raised such wonderful kids. How could I possibly spend my nights gutting trash and sacrificing souls when I was also teaching Irene to play piano or giving Alex piggy back rides around the yard? I was the paragon of a Perfect Father."
"Huh," there was a mild undercurrent of jealousy in Lucifers tone that Alastor very much enjoyed. That's right Luce, the cannibal serial killer was a better dad than you, eat shit!
"And then you died." Ugh, rude.
"Indeed! Shot between the eyes while burying a body." Feelings of shame bubbled up in Alastor's chest as he sighed and turned in his chair, letting his head dangle grossly over the back of the armrest to look at Lucifer as he kicked his feet like a schoolboy over the other armrest. "I've always wondered what happened after that. They must have found out that I was the one leaving the bodies out there. That I was the very Butcher I reported on. I only hoped that the virtues of my daughters was enough to save them from my sins."
Lucifer considered the demon before him, teeth pulling at his lip as Alastor let his eyes drift close, the stress of the night and the alcohol finally beginning to tire him out. He had just begun to drift away when Lucifer's voice broke through his thoughts.
"I can check for you."
Alastor opened one eye and gave him a quizzical look, "Check what?"
"If they ever made it to Hell."
Fully awake now, Alastor flipped again in his chair to rest on his belly. "You can do that?"
"Well of course? I am the devil and technically I own every soul here," he waved off-handedly towards the window where a sleepy pride city was softly glowing. "I can take a quick search. See if Irene or Alex ever made it. If not, then we know they did well and made it to heaven."
It was too good to be true! Of course Alastor had always kept an ear to the ground, listening for the names of the four women dearest to his heart. Hoping against everything that he would never hear them again. "What do you want in return?"
Lucifer shook his head, "Nothing. Consider this my true and heartfelt apology for the way I spoke to you tonight."
Fuck. Alastor licked his lips, resisting every urge of his demonic nature to haggle a deal out of the fucking Devil himself. "Okay. Alexandra Dominique Laveau and Irene Rose Laveau." He also rattled off their birth dates after a little prompting from Lucifer.
It took longer than Alastor would have liked but he supposed it would take a moment to sift through literally every single human who had ever passed through the Devil's domain. But eventually Lucifer opened his eyes, the flame between his horns dying down as he smiled and shook his head, "I can't find them. The only ones I found weren't the right race. They were only a quarter, right? Yeah, they were never here."
Alastor breathed a sigh of relief, letting his head drop against the armrest as he felt the first sting of unshed tears. "And Claudette Angèle Laveau, nèe Fontaine? Born…", Alastor knew deep down his mother wasn't here either. Or he hoped. She had birthed and raised a serial killer after all.
Lucifer closed his eyes again, fingers twitching as if searching through invisible files as the flames between his horns flared again. He soon opened his eyes and smiled, "No. She's not one of mine."
Oh thank fuck. Seems the sins of the children did not affect the parent.
But now…the last name stuck in his throat. The name of the woman who Alastor had grown up with. The name of the woman he had loved. The woman who should have been his wife. Who should have brought forth his daughters with his own seed. Who he should have seen at the end of that aisle dressed in white, her smile the last thing he saw every night the the first thing he saw when he woke up. The woman who's death began his descent into violence and sadism and cursed him to rot away in Hell.
He spoke it. For the first time in 113 years he finally spoke Her name. Her birthdate. Her death date.
Lucifer nodded gravely, hand over his heart as he took the trusted information and buried it away where it would never leave again. Alastor waited with baited breath, body tense and burning as his muscles screamed at him to relax, to please please please just settle into the chair instead of letting his limbs elongate and crack as his nervous energy did whatever it could to escape.
His antlers made it to five prongs before Lucifer's eyes opened again, a single tear falling down his cheek as he whispered his findings.
"She was never here."
Alastor was upon Lucifer immediately, clutching the smaller man around the neck as he forced back the sobs of relief. It was one thing to show his relief and appreciation for what Lucifer had done for him, it was another to cry in front of the man.
Lucifer patted his back awkwardly, mumbling "there there" like Alastor was some child to be coddled.
The audacity.
So Alastor shoved him back into the chair, smiling smugly as the littler man squawked at the sudden movement. "Fabulous. Now if you don't mind sir, it has been one hell of a night and I would like to catch some sleep. Off you go."
"Wait, hold on—whoa, c'mon dude don't just—hey! Hey hey hey!" Lucifer struggled to get his feet under him as Alastor grabbed him by the lapels, hauling the other man up and twirling him around to shove at his back, hooved feet slipping and sliding until he pressed unceremoniously against the bedroom door.
"Unholy hell," he finally pushed back and glare up at the sinister grin above his head. "You got some nerve manhandling—"
"Thank you, Lucifer."
Alastor's soft apology stopped Lucifer in his tracks, his ire at being pushed around deflating as he let himself be shoved out the now open door.
"If you ever mention anything that happened in this room, I'll find a way to kill you myself," Alastor finished before slamming the door in Lucifer's face.
Okay, maybe it was too early to be making friendship bracelets.
A sense of calm washed over Alastor, pure peace for the first time in decades as he sighed and chuckled happily, leaning against the door for just a moment as he relished the feeling. They had all made it to heaven despite the odds.
That was good. Wonderful, even. It was where they deserved to be, up there with the pearly gates and far away from him.
With another sigh, Alastor looked away from heaven, drawing the curtains and magicking himself into his pajamas. He didn't bother to get under the covers. He just let himself fall face first into the soft pillows, sagging into the comfy mattress as he let sleep take him.
He awoke at the crack of dawn just as he planned, still tired and more than a little hungover but determined to be a menace. He found solace in cooking, humming joyfully to himself as he cooked sausage and bacon, tap dancing around as he spread powdered sugar on the beignets and pancakes, and singing loudly as he finished scrambling the last of the eggs.
With the final 'ding!' of the coffee pot his cooking was finished. A veritable hangover feast complete with potatoes, toast and an ungodly amount of spreads.
He grinned wickedly as the sounds of trumpets blasted through every radio in the hotel, the screams of fear and anger music to his ears. He laughed as his voice followed the trumpets, calling everyone down to eat and threatening to leave all the dishes for whoever made it down last.
And when he met Lucifer's eyes over his steaming mug of coffee, he didn't feel the usual spike of disdain for the ineffectual ruler of Hell. In fact, he offered the king his own steaming mug of pale coffee, filled to the brim with milk and sugar just the way the he liked it without a single threat, insult, nor even a disproving shake of the head. Just a drink offered in tenuous friendship.
When you had mentioned going shopping with Angel Dust, Alastor was ready to say no. He barely tolerated your friendship with the effeminate man at all only because it would hurt you to lose such a dear friend. However, due to one of Cheri's bombs going awol and blowing up most of your wardrobe, you were in kind of dire need.
Alastor had offered to 'poof' you up a whole new closet, but you had rejected the idea. Your style was too modern, and were afraid of giving the 1930s man that much power over what you wore. Besides, your relationship was still new, and the idea of him getting you any major gifts still made you uneasy. Relationships are made of compromises, so you allowed him to get you ONE new outfit. With the added condition of your shopping trip with Angel.
Now Alastor unfortunately finds himself thanking the spider after seeing some of your new clothes himself. . .
AN: might expand on this. For now I'm going to bed. ..
AN: Lol I enjoyed writing this wonderful prompt for @madmiriam! I wasn't sure exactly what direction I wanted to take with this but fluff felt the most appropriate (lol all it takes is one comment though for me to write a pt 2 with smut bc I lowkey can see the vision now). I hope y'all enjoy! The prompt kept getting away from me so I tried to reel it in as much as I could so please bear with me lol
Warnings/tags: Pregnancy, reader's death/graphic details (backstory), cursing, guilt, sickeningly sweet fluff, slice of life, no beta we die like Adam
Note: S1 and S2 refer to the heart sounds heard in a normal cardiac cycle (think lub, dub).
Part 2 (18+)
You had never given much thought to how your second "life" would turn out. Avoiding exorcists on extermination day? Sure, that was to be expected. Working the same job you had worked when you were alive? Eh, that made sense, the hospital you worked at when you were alive was basically hell on earth most days.
Falling pregnant with a fallen angel's baby? Absolutely not.
You had freaked out a bit at first when you found out. You had been a doctor for fuck's sake. You should have been smarter. Except for the whole "being dead thing", which you assumed meant reproduction was off the table. Which it was, in most cases. Except for—
"Angelic Sperm," Adam said when you told him you were pregnant.
"What?" Of all the things you had expected him to say, this was not it. You had expected him to grow angry or childish, as you had known him prone to doing.
"Angelic Sperm." He repeated again, giving you a curious look.
"Adam you can repeat that all you want but that doesn't mean I know what you're talking about."
"Angelic Sperm. I think that's the only way for a sinner to get pregnant in hell. I mean, think about it, Princess of Hell is technically half-angel, half-sinner. And you've got sinners fucking all the time without getting knocked up. Come on, Y/N, weren't you a doctor?"
Adam scratched his head in contemplation, taking in this new information. You looked over at him in anger.
"I tell you I'm pregnant and all you can talk about is sperm?"
Adam looks over at you, a calm look on his face. He takes you into his arms, more gently than he ever had, and pulled you close to him. He kissed the top of your heard, his lips lingering far longer than they normally would.
"I'm so fucking excited, Y/N."
And so now you found yourself 5 months pregnant in Hell. You had begun to wear baggy clothes to not show your swollen stomach. You couldn't imagine what some sinners or overlords would do if they found out there was actually a way to get pregnant in an otherwise barren wasteland.
Adam had been very attentive to you in your pregnant state. You still had to work at the local hospital, trying to get in as many shifts as possible before the birth. When you'd gotten of work, Adam would always have some kind of food craving awaiting you, and together you would rot on the couch until it was time for bed and the day to start all over again.
There was one such time of rotting that you had found yourself lying on the couch beside Adam, on of his hands dropped across your waist and a hand lightly holding your baby. Baby, which Adam had begun to affectionately call "Little Hellion", was kicking happily in against your bladder.
You grimaced at the sensation, your body tensing against Adam. Sensing your discomfort, he kissed your forehead and pulled you tight. "Living up to your name, Hellion."
"They get it from their dad," You replied, your breath becoming more even as Hellion decided to turn their kicking attention elsewhere. Adam rubbed circles around your stomach, which seemed to appease Hellion.
"What are we going to do about after? I can't even imagine trying to raise a child in Hell, constantly on edge even more than usual." You finally asked, a question burning in the pit of your stomach for months. Hell was no place for a child. Would the baby even age? Sinners stopped aging from the moment they died. The Princess of Hell aged, though slower than a human would, but you didn't know what that meant for your baby. And other sinners would notice if they aged. Questions would be asked...questions that would be dangerous to answer.
Adam sighed and ran a hand through his soft, brown hair. "I've been thinking about that too. I think we need to go to the hotel."
You turned to look at him, your brow furrowed. "The Hazbin Hotel? Where you got fucking murdered?"
Adam laughed without humor. "Fucking insane right? And it's such a lame-ass place. But, I have to think about my family. You and Hellion are my family now, Y/N."
Warmth spread throughout your chest, Adam's confession taking you by surprise. He was rarely so vulnerable with you, mostly choosing to hide behind his mask of bravado and masculinity. You smiled at him. Hellion seemed to approve of his words as well because you received a sharp kick in your side.
"I think we should try and see if Hell Princess' redemption plans are even worth a shit. And even if they aren't, she, or Hell forbid fucking Lucifer, might have a better shot at getting in contact with Heaven than I do."
"Heaven? You want us to try and get into Heaven?" You shivered at the thought. You felt...dirty. Unclean. Unworthy of redemption. You had been sent to Hell for a reason and felt you would always serve your sentence.
"We have to try everything, Y/N. I...I have to try everything." Adam looked desperate, his golden eyes shimmering in a way you had never seen.
Adam kissed your forehead and continued rubbing circles around your stomach. He began to softly sing a Rolling Stones song you couldn't remember the name of.
And that was how you found yourself at the front door of the Hazbin Hotel, face-to-face with Lucifer of all people.
"Ooh, not sure if there are any rooms left in the inn. Might have you stay in the stables. I'm sure we have a manger or two for your convenience."
"I'm sorry, are you seriously making a Jesus joke right now?" You deadpanned as you stared at the King of Hell with an unamused expression. You had a hand on your stomach and you could feel Adam tense beside you.
"Get the fuck out of our way, Morningstar, your kid told us she would meet us here."
"Daddd!" Charlie yelled, running closer to the group at the front door. "I told you to let me answer the door!"
Lucifer at least had the grace to look sheepish. He moved behind Charlie, who happily welcomed you and Adam inside.
She grinned at you as she led you both to your room. "Congratulations by the way! So sorry about my dad, he always likes to try and push Adam's buttons."
"Fucking pussy," Adam muttered. You shot him a glare. "Stay away from him as much as you can."
"And ugh, Congratulations by the way! Adam told me all about it when he came to meet with me about you both joining the hotel! This is so exciting! And we have so many crafts and exercises and —"
"Hey, one fucking step at at time, Princess." Adam interrupted, sensing you tense at Charlie's words.
Charlie nodded and looked at you apologetically. "Sorry, I just get a little over-excited! We are so happy to have you here."
You smiled up at her softly. "We really appreciate you for letting us come to the hotel."
*
That night, you both lay in bed in your new home as you began your paths of redemption. Your head was on Adam's chest and you listened to the constant beat of his heart. Listening to the beat of the heart or pulse had always had a calming effect on you, even when alive. S1, S2, S1, S2, S1, S2
"Adam what if you get redeemed, and I—I don't. And I ruin everything. I don't deserve to be in Heaven."
"Why would fucking think that, Y/N. You deserve it more than anyone I know." He asked, his voice full of surprise.
"Because I killed someone!" You exclaimed, tears rolling down your eyes. "I was stupid and I killed someone and now I am meant to rot in Hell for all eternity. And I've damned our kid to this."
Adam wiped one of the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek. "And you don't think I have? Do you know how many sinners I've killed? Happily?"
"Adam, it's different."
"Try me."
You swallowed hard. "I was coming off of a 24-hour shift at the hospital. I was so tired. So fucking tired. And I knew better than to drive home. But my apartment was just 20 minutes away. And I thought it would be okay. I could have slept for an hour or two in the on-call room but I was so ready to get home."
Tears began streaming down your face at full force. Adam pulled you closer, surprisingly silent. "And then I fell asleep behind the wheel. I was only a mile from my house. I crashed into another car that had a mom and her kid in it. They died on impact. I was still alive, just barely, and bled out in my car before EMS could arrive."
"Y/N, you made a mistake. Fuck, I've made even more than that, definitely worse too."
"I just don't think I'm worthy of heaven."
Adam kissed your forehead and continued to hold you close. "Most of those fuckers who make it to Heaven aren't worth even half of you. You deserve Heaven. Shit, you owe it to yourself and Hellion to try."
"I'm just so scared Adam."
"I know. But we will take this one step at a time. Trust me, babe." He put a hand on your stomach. That had been one of his favorite things to do since the early days of your pregnancy. And Hellion seemed to know when their father was near, as you would get what you assumed were happy kicks in the direction of Adam's hand.
You nodded, cuddling in closer to him. One of his wings furled around you, creating a blanket for you and Hellion. You felt safe; warm. More so than you could remember feeling in a long time.
Everything would work itself out. And you and Adam would be redeemed just in time for Hellion to be born inside the pearly gates.
You found yourself focusing on Adam's heart once more.
Romantic Velvette x gn Reader story where Velvette and Reader were partners before they died and after a long time they were able to meet again in hell. I imagine it happened because Reader wanted to enter the fashion world and tried becoming a model for Velvette, and they didn't recognize themself at first but after a while they did and decided to get back together.
• 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚃𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗 •
Velvette x gn!Reader
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Tags: Gender-neutral reader, No smut, Fluff (Kinda), angst(kinda), mentions of drinking, smoking, and drugs, cursing, Velvette being kind of a bitch, slightly mean Velvette, her poor models, Velvette being a bad employer, but we love her, Velvette being kind of invasive and touchy with reader, I'm so so sorry
A/N: PLEASE I SAW THIS AND WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE IT. I tried to keep her as in character as I can. I’m trying a different writing style but I hope it’s okay! I also couldent tell if you wanted them to not reconize themself or velvette and I’m so sorry if I messed up. I also know nothing about modeling so expect this to not be accurate, but I Hope you enjoy!
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Hell. A place known to hold the sinners of the world above. Home to all the nasty fucked-ups, the murderers, and the evil of the human world in the afterlife.
You don’t know how you ended up here. You thought yourself of a good person in life. Of course you had the occasional slip-up and weren’t the best person at times, you weren’t perfect. But what human is?
Nevertheless, after a traffic mishap, you ended up in the world with red sky and trashed streets.
You woke up in an alleyway, on the ground. You slowly blink your eyes open, trying to adjust. You sit up with a groan, looking around, confused.
You spot a lizard looking man, leaning against the south wall of you, smoking a cigarette. He has eyes red, greenish grey scales going up from his neck to his scalp. He breathes out a puff of smoke. Eyes darting around the alleyway before landing on you, and he smirks at your staring.
“Something wrong?” He chuckles, taking in another hit.
You hesitate, glancing at him up and down. “Uhm… ex..excuse me, where am I…?” You as, nervously, earning you a laugh from the man.
“Oh, I’m guessing you just got here hm?” He breathes out the smoke, batting it away and flicking his purple tongue out. “Yeah, you smell fresh. Definitely new.”
You look at him confused, not understanding what he means, an obvious clueless look on you face.
The man leans off the wall, walking over to you and crouching over you. “Your in hell kid, You died” he says.
“Your… kidding..” You say, causing him to let out a cackle. “Nope. Welcome to the underworld.” He says, before chuckling, and walking off.
You sit there for a second, dumbfounded. After a moment you stand up, wobbly, but immediately feel dizzy, so you brace yourself against the wall.
Once your vision clears, you notice your hands, no longer there. Now replaced with dark claws.
You gasp, backing up, looking at them, turning them over and looking over them. You thought you would change wherever you went, but you were scared of what you look like now. You look around the alley, spotting a mirror.
You hesitantly walk over to it, standing in shock as you look at yourself in the mirror.
Running a now clawed hand softly over your changed face and body. Did you seriously die? You ask yourself, looking over at your new form.
Tears fill your eyes and you sniffle, trying to hold them back, blinking and wiping them away.
You let out a shaky exhale, taking one last glance at your appearance, before you begin to walk out of the alley.
Once exited, you blink your eyes, trying to adjust to the odd lighting, and begin to look around, walking and exploring for about an hour.
Demons and sinners litter the streets, walking, talking with each other, one person even getting beat up. Vending machines line the streets, and you walk over to one. Curious to see what it has, only to be presented with things that you have never heard of before.
You turn away from the odd vendor, walking the streets for about an hour. Billboard signs are everywhere, advertising p*rn, drugs, and…. a badly spelled assassin company sign?
You sigh, beginning to walk again, when a hot pink van screeches to a stop beside you. It’s doors littered with graffiti, ranging from emojis to slurs.
The door slams open, revealing a van full of demons, led lights shinning down on them. Music blasting from speakers inside, beer cans and cigarettes littering the floor.
One of the demons from inside, a guy with pale grey skin, blaring red hair, and dark sunglasses grins at you “Heyyyyy, you seem a bit lost. Guessing your new here.” He says, taking a swig from a canister, two girls snuggled against him. Can people really tell that you just got here that easily?
“Why don’t you hop in hot stuff. We are heading to the Vees tower. Come on we will give you a ride!” He says, grinning, the girls next to him giggling.
You hesitate, wary of getting into a van full of strangers, in hell especially. “Awe don’t be shy cutie, we don’t bite, come on!” The girl to the left of the guy coos, pushing a stray strand of her purple hair out of her face. Her black eyes gleaming wickedly.
You decide to say fuck it, and hop in the car. I mean it’s not like you can die twice, right? Once you're in, the door slams shut again and you sit across from the three. You look them up and down, them doing the same to you.
“So, how recent are you?” The girl to the right ask, her blue eyes studying you up and down, murky green hair in a braid. You look at her quizzically, earning you a sigh. “How long ago did you die?”
You look at her, blushing a tad for not understanding what she meant. “Oh, uhm… well I just woke up about an hour ago.” You say, the guy letting out a laugh.
“Holy shit your really new. How’d ya die?” He asks, offering you his canister, to which you politely decline.
“Well the last thing I remember is some asshole swerving in front of me on the highway too fast for me to stop myself.” You say, the guy letting out a chuckle. “Shit man that’s rough, going out in a car crash must be fucking mental.” He says. "I mean me personally, i'd prefer to go out in a more badass way." He grins.
You hesitate before speaking up, not wanting to be awkward “So, uhm… where are we going again…?” You ask.
“The Vees tower, they are some of the Overlords, like the more powerful demons of hell.” The purple haired one says, pausing to continue “There is a porn empire runner, kind of a bitch if you ask me, the guy who makes pretty much every electronic device here, and the modeling agency.”
You look at them, still trying to absorb the information being presented to you. “Oh… so why are we going there..?” You ask cautiously.
“Well we are going there because a guy is meeting us to pay off some debt he owes.” The girl with the green hair says, glaring at you, the purple headed one elbowing her with a warning look.
“You know, since you just got here, and your probably gonna need a job, you should try out to be a model! I mean you got the looks.” The guy say, smirking, taking you aback.
“Are… you sure? I don’t know, I don’t... know….” You say nervously, glancing at the three. “Nonsense, your fucking hot as hell, you can definitely get the job!” The purple haired girl chirps, giving you a wide smile.
“I mean…. I, could try..” you murmer, still unsure. But on the bright side growing more comfortable with the three demons.
As you glance out the window, the van comes to a stop infront of a large building. The car door opens and you follow our after the other three.
You turn to them, rubbing the back of your neck. “Hey, uh thanks for the ride…” you say, with a smile, the purple haired girl and the guy smiling back, the other glaring. The two girls link arms. “Yeah of course, anytime. See ya around!” The guy says with a wink, before the three start heading over to an alleyway with a shady looking guy in it.
You roll your shoulders, before turning to the looming building infront of you. Sleek glass covering it all, it’s new look contrasting to the ruins of the surrounding buildings and streets surrounding you.
You go over to one of the glass panels, taking another look at yourself, a frown on your face, still not used to it. You brush yourself off, running fingers through your hair, and straightening out your clothes.
You take one last glance at yourself before you take a deep breath and enter the building. Entering, you look around finding yourself surrounded by fancy plush furniture. A scent lingering that you cant quite name.
You walk over to the front desk, the imp behind it on her phone. You wait a second, hoping she will notice you. When she seems to not notice your presence, you clear your throat. She glances up at you, a bored look on her face. "Ya need something?" She asks, looking you up and down judgmentaly.
Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you shuffle from foot to foot. "Oh uhm, hi.. I would like to apply to be a model..." You say. "Doesn't everyone?" She says, snickering. You just stand there awkwardly for a moment, before the imp groans and scavenges for something in a drawer behind the desk.
A moment later she comes back up with a packet, shoving it in your hands. "Just give me your name and go sit down and fill out the packet and I'll call you when she is ready." She says. You thank her, giving her your name, giving you an eye roll she goes back to her phone.
You turn around, going to look for a place to sit, ending up at a comfy white plush chair by the window. Sitting, you begin to fill out the packet, full of average questions, Name, Age, Gender, Cause of Death, Medical History, etc-
After about 20 minutes of waiting the lady at the front desk calls your name. You go up to her, trying to hand her your packet but she pushes it away. "No no no, I don't go over that. She does. Go up to the 7th floor, shes waiting for you already." You pull your arm back. "Wait who is-"
"THE BOSS. GO." She yells, causing you to stumble back a bit, gripping your pamphlet tightly. You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You head over to the elevator, luckily empty. You press the 6th floor button and tap your feet nervously.
After what feels like an eternity, the elevator button dings, alerting you that you're on the 6th floor, and the doors open. Immediately you are hit by a stronger version of what you smelt downstairs, and yelling. Lots of yelling.
Your presented a pink room, clothes and hangers littering the floors. Podiums with models of all different shapes colors and sizes. In the middle is lady, who you assume is the boss, screaming at one of the models.
"THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! ?!" She screams at them, anger written all over her face, at seeing her, you feel a sense of knowing hit you for a moment, but immediately dissipates as you brush it off.
"I-i... i'm sorry, my legs are just wobbly, i-its hard to walk in heels..p-please d- ont be mad...." The model pleads, tears streaming down her face, ruining her makeup.
"MAD?! DO I SEEM MAD?! YOU FELL AND EMBARRED ME DURING A SHOW, AND NOW YOUR RUINING YOUR MAKEUP!?" She continues yelling, the model sobbing hysterically now, on the floor in a heap.
"FIRED. YOUR FIRED GET THE FUCK OUT." She says. Two security guards dragging the poor, sobbing girl out.
Your frozen on the spot, shocked at what you just witnessed, regretting your decision to come here.
The lady groans, rubbing her temples and squeezing her eyes shut. Before you could double back, she sighs and turns in your direction, the two of you locking eyes.
"Who the FUCK are....you.." She says, pausing halfway through an unrecognizable look appearing on her face, as her features soften a bit.
"Im... here for an interview, to be a model..." You say, the expression she had a second ago gone as you blinked, as she looks you up and down. "Ah okay your my two o-clock." You nod, going and handing her your packet.
As soon as she grasped it she threw it over her shoulder and pointed to one of the empty podiums next to her. "Go, stand up there." She demands.
"W-wait aren't you going to read my pa-" You begin but she interrupts you. "Ill read it if you get the job, this is the most important part, now shut up and stand up." She says. Not wanting to piss her off you climb onto the podium and she follows up after you.
As you stand there you, somehow, get changed into a black tight tank top and some some tight shorts. "Wait wait wait how-" You try to speak but she raises a hand with a glare. "It's part of the process, not be quiet or you wont even get a chance."
You stand there quietly, feeling rather exposed as "The Boss" circles around you like a predator, observing you, poking and prodding like you're some sort of doll. Studying you.
After about 10 minutes of her observing you, she seems satisfied and steps off the podium.
"Nice figure, no disturbing features. Now lets see how well you can actually do if you were a model." She says with a sadistic grin. Before you can even say anything, your changed into a seemingly random outfit.
A bright pink blazer with black feathers and a white boa, white ripped jeans with black combat boots. She lets out a disappointed click of her tongue. "Next." She says, changing you into another outfit.
This goes on for about another hour, change clothes, she looks, either hates it or its good but not good enough, repeat. You take the time to study her as she does this, finding something about her vaguely familiar but not being able to quite put your finger on it.
As you look at her more she suddenly stands up and points at you. "That. That's the outfit, that's the perfect one." She says, as you look down at the outfit your wearing, the thing most catching your eyes being a pair of shoes you definitely cannot walk in.
"Go on walk around in a circle let me see it, strut for me." She says, going closer to the podium, a grin on her face.
Not wanting to lose this opportunity and anger her further, seeing how she took it out on the last model, you take the risk and begin walking clumsily around the podium.
She looks you up and down as you stumble around like a drunk, trying not to fall on your face. She doesn't seem very happy with how your walking but seems satisfied enough.
After a couple minutes, when you feel like your knees are about to buckle she stops you. "Okay I think we are done with this portion, step off and we will get to the next step."
You breath a sigh of relief, as you go over to the edge where she is. You attempt to step off, but then your legs finally decide to give out and you tumble forward into her.
The two of you fall backwards, you landing on her as her back is on the floor. You instantly knew you fucked up.
Shes looking at you, extremely mad, but then she takes a minute and it falls. You two stare at each other for a moment, when you begin to start realizing who she is, but cant place it yet.
"Whats your name..." She asks, and you stare at her, confused. When you don't respond she pushes you off quickly and harshly and speed walks over to your packet that she had thrown earlier.
You scramble up as she harshly grabs it, flipping through it furiouly.
In that moment it comes to you, where you remember her from, and at the exact same moment, she lands on the first page, with your name on it. She looks up at you slowly and you two make eye contact.
"....Velvette...?" You ask, shakily.
She just stares at you for a moment before running over and grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you towards her. pulling a yelp from you.
She just stares into your eyes for a second, while you pant. After a moment, her expression softens, and she quietly says; "Is... it really you...?" she asks. You voice caught in your throat, tears filling your eyes, you nod.
She grabs you and pulls you into a kiss, and without hesitation you return it. The two of you stumble onto a couch. Your back lands on it, her above you.
You two just stare at each others eyes, before she looks up for a moment, wiping the tears pooling in her eyes. She leans back down, resting her forehead against yours, and she closes her eyes, you two embracing tightly, not letting each other go.
"Fuck I've missed you."
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A/N: Okay, so I tried a different style of writing and I hope I did well, I tried my best on this, and I'm so so sorry if its not the best or what was asked. Also, I'm thinking about making the two girls and the guy in the van reoccurring side characters in stories like this (just for a bit more plot and blah blah) and I need names for them, so if anybody could leave suggestions in the comments that would be a great help! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :)
