So, I'm the person who doesn't mind crossovers, and I think Alberto from Luca and Alastor from Hazbin Hotel would get along great. Or at least Alberto would find Alastor awesome, and Alastor deals with him because Alberto is entertaining
But after how Alastor treated Charlie after Lucifer arrived... I can't help but think of Alastor and Massimo would interact
Alastor would openly try to shoehorn himself more into Alberto's life like he did with Charlie, trying to make Massimo jealous. It would get under Massimo's skin, but Massimo would quietly glare at him. And Machiavelli would more actively glare and growl at Alastor, maybe even attack him from time to time
Machiavelli: mrrrrrr (about to pounce)
Alastor: you know, cat meat is dry and gamey, but I'm starting to desire a taste for it đ
Machiavelli: (glares and walks away)
It's not that effective cause, while Alberto can usually hang with Alastor, Alberto still sees Massimo as his real dad, and listens to him more
Alastor: let's go to this espresso place you keep talking about
Alberto: yeah! Let's go! đ
Massimo: Alberto, get the nets in the boat, we're going fishing
Alberto: yes, papĂ (runs off to the boat)
Alastor: (glares at Massimo)
Massimo: (glares back and walks off after Alberto)
Machiavelli: (hops on Massimo's shoulder and glares at Alastor) mrrrrrrrrr
Ok, small thought here but a moment I will always appreciate from Luca that I would put in a 'moments in Pixar movies that absolutely had me bawling' is when Alberto runs away and Massimo is just. Concerned. A good man who was ready to adopt this rowdy kid. He had the food ready but he puts on his coat and hat on anyways immediately to go find this child. I forget the exact lines but Luca telling him Alberto probably doesn't want to be found / wont be around and Massimo saying "I'll still look anyways."
Fuck.
I'd love to have seen a scene with the two and their bonding. But anyway here's a headcanon:
On their first fishing trip with both boys, Massimo hears a bit more about the kids. They lie for a few things of course, but the gist Massimo gets is that these are two boys clearly in need of help, but while one had a family atleast before, the other is very... Skittish around the subject.
Clearly he hasn't had a good experience with family.
And Massimo takes that personally. Thats how he comes to show Alberto more consideration than we see him give Luca. He can see that Luca is more well-rounded, and he gets along great with his daughter and is so eager to learn things. But he knows Alberto struggles, and he wants to help. He's a good man. Good dad đ
Massimo Marcovaldo from Luca is a congenital amputee
[ID: Two Images side by side of a flag with the pastel colours green, blue and purple. On the left flag is an image of Massimo. He is a burly man whose eyebrows obscure his eyes and his moustache obscures his mouth. He is wearing a white shirt with a napkin tucked at the neck and there is a fish hook in his right sleeve, which is the arm he does not have since birth. His pet cat is perching on his left shoulder. On the right flag is the international symbol of access. End ID]
Luca's past is a bit different to Adrian's past, but the basis remains the same. 90% the same! Just different elements get changed/enhanced (like different accent, and a slight nervous stutter, and specifically drinking as a child since Luca copes with problems by being a party boy - while Adrian copes with sex & being strung around by guys like Rheese) but since my longfic is not going to show this memory from Adrian as his POV isn't often featured, I thought it would be interesting to post for folks who wanna know more about Adrian's past - in particular the time his mother left to see her dying sister, only to return home to find Adrian had been locked in his room all weekend after vicious attacks.
This was written as a shared dream experience.
Adrian/Luca's Past - Trigger warnings for child neglect, child endangerment, child abuse, underage (very!) alcohol consumption, and overall terribly dark shit. [OC background Spoiler for chapter 38 of The Outdoor Cat & Indoor Dog]
Ch 38, Adrian quote:  âWhen my mom came back - I was in my room with bruises.. Too many to excuse as a kid being a kid, like he had up until then. When he acted that way, she was my shield, but that weekendâŚâ Adrian shakes his head. âHe let me have it. But not just his fists. He locked me in my room to shut me up, all weekend. I screamed. Pissed in a corner. Waited, thirsty as hell - all I actually remember about it now is waiting behind a closed door, since I was five.â Dourly, he adds, âItâs my first memory.âÂ
How Luca Remembers It:
Someone especially short is moving down a dimly lit hallway and the dreamersâ viewpoint is from their low vantage point. Their little narrator sneaks around a corner, where a chair is facing a television that shows horses flying like wind across a track. Based on the head poking out of it and the short hairstyle, it is a grown man. âBack to your room!â The response is immediate, flat and given without the adult turning around, like this has happened enough to be automatic.
âUh - uh, Dad?â
âHey!â Instead of simply sounding short, now the impatience has rocketed up sharply. âI got money on this - shut up, Kid! Get back in your room!â
âBut I -â The voice shifts as the speaker moves side to side on nervous feet. In the dream, the ache in his belly stings. â- Iâm - Iâm hungây, pâease.â He says it soft and low, like the boy is in a library and is afraid of being too loud. I didnât eated all day, please? Pretty pâease?
âI said Iâm watchinâ this!â
An amber, thin necked beer bottle flies through the air and shatters on the wall behind the child. He stumbles backwards and starts to run down the hall, pausing at the sight of a bloody hand. Some of the glass must have hit him and his eyes cloud with tears.
âWhat is so hard to understand?â The man finally rises from his chair and begins to lumber down the hall. âHow many times to I gotta say shut up, to shut you up?â
I listened! I axed nice! Fear spikes in the child, who tries to flee only to trip over his own feet.
The next thing their narrator knows, he is being hauled by much stronger arms down the hall and shoved into his little bedroom with matchbox cars and dinosaur figures on the floor. He is half thrown into the room and left on the floor. When the child leaps up and runs for the door, the knob will not turn. âI locked it, you little shit! You stay in there until your bitch mother gets back!â
â------
It is dark out.
The light is dim in the room, illuminated from a racecar nightlight. Hours must have passed since it had been daytime before. Now though, the child throws himself at the door.
Iâm sâpposed tâ be quiet! But I- I- His stomach violently grumbles. It has been over a day since he has anything at all since his fatherâs chair is too near the kitchen door.
âPâease!â He suddenly calls out desperately, voice trembling on the verge of tears. Little hands slam the door. âIâm hungây!â There is a sudden thundering of feet down the hall and his fear rockets.
Suddenly hunger seems like a manageable task as he dives under his bed. From the other side of the door a voice roars, âShut up!â
The feet stop stomping towards him and the close by sound of shattering frightens the child. Then silence takes over save for the ticking of an analogue clock in the room.
Donât hit me. Donât hit me again. Mama woulda saved me.
She canât save me.
Not superheroes flying in.
Nobody.
It just means superheroes arenât real, âless⌠Iâm not good ânuff to save?
Minutes pass before he crawls out, vision swimming in tears. He walks over and tugs, but the door is still locked or budged from the other side. He sniffles, only to notice wet toes.
The boy steps back, spotting some of whatever was in the broken bottle. It had leaked through the bottom of the door.
Iâm thirsty. So.. so thirsty⌠Mama when you cominâ back?
He kneels down and the dreamer can see a hesitant tongue leaving his mouth before lapping at the puddle. It is acrid and harsh. Although he winces, he keeps lapping at it.
It makes him feel funny, stretching out on his back and staring at the ceiling. Hunger pangs still rock his belly, which feels like it has gone dizzy. His whole self feels strange and staying stretched on the floor is the smart move, he is sure of it.
This is betterer.
â-----
It is light out again and the child is back at the door like a dog begging to go out. The dreamer can feel the intense agony in his belly that a couple of days of hunger will cause a little body. The room has a disgusting whiff to it since he has had to go to the bathroom in the corner.
The door is still locked as a tiny hand tugs it weakly, surely knowing it is still locked but the desperation is coming off him in waves, much like his aching thoughts.
Iâm hungây.. Iâm thirsty⌠Iâm cold⌠whereâs Mama? Whereâs Mama? She knows I listen. Iâm a good boy! Lemme out! He slams his tiny hands against the door, wood grain under his nails from scratching that he starts up again.
Quiet! I canât yell for Mama!
The tiny hands rake down against the door before coming to rest pitifully. Iâll be good just - pâease! Iâll be quiet anâ good!
His tiny chest heaves with emotion and an intense loneliness hits like a gust of wind. Mama⌠come back. Nobody else likes me.
His fingers press into the door, glancing over at a mirror where a bruised and battled five year old with a bloody cheek stares back at himself with dark eyes glistening from lonely tears as it finally hits him. A teeny, tiny brown haired, muscle-less Luca (Adrian).
