Chapter 1: ‘Ultimate Untouchable Bad Boy Who’s More Like A Dad Than A Daddy’
Summary:
“You can cease your disgusting blubbering. I need none of your apologies. They are fruitless and dry, despite the wet leaking from your eyes. If you had been so curious, why didn’t you just ask? Why am I just now hearing of such things!? Why am I without mon ombre!? You spout and scream about forgiveness and honesty and respecting boundaries but go against everything you preach! You are no better than the man my dear Niffty slew during the battle with heaven! Have you learned nothing of the incident involving Valentino at his studio when you went to demand he allow his contractee more time to frolic around fruitlessly or did the lesson on boundaries go right over your head like everything else!?”
…“It’s not a problem, darling. I caused you to rip it, it’s only fair I mend it. We can forgo the trip to the tailor’s. Now, we have books to read and information to find. If you would be so kind as to lead the way, Adine dear?”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Go to hell you bastard spawn of satan”
BANG!
A scream filled the room, Alastor bolting upright and trembling in unadulterated terror, eyes darting around his bedroom in search of the men, the dogs, the forest, and, after a few moments to recognize that it was just a nightmare, Lonbraj. It never showed, silence ringing so very loudly in his folded back ears. Realizing the shadow wasn’t going to manifest and wrap him in its warmth was always the worst part about waking up from that night terror and it hadn’t even been a week yet.
He choked on a sob, bringing the comforter up in balled fists to scream and blubber into as the hollowness tempted to overcome him. The extermination wouldn’t be for another few months but he couldn’t stand to feel this way for that long. Maybe he could make a deal with Carmilla for an Angelic dagger…? Or maybe something a little more modern, a little less painful, quicker in execution. NO! No… He needed to calm himself. He needed to find a way to bring his ombre back. He needed… he… he felt so hopeless! He didn’t even know where to start! The last thing he wanted to do was to speak with Charlotte again but he didn’t know what spell they had used or even if it was really in the book he had taken.
He allowed himself to wallow for another hour or so before he begrudgingly climbed out of bed and headed for the on suite to freshen up. The bags under his eyes and the puffiness of the lids needed tending to. No one needed to know that he had spent a majority of the time Lonbraj had been gone (four days, to be exact) crying like some teenage girl after finding out her long time crush already had a steady, long time girlfriend.
After dotting and patting concealer and some setting powder into his skin, he set to work running a comb through his hair, still thick and prone to tangling if not tended to regularly, just as it had been when he was alive, sans curls. A little eyeshadow here and some lip balm there to cover his chapped and teeth worried lips. He liked to take care of himself. Most days. He’d never been good at forming habits but he had become a master at creating the illusion that he was. Now, it felt like it was more out of necessity than anything else since Lonbraj’s disappearance. The shadow would want him to take care of himself in its absence, right?
Finally standing back to take in his work, he couldn’t help but notice how strained and forced his smile looked. His ears had yet to come out of their defensive state, slightly back and stiff as a board aside from a swivel every now and then at particularly less than subtle noises. Even with the little bit of make up he was able to adorn to cover the evidence of his state of mind, he still looked exhausted and on edge, ready to snap at any moment. He was, if he had to it admit it to himself. Lonbraj would make him if it were there.
Alastor gave a defeated sigh and slumped against the bathroom wall, ears pressed down against his skull as he slid to the floor, face in his hands. He needed to get started on things. He needed to find answers. He needed to bring his Lonbraj back but the emptiness in his chest only throbbed that much more every time his companion came to mind. And that was more often now that it wasn’t around to antagonize him. He didn’t care how he got it back. He needed his darling shadow.
After forcing the tears that threatened to fall and the lump in his throat away by sheer willpower alone, the stag picked himself up from the floor and snapped his fingers, pajamas changing to his signature suit, sans coat and boots. His ankles were sore from running and his boots only ever made it worse.
Alastor headed out of the bathroom, his bedroom, and down the hall towards the stairway. He walked slow, ears twitching now and again as he listened to the night sounds of the bayou outside the manor. He didn’t care if the residents of the hotel were sleeping. He wanted answers now and he would wait for no one. Opening his office door, taking a step inside and closing it behind him, he waited the second or two for the teleportation to take place before turning the knob and heading down the hall towards the elevator of the Hazbin Hotel.
The radios belonging to the sinners and hellborn that had performed whatever fucking spell they had decided to go through with flickered on with an angry pop of static and bellowing feedback.
“Gooooooood Morning my fellow sinners and hellborn! It iiiiiis…” There was a pause, likely to check the time “Three twenty four AM on a beautiful wednesday morning! Up and at ‘em, my fellow demons! We have lots to talk about! Meet me in the lobby’s lounge in ten minutes for a bit of a… chit chat! Don’t be late or you will lose a limb! Or two! Permanently! What fun! Haha!”
Alastor stepped into the lounge, waving a hand for a little bit of redecorating, changing the openness of the area and morphing it into something more casual meeting worthy. One large singular chair sat at the head, where the stag settled comfortably with his elbows resting on the armrests while his fingertips drummed impatiently together, two sofas sprawled out in front of him and a loveseat sat across the coffee table. The wait was taxing, but one by one, each one of the staff made their way down to the lounge, sitting as far away from the radio demon as they possibly could. Husk was the last to trudge his way down, a bottle of rum in hand and a look of unmistakable guilt, shame, and fear.
Husk sat in the spot closest to the stag, the only available spot now, head down and ears back in complete and utter discomfort. Good. The rest seemed less guilty but still remorseful despite their poor choices. Also, good.
“Now that we’re all here, let us discuss what went down precisely four days ago…” He paused, eyes narrowing to slits as he looked over the group. “I want to know what the FUCK you were thinking and what spell you used to banish Lonbraj mwen. Come now, don’t be shy! I bite but I will keep my teeth to myself if you answer these simple questions! Haha!”
Just as Husk opened his mouth to speak, Niffty came scuttling down the stairs with a few distressed squeaks. Alastor had left the woman out of this as she had been the only sinner that had absconded so fast when the group had started conversations about spells and Alastor. She knew better. She was better to be clueless as to what happened than to have known what was to transpire, to stay and try to stop it. Alastor could trust her.
“I’m sorry I’m late! I… I missed a step and had to do everything all over again!” She groaned dramatically, scurrying over to the chair the overlord sat in to hop up onto the back. Niffty’s legs dangled over the cushion along the backrest, a hand settled on the deer’s antler for stability. He didn’t push her away nor did he say anything, trusting her as she never touched him in a way that made his skin crawl.
She was never one to miss out on the suffering of whoever was at the Radio Demon’s wrath. He was the ‘Ultimate Untouchable Bad Boy Who’s more like a Dad than a Daddy’ after all or so the woman liked to describe him as on occasion when she was positively wasted.
He smiled a bit wider, a little more genuine. He had at least one contractee that he could trust not to stab him in the back.
“Niffty, my dear! So nice of you to join us. Although you weren’t one of the wretched sinners I called down, I won’t turn you away if you simply wish to… observe” His grin stretched maniacally, eyes widening in sick, twisted joy. The demons in front of him all flinched, aside from the princess, of course. She simply frowned deeper, shame more evident on her somber features.
“Oooooh~! I wanna watch! This should be soooooo much fun, right Alastor!?” Her smile was just as demented and just as sharp as his own. She relished in the screams and suffering of others, strong as she was. She easily could have been an overlord but she gave it to him, trusting him to run things and take care of her. He keeps his part of the deal. She keeps hers, everything is dandy.
“Oh yes, yes! This will be a fantastic show! Why, I may even start up a broadcast if any of these lowly sinners decide to be anything but satisfactory with the information they share.” This earned him an excited squeal and a devilish cackle from the cyclops.
“Alastor please. It was an accident! We never meant to banish your shadow. We… we only meant to find out what it was or maybe who if it was, you know… uh… a lost soul or something? We just… it was all my idea. They… they were all against it and I didn’t listen. Whatever punishment you’re planning for these guys, give it to me. I’ll take it! Please just… don’t hurt them.” Charlie had dropped to the floor on her knees, hands clasped together tightly and tears freely flowing down her porcelain cheeks. What a revolting display. His lip curled up in a sneer at her begging, rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh. To think he was starting to see her the way he saw Niffty, much like a daughter.
“You can cease your disgusting blubbering. I need none of your apologies. They are fruitless and dry, despite the wet leaking from your eyes. If you had been so curious, why didn’t you just ask? Why am I just now hearing of such things!? Why am I without mon ombre!? You spout and scream about forgiveness and honesty and respecting boundaries but go against everything you preach! You are no better than the man my dear Niffty slew during the battle with heaven! Have you learned nothing of the incident involving Valentino at his studio when you went to demand he allow his contractee more time to frolic around fruitlessly or did the lesson on boundaries go right over your head like everything else!?” He snapped, temper rising with each word he spat.
Anything the group was going to say died on their tongues, Niffty giggling lightly to herself. He paid her no mind, knowing she was only excited for what was to come. The stag towered over them, limbs having extended and antlers growing four new points each at this point. Vaggie didn’t even seem to have anything thoughtful to say, or anything at all for that matter.
Alastor snapped his fingers, the book dropping onto the coffee table that was sat in the middle of the circle of seats.
“One of you is going to show me the exact spell you used and what materials were needed and what you substituted. Don’t give me that look, Husker. You of all people should know that substitution of ingredients and supplies is guaranteed a fail down here in hell. Especially when it comes to Lilith and Lucifer’s magic!” He snarled, the cat swallowing down a few more gulps of his spirit and averting his gaze down to the rug once again.
Angel stood from where he was curled up on the loveseat across from the stag, the furtherest away from him, and stepped nimbly around the table to open the book, flipping through until he reached the page they had used a few days prior. Alastor leaned closer, scanning the text and snarling lightly.
“You managed to fuck up a spell this easy? Charlotte, who taught you spell casting? Surely it wasn’t your parents because both of them could do this spell with their eyes closed and their hands tied behind their backs. This is a simple revealing spell! One of the easy ones at that!” He was exasperated, baffled by the stupidity the woman was portraying.
Snapping the book closed, he waved his hand to the spider dismissively, ignoring him as he fumbled to say something but instead stayed silent and sat back down. Alastor maneuvered around his chair and made his way over to the window by the fireplace to gaze out at the minor carnage across the street, book in hand and both arms behind his back. He could feel the rage boiling under his skin, the urge to spill every single sinner’s blood damn near consuming him. The only thing stopping him was his contract and the need for information.
Well, Husk’s situation was a bit different. He could end the cat’s second life if he very well chose to but the feline was still needed for very important things in the very near future. Husk was a useful soul when pushed to his limits and Alastor wasn’t about let it go to waste. Especially not now.
“I am leaving. Husker, Niffty, you are welcome to stay but I will not be coming back to this hotel. Charlotte, the favor you owe me? Well, you will keep every radio in their rightful place. I will have someone stop by to maintain them monthly. You will not question them. You will not speak to them. That is what I ask that you uphold for you part of the deal. I will continue to maintain mine. If there is intel on angels that you need and I have it, it is yours but do not contact me for anything other than our deal. With that being said, unless it is the only way to bring Lonbraj mwen back, this is the last time you will see me willingly step foot inside this wretched establishment. I pray it continues to fail. Niffty, you shall bring me a list of what materials they used for the spell. I do not give a damn how you get the information darling. That will be up to you.”
Tomb in hand and Niffty’s maniacal laughter cackling behind him, Alastor let himself fade into the shadows, reappearing in his room in the hotel. With a flick of his wrist, the room morphed and changed back to the way it was before he arrived, plain and exactly the same as every other room, the on suite door disappeared and the entrance to the bayou melted into the floor, leaving only the doors to the room and the closet remaining. Stepping outside the room with another sweep of his hand, the hallway began to change, reverting back to its original state while a door or two dissipated into the floorboards.
When he was finished, there wasn’t a trace of the Radio Demon ever having lived there. The top floor was now back to normal, wallpaper peeling and carpet curling in the corners. He sneered, unable to feel anything but disgust for the building he had put so much work into. He felt cheated, played, manipulated, used. He lost the one thing he never wanted to lose, the one thing he couldn’t bear to go without and he gained nothing from the loss. His saliva tasted bitter, leaving a nasty taste in his mouth, tasting like rust and decay, bile and acid, rot and garbage.
He remembered these feelings, eating away at his logic and boiling under his skin. They were the same ones he had when he lost his mother, rage and overwhelming hollowness that came with the loss. The image of her lifeless body cradled in a puddle of blood flashed through his mind, causing his knees to buckle. They gave and he dropped to the floor, head in his hands as he sobbed quietly. He didn’t care that he was in the middle of the hallway. He didn’t care that anyone could stumble upon him. He hoped Charlotte saw how much pain she cause. He prayed that, if she happened to see him like this, she suffered with the guilt for the rest of her life.
He hoped Lonbraj was fairing better than he was. He hoped Lonbraj missed him as much as he missed it. He brought tendrils out to hug him, leaning against the cool appendages for support but they gave little comfort to the mourning stag. The ground under him seemed to swim, tears blurring his vision and breath coming in short, quick heaves. He knew he was going to pass out. He knew it just by the greying corners of his vision and the way his head felt like he had been held upside down for the past hour or so had him slinking into the shadows.
The moment he landed on the soft bed in his bayou manor, his consciousness faded to black.
.
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Upon waking again, Alastor’s eyes flutter open, staring at the radio on the nightstand that was directly in his line of view. It stayed silent as he leered and he willed it to turn on but refused to use his powers to do so. It was Lonbraj’s radio after all. He could manipulate the thing however he pleased, just like every other radio in existence, but he’d built it for the shadow specifically. It hadn’t been turned on in… glancing at the window for reference of time, he noted it was approaching nightfall, then glancing at the digital radio for the date. These marked the end of the fifth day without his eternal companion and the fifth day the radio has stayed silent, the fifth day he completely slept through after passing out from a panic attack.
With a heavy sigh and a frowning smile plastered on his face, he clambered out of bed and headed to the on suite. He needed to piss and maybe break the mirror so he didn’t have to see himself in such an undesirable state.
Upon returning to his room, he took a moment to look around, finding little joy in what he saw without Lonbraj to enjoy it with him. His bloodied hand and the shattered mirror was proof enough he was struggling to cope with the loss. This was worse than losing his mother. This was worse than dying.
Instead of tending to his wound, he snapped his fingers to change into a new suit and fix his hair. He forwent the make up this time, carling little about how swollen his eyelids likely were or the bags that hung heavy under his scarlet stare. He knew he was growing depressed, void of any feeling aside from the lost, hopeless, hollow temper that bubbled and simmered under the surface of his skin at all times.
He swished a hand from waist height upwards to open a portal, stepping through into the streets of Pentagram City. A scream from his left caused him to cringe from the volume, ears flicking and turning to glare at the lowly sinner that pierced his ears with their shrill voice. They fell backwards, eyes tearful and terrified of the radio demon that had appeared beside them out of nowhere.
“Enough blubbering darling. I do not bite if unprovoked. Do stand up and dust yourself off or you’ll ruin that pretty dress of yours.” He stated, turning and stepping away from the sun yellow and emerald green patterned ocelot demon. They had been so terrified, Alastor could see their whiskers trembling and their tail curled around their ankle in comfort.
Upon glancing over his shoulder after a few long paces, the feline had done as he told, standing and dusting off the long dress they had been sporting. It was a bit old fashion but was adorned with fuchsia and black rose embroidered lace from the bottom hem to neckline. It had been a pretty dress and would have been a shame to ruin such a delicate piece of clothing.
“O monchè! Oke... Petèt li pa pral twò difisil pou koud...” The cat demon’s voice caught his attention, sounding familiar and foreign all at once but the Creole is what caught his interest the most, stopping in place and turning to get a better look at the ocelot. Making a decision, he padded his way back over, hooves clip clopping lightly against the pavement.
“Cheri, kite m ede. Mwen te lakòz li apre tout!” The stag grinned widely, invitingly, as little malice as he could muster and creepiness to a minimum. He didn’t want to scare them off. They stepped back, flinching as he got closer before realizing he wasn’t going to hurt them. They peaked out from between their arms, fuchsia and gold eyes peer at him with fear laced curiosity, ears perked towards him and tail twitching by their feet. He noticed they weren’t wearing any shoes either.
“Ou pa bezwen. Se te yon aksidan, mwen panse. Ou pa t vle di li, pa vre?” They take a step back, glancing around at the now empty street before landing their focus back on the radio demon.
“Natirèlman pa! Mwen jis tèlman pè! Oswa sa yo di m '! Haha! Pa enkyete w pou sa. Mwen kraze rad ou. Se jis mwen repare li.” Alastor’s smile tightened the slightest bit, ears flicking slightly as he studied the ocelot closely.
“Mwen devine ou gen rezon. Mèsi paske w ede m.” The other sinner seemed to relax, albeit only slightly at his insistence.
“Manyè kokenn. Papa w dwe te byen anseye w. Vini non. Mwen pral mennen w nan tayè a.” His words brought a smile to their lips and a small giggle from them.
“Papa m 'te yon nonm janti. Manman pa t 'kapab chwazi pèsonn pi byen.”
“Ou gen chans genyen paran renmen konsa. Mwen byen kontan lavi w te fè w byen. Malgre ke, sa ou te fè yo fini desann isit la se pi lwen pase m '. Mwen pa konnen ou ase byen.” The stag meant it too, strangely. He, somehow, felt relieved their parents were good to them.
“Mwen te pase yon dekad ap chase mesye ki te touye manman m e ki te touye yo tout nan san frèt.” Alastor’s eyes widen slightly but it doesn’t hide the fact that his grin had turned curious.
“Mwen, ki sa yon evènman ki te dwe te.” Their stature seemed to relax the more they spoke, especially when Alastor responded with such interest, despite the shortness of his answers.
“O wi! Lè sa a, mwen te pase pwochen... de ane yo, mwen panse, fè menm bagay la pou papa m '. Li nan syèl la menm si. Manman merite sa apre li te yon bon moun pandan li te vivan.” The ocelot bounced on their toes a little at first before they rambled on some more.
“Ala plezi! Di m, ki jan sa te santi lè w te pran revanj ou sou èt imen sa yo?” Did they always do that? Lonbraj did the same thing when it was excited but holding back…
“Oh li te gwo! Te gen yon pakèt eksplozyon ak rèl. Ou ta renmen li!”
“Wi, wi. Sa son tankou yon tan bèl bagay. Ki jan ou rele, ankò? Mwen pa kwè mwen kenbe l.”
“Oh! Adine! Mwen rele Adine! Sa fè lontan mwen pa sonje tout non mwen egzakteman.”
“Ala bèl non. Mwen gendwa sanble yon ti jan pi devan men kisa w chwazi vyann, cheri? Mwen ta renmen mennen ou soti pou dine epi fè konnen ou. Ou pito... enteresan.”
“Oh! Oh... um... Mwen aktyèlman... Mwen renmen fanm.” Adine laughed, holding their stomach and doing their best to tame their giggling. Alastor blinked once, twice, three times before he burst into laughter with them, smile wide and genuine.
“Oh non cheri! Mwen gen yon moun deja, si ou dwe konnen. Anjeneral mwen pa kenbe enterè sa yo nan nenpòt moun, de tout fason.” He managed after calming himself down to little chuckles, waving a hand at her dismissively.
“Nan ka sa a, mwen anjeneral renmen jis sou anyen men demon gen byen yon gou enteresan.”
“Oooh! Byen enteresan, tout bon! Mwen konnen jis kote a, cheri! Vini non, lè sa a!” Alastor smiled a bit more genuine, noticing for the first time in near a week, he didn’t feel so empty, so hollow. As if he knew Adine somehow and they’re meeting again after a long time apart. They reminded him so much of Lonbraj, their laugh only a few octaves too high, accent thicker when they spoke but the expressiveness and the blunt, boldness of their forthcomings and mishaps was a stark resemblance to his ombre.
As they walked, they spoke about anything and everything, their past, the present, sans Alastor’s current situation, and what their plans were for their futures in hell. The stag hesitated to offer a stay at the hotel, given his recent quitting, but he brought it up despite his grievances with the princess of hell. He still had a contract to uphold. He could do that without actually being at the hotel. He could still listen in with the radios being present in the building.
Adine declined, saying they had no plans on redemption but would keep it in mind if they ever did. He gracefully, and gratefully, dropped the subject, veering it off to something different. He asked them when they’d died, wanting to get an idea of how old they were. Their answer had his smile faltering slightly in surprise.
“Pi gran pase ou! Zestial se pi gran pase m ', menm si. Mwen pa ka sonje ane a men yon kote ant 1830 ak 1850.” He didn’t answer right away, blinking a few times before regaining himself.
“My… I thought I was the fourth oldest…” He’d mumbled to himself. They gave him a look, tail flicking slightly behind them.
“I can speak English” Adine’s grin widened deviously, tail curling in delight.
“Oh you little devil. Your Creole is so very fluent! Is it your first language?” He chuckled playfully, smile growing fond. Had Lonbraj been human once? Had a life? A wife and child? Did his companion have a family, someone to love and cherish and protect and to receive the same in return during its life?
“Yes, actually. My mother taught me English before my father was killed. I was barely a teen but she felt it was important in case we were ever captured. We never were. Well, alive. Living in hell just made it easier to pick up the language.” Their grin grew almost manic, biting their lip to likely keep from laughing too much. What a firecracker.
“Well, it’s always good to learn a new skill, regardless of whether it’s for survival or not. You never know when you’ll need it.” They seemed to contemplate this before shrugging, turning around to walk backwards and a bit in front of the stag, arms up and hands folded behind their head casually.
“I guess you got a point. Anyway, who’s this special person you were talking about? You know, the one you implied you wouldn’t commit adultery on?” They teased, tail swaying contently behind them to keep balance. Their ears flop playfully and the lace of their dress fluttered delicately in the breeze.
“Now that is for me to know and for you to find out, my dear. They… aren’t here so any hopes of meeting them are fruitless, darling. Even if I had wanted to flaunt them off as my beau, it is simply impossible as of right now.” Alastor smiled without teeth, compelling the sadness from his features. He could feel how forced it was, brows straining to keep from crumping together and willing the small, pea sized lump in his throat to go away. Oh he was thinking too much about Lonbraj now and how much it wasn’t here with him.
By some miracle, the ocelot seemed to understand, giving him a look as if knowing what he was talking about. They likely assumed he meant that they were in heaven or permanently erased by an exterminator. Either way, Adine did not question him further, to which he was grateful.
They arrived a short time after, still chatting about their shared and individual interests. They had made their way into Cannibal Town, strutting into the best diner around and taking a seat in the very back, where Alastor normally sat when he came in for a cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Adine sat down smoothly into the booth, smiling and going on about how well the family dogs had been trained and all the adventures they’d had as a child.
Alastor ordered venison, as usual, and Adine decided on a feline he’d never heard of. Some type of leopard. He paid it no mind. The stag could feel a small part of him growing content, fond even with Adine’s company. He thought about making a deal with them but before he could voice his considerations, they had accidentally flung their fork during a rather animated part of their story and before he could flick a hand to grab it with a tendril of darkness from his portals, a puppet looking creature popped up out of a fuchsia and black swirling portal and grabbed it. It fell back into the portal and shot out of one right beside the ocelot’s plate.
The symbol on its forehead had his eyes widening that much more in surprise, flicking his gaze back to the sinner across from him.
“My… I never thought I would meet another voodoo practitioner who could still wield the power in hell. What a delightful display, darling. Just the bees knees!” He clapped his hands a little, tail wagging a mile a minute under his coat tails. His grin split his face nearly in two, leaning forward in his seat to get a better look at the little puppet beast while reaching a claw out to poke it in the belly area. It flinched and batted his finger away, crossing its arms before hopping from the table to the top of Adine’s head to sit between their ears.
“Yeah. Dad taught me a little. Mom did too but her magic was always about giving. Guess that’s why she made it into heaven while I got stuck down here and dad was thrown into limbo. I heard he was let out about a century or so ago but I would have felt his magic. Lilith would have told me too. She made a deal, after all.”
“Not a soul deal, correct?”
“Oh hell no! You don’t live in hell as long as I have and hand your soul away to the queen just for some measly information on family.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Zestial is ancient and his magic far surpasses mine. That’s why I kept him alive. I likely would have met my second death rather quickly if I were to fight him alone, I must admit. You mentioned you might be about as old if not, a tad younger? You would likely be the second oldest sinner in hell. Lucifer and Lilith do not count. They rule hell. They are ‘above’ us, or so they like to flaunt.” He shrugged with a carefree smile, taking another bite of his meal.
“They might be the oldest beings in hell, but the void far surpasses the age of hell and heaven. There are deities and beings in the void that are far older than God, even. We’re only given so much information, Alastor. Heaven and the rulers of Hell only want us knowing about this existence and the punishment for our existence on Earth. They don’t want us to know that, even though God is all powerful, they aren’t the only thing that can create life from absolutely nothing.”
Alastor stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating their words and thinking over what he knew. He already knew this, well, most of it. He hadn’t known the void held other deities, let alone ones that could create like God. He knew the void was infinite and was far older than the creation of hell and heaven alike but other gods and goddesses that were just as powerful as God and possibly older changed how he saw the game a little bit. A lot actually.
“I know that look.” Alastor’s ears perk, head tilting slightly as he looked at the ocelot across the booth from him.
“And what look might that be?”
“You, my fellow demon, are a deal maker. A well known one at that. Now, what are your terms? I have my own but I’d like to state that my soul is not and never will be, unless you know where my father is and can set up a permanent reunion, on the table. I haven’t found a soul yet who knows who, where, or what he is so I doubt you will either. Nor do I believe you know how to reach the void he’s stuck in. Shit is massive and has different sectors and shit. Never understood it fully but dad was a pretty good teacher. Same with manman.”
He couldn’t help but stare at the older demon, eyes blinking owlishly before he burst out laughing. Some of the other patrons, who had seated themselves as far away from the radio demon as possible, flinched, some standing and darting for the door. His laughter only raised in volume, morphing into something more maniacal and demented at the fear he could practically taste wafting from the terrified sinners. Once Alastor had well and truly calmed down, wiping a stray drop of moisture from the corner of his eye, he finally spoke.
“My darling, I wouldn’t ask you for your soul. If you are as old as you say, your magic must be powerful, possibly moreso than mine and I am smart enough not to make a deal regarding souls with someone who far surpasses myself. I have no idea who, what, or where your father might be as I personally have sent many deserving souls to the voids in my portals but none older than I. If I’m to end a sinner’s existence, especially one older than yours truly, I would simply eat them. In the literal sense, might I add. I have no desire for other… carnal activities with another sinner aside from my Lonbraj. Although… I cannot say for sure if they are sinner or not.” His lip curled in disgust at the thought of having sex with another person aside from his eternal companion.
“Oh cool. Alright then. So let me just…” with a snap of their fingers and a small cloud of pink smoke, a paper appeared in their hand and they slid it across the table towards the stag. “Go ahead and read over that. I’ll let you-! Oh ok.”
The second Alastor’s fingers touched the paper, he waved his other hand with a puff of black smoke and green static, handing his expectations over and what he’s also willing to offer before they could even finish what they were going to say. Adjusting the monocle, his eyes flitted over the parchment quickly, flicking his gaze back up to Adine once he was finished. They were still reading over his own paper of terms and conditions, raising a brow here and there, their grin only growing the more they read.
Their thoroughness surprised him, watching as they finished then flipped the page. Seeing as the back was blank, they waved a hand over it to make sure magic wasn’t hiding anything before turning it back to the front to reread. He almost believed that they took a third time to go over it and recheck the back without turning it. Maybe it seemed too good to be true? He was only completely honest in what he wanted and what he was willing to offer. He wasn’t like those other deal makers, coercing and manipulating and hiding certain conditions and keeping things vague enough for abuse. His deals were upfront and, while they may be vague in some places, both parties would benefit in some way, shape or form in the end.
He didn’t blame them, though. It was natural to be suspicious of an overlord like himself. He was a sneak and sly as a fox in some cases but only to those who were deserving. This demon, Adine, seemed more deserving of his gentleman side. They already held his respect as another sinner, much higher in regards of status and their significance in age.
“So what’s the catch?”
“Pardon?”
“What’s the catch, Alastor? The part of the contract that says ‘Ahah! I gotcha!’ Where’s that at? Cause this all seems more like I’m the holder of the contract, not you, which, from what I’ve heard, you aren’t one to let anyone hold a contract over you. So, like I asked before, what’s the catch?” Alastor stared at the ocelot for a moment, eyes narrowing the slightest bit in his momentary silence.
“There is one… favor… I didn’t add to in detail as I am, to be quite honest, entirely unsure of what all that favor would entail.”
“Does this ‘favor’ have anything to do with your Lonbraj? They uh… seem kind of important to you.”
“Yes. You are correct in your assumptions. Your magic is similar enough to my own and you are far older than I am so you have had more time to familiarize yourself with your abilities. I only hope that your powers will be of use in retrieving my Lonbraj.”
“So… you fuck your shadow?” There was the sound of a record scratching despite the music in the diner having continued on without interruption. He hesitated in answering, ears flicking slightly and eyes narrowing the slightest bit.
“What makes you say that, my dear?”
“Well, one… Lonbraj means shadow, you know this. I know this. And two, you don’t have a fucking shadow. At all. You leave nothing behind even in this lighting and any lighting. And three, you even stated you wanted nothing to do with anyone except your Lonbraj, meaning, you fuck your shadow. I just figured I’d ask and see if you’d admit it.” Adine giggled, tail swaying beside them playfully.
“I will not admit nor deny that statement. Think what you will. My words could easily mean companionship in the most platonic of ways. You could be reading too far into it. How will you know? Only I can tell.” The stag grinned right back, pushing his empty plate to the edge of the table for the server to take. Adine took a moment to stack the plates evenly, adding their own empty dishes to the pile. Their actions didn’t go unnoticed by the stag, raising a brow but not questioning them. He usually wasn’t one to care about the state of his dishes when he was finished eating out. They either were thrown out or pushed to the other side of the usually empty booth in halfheartedly stacked piles if he was particularly hungry.
“Yeah whatever. I still think you fuck them. Speaking of your shadow, is it like, some sinner you forced into a contract to be that way or is it literally an extension of yourself? I have some shadow magic but it’s all me. My shadow isn’t animated like yours is.”
“If I am being quite honest, which I have been so far, I am… not sure. Lonbraj has been with me since birth, up until a handful of days ago. It’s always had a mind of it’s own albeit very obedient in following my commands and is rather in tune with my needs and wants without much of a thought. I cannot say for sure what it is, be it another sinner who was tasked with the unfortunate duty of being my shadow for eternity and thereafter or a disconnected extension of myself, I do not know. I was… hoping that you may help me find this out while also looking for ways to bring it back. This is a lot to ask of another and this, overall, is a very delicate matter. We may have just met, but I feel that I can trust you. You… also remind me of it, personality wise. That’s another thing that’s different between myself and my shadow. While our tastes are similar and align near perfectly, Lonbraj does have its own personal likes and dislikes that differ from my own.”
It took Alastor a moment to realize he had been rambling, his cheeks flushing the slightest bit while his ears twitch from the heat rising in them. Adine only smiled and leaned against their palm as they listened, elbow on the table and eyes shining with interest.
“Oh no, do continue! This Lonbraj sounds interesting! I mean, you did say I remind you of them, right? You don’t think that would leave someone overly curious about someone they’ve never met?” The stag raised a brow, ever present grin dropping a notch and the corners turning down in a look that screamed ‘You aren’t serious…’ which was returned with an expression of ‘I’m very serious.’ Alastor sighed, rolling his eyes in defeat. He waited a few moments for the server to leave again, watching them hobble into the kitchen with the stack of plates.
“If you insist…” He huffed lightly, leaning his cheek into his palm and pulling his coffee mug closer.
“I’ve known Lonbraj my entire existence, as you know. I’ve known it as nothing more than a wispy eternal companion almost as long. It’s only in the last year or two that it’s become… well… more than that, if you will. I… it’s complicated. I like to believe Lonbraj is more than just my shadow, more than an eternal servant bestowed upon me by God or another deity. I like to believe it had a life… long before the thought of my existence, a family, maybe a wife and children. I’m sure you had that, didn’t you?” They shook their head, an almost sad smile spreading on their lips.
“No… I had a few partners topside but I never married or had kids. I didn’t want that. I was more worried about getting revenge for my parents’ deaths. I’m sure your shadow had all that, if it were mortal. Hell, it might actually be and it’s just stuck in some limbo or something? If that’s the case, it’ll be fucking hard but the steps are written down somewhere. I have some books back at my place about the void and the sectors and limbo and shit. I think we should also find somewhere a little more private to go over anything else with the contract.”
Alastor nodded in agreement, snapping his fingers and his terms parchment dissipated into a cloud of smoke and electricity. Their’s blipped into a puff of pink dust, settling as glitter on the table. The stag cringed at the pile of shining flecks of forever. He held his breath and carefully slid from the booth, making sure the pile lay undisturbed. Niffty had pulled a prank on him once with glitter and he was still finding it in his hair and fur on the anniversary of the prank. Never again.
Adine let out a little giggle, waving a hand to pop the glitter out of existence and standing. Glancing down at the dress, they sighed at the rip that still went up along the side hem of the lace. After a second of staring at it, the strands and thread began to stitch itself back together. A green and black needle went to work patching the rip, looking as if nothing ever happened once it was finished. They twirled with a with grin, giggling a bit to themselves as they looked over the handy work.
“Thanks Al! I could have done it myself but it’s a pain since I was never that great at sewing when I was alive. It looks amazing!” They gushed, bringing the hem up to study it better. Running their thumbs along the roses and shapes, it was as if the rip never happened, brand new, flawless as the day they bought it. Adine let the hem drop back down around their ankles, grin wide and grateful.
“It’s not a problem, darling. I caused you to rip it, it’s only fair I mend it. We can forgo the trip to the tailor’s. Now, we have books to read and information to find. If you would be so kind as to lead the way, Adine dear?” He smiled, holding a hand out for them to go first and following close behind. Just before walking out, Alastor had dropped the amount due along with a decent tip at the counter before opening the doors for his new acquaintance.
Alastor seemed to remember his injured hand in the next moments after leaving the diner, the glove feeling too tight and soaked through. It was a miracle he hadn’t gotten blood everywhere before now, what with the irritated slices and the tiny shards of glass he hadn’t bothered to pick out of his knuckles. The glove was removed and he went about picking the glass from the meat of his hand, expression even and disinterested. He barely felt it but the slightest hint of pain calmed his nerves some.
Adine seemed to notice, stepping slightly in front of the stag and holding a hand up to stop him without actually touching him. The gesture was appreciated immensely and his respect for the ocelot only grew that much more. Their hand turned, palm up, for him to place his own in so they could take a look at the wound. Hesitantly, cautiously, eyes squinted in an unspoken threat as he did just that, bare claws resting in the other’s paw gently.
Their other paw came up and over his, simply hovering an inch away for a moment before the leftover shards of glass start to dissipate and the cuts start to mend themselves, glowing a faint fuchsia. Alastor raised a brow in slight confusion, wondering if Adine had natural healing powers or if they were an overlord of sorts. They’d never gone to any meetings that he could remember. Not that he’d gone in a consistent manner, mostly when Vox wouldn’t be there.
“Are you, by any chance, an overlord?”
“Nope! Manman taught me healing magic when she was alive and boy was I good at it. I was able to heal a bird’s broken wing in less than a week. Mama said it was a miracle from God, that he blessed me with these abilities. Never really believed the whole God part but they’re a lot more instant now. I can’t complain.” They grinned at him, letting his hand go carefully and turning to continue walking.
Alastor brought his hand up to study it, noticing how he hadn’t a scar from the wound. The skin was clear, smooth, unblemished. The old scars that had been there had been healed as well. The same scars he had gotten from his death.
“What magic did you say you practiced, darling?”
“Um… I’m gonna call it old world Magick, for lack of a better term. Dad didn’t like the way the new world Magick had changed to be more… Christian, I guess. I didn’t understand the reasoning but I got into both after falling into hell. I, unfortunately, died only a few years after getting revenge for my father’s death so I never had the time, then, to learn.” Alastor was surprised by how open they were about their past and their abilities. He supposed he had been too, letting slip about his Lonbraj and the true nature of their relationship while also allowing them sneak peaks at his own past.
“Interesting indeed… would you be apposed to my adding another proposition to our deal? I am immensely intrigued by your knowledge on the… ahem… old world Magick, as you’ve put it. You could say I am well versed in the new world Magick and I am always open to gaining knowledge on how to wield my powers and how to grow them. I still plan on taking my place as top overlord of hell. I have no plans of overthrowing Lucifer himself, just the royals below him and the rest of the overlords prattling about the Pride ring.” Adine laughed, tail swishing thoughtfully and playfully.
“You must be one strong and ambitious motherfucker then. You plan on taking Zestial and Carmilla out? Don’t think they’ll take too kindly to being forced into submission. They much rather prefer deals. The Vs however, there’s no convincing them to lick the bottom of your hooves. Might as well just kill and eat them.” Their words bring a laugh from his chest, loud and boisterous.
“Oh heavens no. Zestial and Carmilla are dear friends of mine. Or… well… I suppose they would be more like close acquaintances at best. It would do me well to seek deals and favors and allegiances from them instead of submission. They would make good allies in the long run so there’s no need to tarnish the wild rose bushes where they stand. Now the Vs on the other hand, why, they will die. Simple as that. They will permanently seize to exist. There is no question there. You are welcome to watch and I would never turn down the opportunity to observe you in a scuffle if you chose to join.”
“You bet your ace, I’ll be watching! I don’t do a whole lot of fighting unless they throw the first punch, ya know, so I won’t join. Morals and bullshit.” They laugh lightly, Alastor joining in but a moment later, a laugh track playing from the staff in his hand.
“Oh yes, I know what you mean, darling. I won’t force you to do what you don’t want but the invitation is still there if you ever wish to take it. Now, I would hate to sound like I do not enjoy your company to the point of wishing to hurry along our little engagement, but I do have other things I must attend to at some point today. With that being said, I simply ask, how long until we have reached our destination?” He asked, doing his best to sound polite but still attempting to keep the facade of being put together, despite the pain he could still feel in his chest from the hollowness in his heart. He still needed to see Rosie.
“Oh we’re just another couple minutes. It won’t take more than ten if we walk slow, five if we keep our pace.” Adine grinned, sharp fangs spread in a familiar, good natured smile. They held their hand out, as if asking to hold his and he gave a small shrug, lifting an elbow and meeting their grin when their claws slipped around his arm. They continued on their way, the streets clearing themselves when they saw who was coming, sinners scrambling into alleyways and dropping themselves down manholes just to scream in agony from the acidic water below.
Once they had arrived and Adine had treated the both of them to a cup of coffee, they sat down in their living room to go over the details of their mutual contract, spending a majority of their time on that rather than Alastor’s initial interest. Not that he could complain. He could benefit immensely from a powerful ally such as Adine.
One important detail that Alastor refused to leave out at the diner was to request Adine kept a radio of the overlord’s choosing either on their person, or in their home at all times. They agreed to this requirement without any fuss, even going as far as to conjure one up out of thin air to drop carefully on their desk as they spoke.
The stag hadn’t spent more time than he needed to with the ocelot, leaving shortly after signing each other’s contracts and promising to stay in touch. An hour later, Alastor found himself stepping into a close friend’s emporium, the bell above the door ringing out to announce his arrival. Rosie’s voice rang out across the room, red and black tipped ears swiveling to meet the woman quickly approaching. She enveloped him in a tight hug, one he easily and readily returned with a fond hum.
“Alastor? Oh Alastor, sweetie! Oh, darling it’s been ages! Come in, come in, my sweet!”
Notes:
ALL TRANSLATIONS ARE FROM GOOGLE TRANSLATE. I speak NONE of these languages except for english so I apologize profusely if any of them are wrong. Please let me know if they are and leave the translation if you can so I can properly translate them!
Creole
Lonbraj: Shadow
Lonbraj mwen: my Shadow
Mwen Bezwen Ou: I need you
O monchè! Oke... Petèt li pa pral twò difisil pou koud...: Oh man! Well… Maybe it won’t be too hard to sew…
Cheri, kite m ede. Mwen te lakòz li apre tout!: Honey, let me help. I caused it after all!
Ou pa bezwen. Se te yon aksidan, mwen panse. Ou pa t vle di li, pa vre?: You don't need to. It was an accident, I think. You didn't mean it, did you?
Natirèlman pa! Mwen jis tèlman pè! Oswa sa yo di m '! Haha! Pa enkyete w pou sa. Mwen kraze rad ou. Se jis mwen repare li: Of course not! I'm just so scary! Or so they tell me! Haha! Don't worry about it. I broke your clothes. It's just me fixing it.
Mwen devine ou gen rezon. Mèsi paske w ede m: I guess you are right. Thank you for helping me.
Manyè kokenn. Papa w dwe te byen anseye w. Vini non. Mwen pral mennen w nan tayè a: Fantastic manner. Your father must have taught you well. Come on. I will take you to the tailor.
Papa m 'te yon nonm janti. Manman pa t 'kapab chwazi pèsonn pi byen: My father was a kind man. Mom couldn't have chosen anyone better.
Ou gen chans genyen paran renmen konsa. Mwen byen kontan lavi w te fè w byen. Malgre ke, sa ou te fè yo fini desann isit la se pi lwen pase m '. Mwen pa konnen ou ase byen: You are lucky to have such loving parents. I'm glad your life has been good to you. Although, what you did to end up here is beyond me. I don't know you well enough.
Mwen te pase yon dekad ap chase mesye ki te touye manman m e ki te touye yo tout nan san frèt: I spent a decade hunting down the men who killed my mother and killed them all in cold blood.
Mwen, ki sa yon evènman ki te dwe te: My, what an event that must have been.
O wi! Lè sa a, mwen te pase pwochen... de ane yo, mwen panse, fè menm bagay la pou papa m '. Li nan syèl la menm si. Manman merite sa apre li te yon bon moun pandan li te vivan: Oh yes! Then I spent the next... two years, I think, doing the same for my father. It's heaven though. Mom deserves it after being a good person while she was alive.
Ala plezi! Di m, ki jan sa te santi lè w te pran revanj ou sou èt imen sa yo?: What fun! Tell me, how did it feel to get your revenge on those human beings?
Oh li te gwo! Te gen yon pakèt eksplozyon ak rèl. Ou ta renmen li!: Oh it was great! There were a lot of explosions and screams. You would like it!
Wi, wi. Sa son tankou yon tan bèl bagay. Ki jan ou rele, ankò? Mwen pa kwè mwen kenbe l: Yes, yes. That sounds like a wonderful time. What's your name, again? I don't think I caught it.
Oh! Adine! Mwen rele Adine! Sa fè lontan mwen pa sonje tout non mwen egzakteman: Oh! Adine! My name is Adine! It's been so long I don't remember my full name exactly.
Ala bèl non. Mwen gendwa sanble yon ti jan pi devan men kisa w chwazi vyann, cheri? Mwen ta renmen mennen ou soti pou dine epi fè konnen ou. Ou pito... enteresan: What a beautiful name. I may seem a bit forward but what's your choice of meat, darling? I would like to take you out to dinner and get to know you. You're rather...interesting.
Oh! Oh... um... Mwen aktyèlman... Mwen renmen fanm: Oh! Oh... um... I actually... I like women.
Oh non cheri! Mwen gen yon moun deja, si ou dwe konnen. Anjeneral mwen pa kenbe enterè sa yo nan nenpòt moun, de tout fason: Oh no dear! I have someone already, if you must know. I don't usually hold those interests in anyone, anyway.
Nan ka sa a, mwen anjeneral renmen jis sou anyen men demon gen byen yon gou enteresan: In this case, I usually like just about anything but demons have quite an interesting taste.
Oooh! Byen enteresan, tout bon! Mwen konnen jis kote a, cheri! Vini non, lè sa a!: Oooh! Quite interesting, indeed! I know just the place, darling! Come, then!
Pi gran pase ou! Zestial se pi gran pase m ', menm si. Mwen pa ka sonje ane a men yon kote ant 1830 ak 1850: Older than you! Zestial is older than me, though. I can't remember the year but somewhere between 1830 and 1850.
French
Ombre: Shadow
Mon Ombre: My Shadow
Pardon?: Sorry?
Chapter 2: It’s you I like. Not the things you wear... It’s you I like.
Summary:
‘Cause it’s you I like.
Every part of you.
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings,
Whether old or new.Hope you will remember,
Even when you’re feeling blue;
It’s you I like.
It’s you, yourself;
It’s you.It’s you I like.
He hummed quietly along with the song, all up until it ended and the piano faded out to nothing. Alastor chanced one more glance at the woman on the bed, hand pressed to her heart and a tender affectionate look on her face. It made him want to stay and cuddle for the rest of the night but he had to start on his search for Lonbraj. He couldn’t continue to procrastinate any longer.
Notes:
Hiya everyone!!
Gosh it’s been a while since I’ve posted any chapters! I’m really sorry for that y’all. It’s been hectic. My car broke down, I’m still waiting for my appointment for the wisdom teeth removal, my cats need flea collars, one needs their shots, etc etc. This list goes on.
Anyway! This chapter is the tail end of Alastor’s visit with Rosie but it’s the most important part. We see a little more of Lonbraj’s progress on his end but through Alastor’s eyes. Lots of sad Alastor. Lots of confused Alastor. Lots of Alastor working through pesky emotions. It’s tame and probably boring but it’s needed.
I want to mention that translations will now be right after dialogue that isn’t English. I will still have the translation note at the end of each chapter so do expect that.
With that being said, I want to thank everyone who interacts with my fics. I love y’all and I hope y’all enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Oh Alastor… I’m so sorry darling… This cannot be easy for you.” The woman’s smile turned sympathetic, arms outstretched to the other overlord for him to rest into for comfort. He hesitated and all he could feel were the tears bubbling up again and the lump in his throat bunching to painful.
“Come to Momma Rosie, my sweet bambi…” She murmured and Alastor doesn’t faulter another moment before falling into her arms, his face pressing into her bosom as he let out a quiet sob. Her warm hands pet over his folded ears and along his shoulders and back, soothing the distraught sinner the best she could with her whispered praises and sweet nothings in a gentle and affectionate voice.
He’d been crying more in the past week than he had in his entire existence but somehow, this was different. His closest friend was here to comfort him and hold him while he let go of his reserve. He wasn’t alone to wallow in the loss and grief of losing the one being he didn’t think he could possibly lose. She wouldn’t judge him nor would she let a peep of this out to anyone.
They lay together in Rosie’s bed at the emporium, Alastor curled in on himself with his arms around her middle and face buried against her chest. He’d forgone boots that day so he insisted on an old towel to lay down to avoid staining her sheets with dirt and blood despite Rosie arguing that it was ‘fine and he didn’t need to worry his darling little head about it’. Her form was much more relaxed than his own, an arm around his waist and a hand petting and carding through his hair as he wet the front of her dress with his tears. She didn’t mind much at all, more concerned with the quietly blubbering deer in her bed. It took Alastor a while to finally calm down enough to talk again, keeping himself pressed close to the woman and clinging to her like his life depended on it.
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this… I’m sorry th-that I burden you with my messes…”
“Oh Ally-cat… Shoosh now, darling… What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t support you in your times of need, hmm? What kind of friend would I be if I left you to fend for yourself? A terrible one, that’s what. I don’t offer my services, free, to just anyone, my sweet.” She gave a boop to his nose once he shifted enough to look up at her through dampened scarlet lashes, giving a subdued sniffle from the touch.
“Now that you’ve gotten all of that out of your system, what do you plan to do?” Alastor’s eyes drift away from her’s, gaze wandering around the room as he thought about what he wanted to do, what he needed to do next. He needed to get Lonbraj back, he knew that for sure, but the steps to achieving that goal alluded him.
“I… I don’t know… I don’t think Charlotte’s measly spell was what took Lonbraj from me, although, it may have played a part in this petty thievery, albeit very little...” He was quiet for a few moments, collecting the rest of his thoughts. “For the first time in a century, I have no clue where to start, where to move forward, what lead to take first, regardless of the lack of. Rosie… for the first time in a hundred years, I am lost and I am clueless as to what I need to do next. This would be so much easier with Lonbraj here…” He muttered that last part, claws fiddling idly with the laces of her dress, not to undo them but to simply do something with his hands that didn’t involve bunching up her dress in a death grip. He would hate to ruin another one of her dresses with a tear from his distress.
“Hmm… Yes, yes it certainly would, wouldn’t it? But look at it this way, this could give you a chance to really learn yourself. You’ve been exploring your sexuality for the past year or so and, while I’m mighty proud of you, darling, you need to explore your other sides. Maybe the side that makes your heart swell and your chest warm with contentment. Maybe the side that you aren’t familiar with or comfortable exploring. Maybe explore what really makes yourself tick. You can’t always find that in another, even if that person happens to be your shadow.” The silence stretched on for far too long as he took in her words, wanting to straight up deny he needed anyone or anything to feel content in his life, despite his disarray of emotions and thoughts with the loss of his shadow.
Although, he had been feeling the itch of boredom the past couple months leading up to this. Not with the hotel, or Lonbraj, or his private activities with the shadow, or the residents, or any of the sorts. He’s content with what he has built in his afterlife. He couldn’t be happier. No, he was feeling bored of himself. It’s always the same quips, the same arguments, the same snappy behavior, the same off handed compliments that could still be taken as insults. He felt tired of doing the same thing day in and day out, responding to everything the same, trapped in this routine of his.
Maybe Rosie was right. Maybe he needed to do some ‘soul searching’, to put it simply. He’d never taken the time to just learn himself down to the why, always giving Lonbraj the duty of such things and taking his emotions and the events to cause them as they came without much thought on how they actually effected and impacted him.
“Darling… Sometimes I hate how right you can be. You are the only person who can get under my skin without attempting to peal it away for your own benefit. I am forever grateful for your presence in my afterlife and I can only hope to make it up to you in some way.” His voice was soft, vulnerable as he spoke, resting his head against her chest as it pillowed him, her perfectly manicured claws brushing through his red locks.
“Hmm… I suppose you do have some making up to do but you take all the time you need, my sweet. There is no rush to get back to normal. It can’t be normal until you figure out how to bring back your precious shadow, after all. Until then, figure some things out about yourself. I’m always here to talk when you need it, darling.” She was quiet as she leaned in to place a kiss to his eyebrow before speaking again. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you still have yet to told me everything that’s happened lately, mister. You’re still hiding something from me.” The cannibal mistress teased, giggling a little as her obsidian lips stretched to reveal her sharp fangs in an endearing smile.
“Oh you…” He smiled and let out a soft breath, his arms squeezing around her slim waist for a fraction of a second before relaxing. He really did love her, even if that love was purely platonic. She knew just what to say, what to do, at least when it came to matters of the heart.
“Yes… you are right. There is more that has happened, just today actually, not long before I arrived. I met someone, an acquaintance right now, but hopefully a friend and an ally in the future. They were quite charming and a cannibal at that! Oh you would love them. They’re not far off in age from Zestial too. They practice Vodou as well! Oh I still haven’t told you their name, silly me, haha! Their name is Adine, no last name to recall. The dress they wore was absolutely gorgeous, let me tell you!” Rambling seemed to be his go to for the day and that didn’t stop him from going on and on about every little detail he could think of about the ocelot, growing increasingly animated with each little thing he gushed about his new mutual contract holder.
Rosie listened without interrupting, speaking only when the opportunity struck or Alastor asked a question. The topic shifted from Adine to other things, ranging vastly from the newest residents he’d last seen at the hotel, to when he planned on partaking in some carnage and slaughter on a much larger scale. The mistress made Alastor promise to invite her on his next outing, to which he happily complied. It’d been ages since they’d last basked in the screams and the music that was breaking bones and ripping flesh together. It’d been even longer since he’d invited her on a broadcast as co-host.
Alastor’s hands skirt up her back, if only to hold her closer and nuzzle his face into her soft bosom once again. Her laughter bubbled against his ears and he couldn’t help but smile, pulling back his head long enough to press a small kiss to her cheek.
“Rosie, darling, you know I mean this in the most platonic of ways, but I love you, dear.” He murmured.
“Oh Alastor, my bambi, I love you too.” Rosie cooed, squeezing him that much tighter against her before carefully sitting up. She untangled the stag’s arms from around her middle, pressing a quick peck to his cheekbone before climbing out of bed to dart off towards the kitchenette. Not even a moment later does the timer on the small oven go off, leaving Alastor to pull the blankets up to the bridge of his nose to peak at her while the other overlord pulled a steaming tray of beignets from the oven.
Sweet and subtle strawberries and peaches wafted from the pastries and he couldn’t help but smile, letting out a breath as he took in the woman’s scent that was imbedded in the sheets.
The stag seemed to doze off in the time it took for Rosie to wait until the pastries cooled enough to dust on some confectionery sugar. A nudge to his cheek and fingers through the fringe of his hair woke him from his tease with sleep. Still damp scarlet lashes fluttered open to reveal just as red eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at the overlord. She smiled down at him and offered a saucer with a decadent looking beignet.
“Oh Rosie…” He breathed, a yawn sneaking up on him as he sat up and took the plate from the woman. The bed dipped as she sat on the edge, crossing her legs and watching him with a tender smile as he took a bite out of the dessert. He wasn’t one to enjoy sweet things but he could never say no to Rosie’s pastries, not when they burst with tart and fruit flavors with just a smidge of sweetness to level it out. His ears jitter a little, buzzing with feedback as he devoured the pastry in slow, deliberate bites.
“You never fail to disappoint, my dear. I must ask for a doggy bag for later so I may remember you and your words while I wallow in my self deprecation in my bayou.” He said somberly, ears drooping and smile faltering slightly. Alastor could go on and on about the hollowness and the pain that went along with his lack of a shadow but Rosie had already endured enough of his self-pity and somber attitude towards the world now that he was without Lonbraj. She deserved better.
“Now, Alastor. None of that, my sweet. What would your darling Lonbraj say about the state you’re in? What would it want you to do? Surely the shade doesn’t want you to become depressed and detrimental in its absence? How will you ever bring it back in a state like that?” She asked, smile softening in sympathy. Alastor gave a nod and sighed in defeat.
“I owe you more than I can ever imagine to repay you-!” Rosie’s hands dart up to smack gently against the other sinner’s cheeks, both to gain his attention and to hopefully slap some sense into him.
“Alastor, please, darling. That’s quite enough of this pathetic display, my sweet. I know you are hurting, immensely so, but this is so not like you, my sweet bambi. You weren’t even like this when your mother passed away. Where has your confidence gone? Surely Lonbraj didn’t steal it away along with your heart?” He was silent as she spoke, still very much so after she finished, eyes downcast and fiddling with the sheets idly.
“I am not whole… I feel empty… Void of anything that made me, well, me. I do not feel pleasure in the things I usually would, reading, broadcasting, terrorizing the streets every now and then. It just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth when I make attempts to enjoy the hobbies I’ve grown to love. I now have come to realize that, sharing my life with Lonbraj has given me a blanket of familiarity and comfort and a sense of never being truly alone that, now that he’s gone, so is my joy in life and the afterlife. How can I have confidence if I do not have all of myself?” Alastor doesn’t meet her gaze, eyes wandering off to distract himself with the trinkets and nicknacks and decor scattered stylishly around the room. His eyes land on one, a small radio sat on the vanity by the woman’s table mirror. It was grey with pink and red undertones along the rose engravings placed in clusters along the otherwise smooth wooden surface.
Alastor had given the radio to Rosie not long after landing in Hell. He had immediately gone in search for her after he’d made his presence known to every other denizen in Hell, showing up at her emporium with a grand entrance, scaring all of the patrons looking for Rosie’s advice or other services out the front door in their fear of losing their lives, despite being cannibals as well. He’d known her during life and wanted to finally meet the man she had been married to during life and death. He was gifted a sobbing but ecstatic Rosie in his arms, hugging him and kissing his face with glee. He’d taken the onslaught of affection with gusto, finally pulling away when she had her fill in showering him with platonic love. Only for Alastor to spend the next week catching up and spending time with the cannibalistic dame, regardless of what her husband wanted.
A hand on Alastor’s shoulder brought him from his train of thought, blinking his way into focus as he met her blackened gaze.
“Maybe you need to just set some time for yourself, do things you know you like, indulge yourself in your baser instincts. Take care of you before you lose what mindfulness you have, darling. You deserve to treat yourself after all you’ve went through. I know you feel empty and nothing seems to be making it better. Maybe time won’t help but treating yourself like garbage… well, you’re not gonna get him back if you aren’t at your best. Lonbraj has always been a patient being, from my understanding, and I don’t think it’s going anywhere, wherever it may be. If worst comes to worst, you need to be prepared to wait possibly years to find it. Or, if we’re lucky, you could find it by next week!” Her smile beamed optimism and he couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his stomach of butterflies and hope at the thought of being reunited by next week, notwithstanding how unlikely that outcome may be.
With a soft sigh and an uptick in his smile, his features softened and he relaxed for the first time in a week.
“I should really listen to your advice instead of my own internal monologue. Your voice is much lovelier and you have quite a way with words. It would be a refreshing change to hear your voice telling me what I need to hear in the moment instead of listening to the depravity stewing in my mind.” He sighed again with a shrug, climbing out of the bed to serve himself another beignet.
“That’s my sweet bambi~!” Rosie cooed, holding her hands to her cheeks as she stared at the stag in adoration. He felt a swell in his chest, pride at being able to gain the praise and affection for the woman who puts up with him and guides him in his times of need. She was like the big sister he never had or the mother figure he was stripped of when his actual mother was killed. He still had yet to decide which felt more natural to accept despite how both titles fit the woman he cared for deeply.
It took him mere moments to take another beignet from the cooling rack and sink his teeth into the dough, hovering the treat over his plate to avoid dusting sugar all of the floor and his shirt. Peaches and tart sweetness filled his mouth when he bit into the pastry, his tail wagging a mile a minute and his eyes closing while he chewed the delicacy.
“You and Lonbraj with that name. I will never understand it but if it makes the two of you happy, then I suppose I can tolerate it.” He shrugged, taking another bite with a happy hum, tail wiggling faster against the back of his slacks. He’d taken his coat off after they’d entered the bedroom, hung on the coatrack by the door, so his tri-colored tail was in full view.
“You’re a deer, sweetheart, and an adorable one at that! Why, if I didn’t know you were aroace and already with your dearest shadow, I would be wooing you until I had you swept off your feet, darling. I would gobble you up!” She giggled, and Alastor couldn’t help an amused laugh, finishing off his pastry before placing the dish in the small sink for him to clean later.
“Yes, yes, you’ve told me before, dear, and I say the same thing every time. If I wanted to be with you romantically, I would, but you and I both know that will never happen darling. But… that doesn’t change the fact that I still love you dearly and would transform hell into what earth portrayed this cess pool to be. They will all suffer at my hands for taking my darling Rosie from me.” He smiled gently, ears flicking and tilted back in embarrassment as his cheeks flush with the slightest bit of color.
“Oh Alastor.” She crooned, pretending to swoon as she let her self fall back onto the bed, dragging a gleeful giggle from the stag.
“Oh you!” Alastor teased, waving a hand gently, passively, before going for his coat by the door. He doesn’t plan on leaving yet, not until Rosie either kicked him out for overstaying his welcome or he would leave on his own. Either way, he still wanted the familiar weight of his coat on his torso and the smooth surface of his cane in his claws. He could relax with Rosie for a little while longer before Alastor would wander his way back to his radio tower to start on some of the tombs Adine had lent him.
Meanwhile, Rosie had rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows with her delicate chin on her palms. Her feet lift to kick idly behind her, heels clicking together every now and then as they brush past one another during her leg movements. It briefly brought the memory of when he had made his deal with Charlotte and he wasn’t sure if he should feel reminiscent or infuriated by the thought of the princess.
Alastor still considered her to be like a daughter to him, even if she royally fucked up the trust he had in her. She hadn’t meant to rid him of Lonbraj and she had never been one to lie. Maybe skirt and procrastinate around the truth but never lie outright. He should probably visit the hotel and apologize to her for blaming her entirely. The stag genuinely didn’t think her little revealing spell would have taken Lonbraj from him. Spells didn’t work like that, even if they had substituted and exchanged supplies for less effective materials that were meagerly related to the listed ones needed for the spell.
When Alastor had read the spell in the lobby after Angel had pointed it out, he had already made a mental list of what materials were itemized and what could have been used as a stand-in, but he needed the list of materials that were actually used when the spell was cast. Remaking the spell was one step in finding out who or what had been drawn to it and why they took Lonbraj. He needed that rug they had used. The candles were toast and, even with his magic, there was something about completely melted candles that he could never figure out how to reverse, as odd as that seemed. Once a candle was melted down to the last of the wick, he couldn’t revive it. He would need to buy or make new candles to replaced the finished ones. Fortunately, he could reverse the effects of burning the candle if it still had at least an inch of wick left. Why an inch? He could never figure it out. Maybe it had something to do with some sort of rule of law with the magic and physics of Hell?
‘Now is not the time to be thinking about why you can’t revive dead candles but can transform a pile of ash back into the book it had been prior to coming into contact with fire.’ Alastor ruminated, shrugging his coat on and sitting himself back on the edge of the bed with a smile.
“I might know where to start… Although, there are several places to begin, I am still unsure which path to take first. I have tombs that I have borrowed from Adine that I could burry myself in until I find something useful. I… I must speak with Charlotte at some point soon so I may better understand what happened that night. I have yet to go through my personal library or the one at the hotel, despite having already read everything in both places at least twice, there could still be some things I’ve missed or forgotten. I suppose I cannot move forward unless I choose what I would like to start with, even if some of them I would rather avoid having to do altogether…” He grumbled the last part, propping his leg up on the opposing one so he could lean his chin in his palm, elbow pressed against his knee.
“Well, you could always just start by reading. It sounds to me like you have quite the brain workout ahead of you, what with all the literature you need to read and reread! Do make sure to give yourself breaks and visit me when you do. I’ll take care of you, sweet bambi. Even if I can’t help you find him, I can always help with keeping you healthy so you have the strength to.” Rosie’s pretty lilac claws reached out to curl comfortingly around his wrist, running her thumb along the satin fabric that made up the cuff of his shirt. His vision blurred slightly just before he let himself flop down on his side and nuzzling his face against her arm as he blinked back tears.
“I will. Thank you, Rosie. I… I owe you, immensely. Do not let me go without fulfilling this debt to you.” He said firmly, brows scrunching and eyes narrowing as he looked back up at her. Rosie giggled, rolling her dark depths before leaning down to press another kiss to his brow.
“Oh don’t you worry your doey little head~! You owe me a broadcast, dinner, dancing, and a few picnics here and there whenever I’m feeling woodsy!” She laughed heartily, rolling onto her side to face him. The sound brought light giggles from the stag, reaching out to gently cup her cheek, despite staring at one another upside down.
“Don’t you mean marshy? My bayou is wetland, not some meager forest darling~” he teased, booping her nose with a cheeky grin. Her eyes roll again and she just grinned, teeth sharp and glinting in the lamp light.
“Oh hush. I know. But your marsh still has trees and trees are made of wood, therefoooore~, woodsy~!” she chirped, singsong in pitch and giving him a little bit of jazz hands. It was his turn to roll his eyes, smile genuine before he removing his hand from her cheek so he could stretch his arms over his head, a yawn leaving his lips involuntarily. Another giggle from the woman and he rolled onto his side and sat up.
“Yes, yes. Technically, you are correct.” He teased right back, stretching his legs out in front of him with a satisfied hum.
“I hate to cut our visit short, but I should really be going. Books cannot read themselves and, even if they could, I still prefer to be the one doing the reading.” Rosie near choked on her laughter as it bubbled out of her.
“Oh you jest! Damn near fourteen hours is no short visit darling! We had three whole meals together, for Lucifer’s sake!” She hollered, unable to slow her giggling. The auditory appendages on his head twitched at the sound before relaxing, a tender smile spread along his lips as he took in the rich sound of her voice. He sighed again, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, receiving one on his cheek in return, before standing and heading towards the door.
“It was a pleasure, as always, spending the day with you, dear. I will see you soon and speak with you sooner. You are always welcome to the bayou or the tower, whichever you prefer, if you wish to leave the emporium for once. Just give me a ring on the radio and I will open a portal for you to visit.” For emphasis, he gave a small wave to the radio on her vanity. It clicked on and a song from much more recent times, nineteen ninety two to be exact, wafted through the radio as he stepped through the door. The song was a recording of more recently than that, a woman’s voice resonating with the soft confident sensuality of the ukulele and the dreaminess of the piano.
It’s you I like.
Not the things you wear.
Not the way you do your hair,
But it’s you I like.
The way you are right now,
Way down deep inside you.
Not the things that hide you.
Not your toys, they’re just beside you.
‘Cause it’s you I like.
Every part of you.
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings,
Whether old or new.
Hope you will remember,
Even when you’re feeling blue;
It’s you I like.
It’s you, yourself;
It’s you.
It’s you I like.
He hummed quietly along with the song, all up until it ended and the piano faded out to nothing. Alastor chanced one more glance at the woman on the bed, hand pressed to her heart and a tender affectionate look on her face. It made him want to stay and cuddle for the rest of the night but he had to start on his search for Lonbraj. He couldn’t continue to procrastinate any longer.
“You take care, my sweet bambi! You better call me when you find anything!” She giggled, waving him off and wiping a tear from her eyes after he’d closed the door. A quick portal back to the bayou has him standing in the middle of the hallway outside his bedroom. It startled him, stepping back and bumping into the door when the portrait of his mother showed up in front of him instead of his lounge in the library. This isn’t where he wanted to go! He needed to start on his reading!
With a soft huff through his nose, he teleported again, but instead of the library like he wanted, he was now inside his room and in a pair of pajamas while standing mere feet away from the bed he was facing. His gaze followed the faintest of shadowy wisps as it skirt across the satin grey comforter, dragging the corner back a foot or two from the edge to expose the obsidian fitted sheet underneath before disappearing. An audible gasp and a startled step back had tears burst to his eyes.
“L-Lonbraj?!” Alastor’s voice caught in his throat, his vision shading the slightest bit when something draped over his eyes and a featherlight touch brushing tenderly across his cheek bone for a split second had a sob ripping from his lips.
“D-don’t leave-!” Alastor launched himself onto the bed in search of the shade when it darted backwards and disappeared before it hit the bed, lifting the blankets and tearing the sheets from the mattress.
“Please!” He all but snarled in desperation, dropping to his knees by the edge of the bed with another racking sob at his fruitless hunt. His claws grip the edge of the mattress at the hollowing pain ripping at his lungs and heart, tightening his esophagus painfully and forcing his body to tremble violently. The emptiness was back in full swing, ripping his mind from all the good that had happened that day and replacing it with the fact that Lonbraj was still gone.
‘You’re not gonna get him back if you aren’t at your best.’
Rosie’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, a shaky sob tumbling from his lips as he tried to focus on it. He forced it to repeat in his brain, replaying her words over and over to replace the darkening thoughts from before until he could breathe again and his eyes no longer dripped with his pain. He sat slumped against the edge of the bed, head pillowed in his arms and his rump on the floor, thighs together and hooves resting on either side of his hips. He briefly remembered being forced to sit on his knees to pray when he was alive and still a young, helplessly dependent child.
A sniffle and a wiggle of his ears, he lifted his head to look around the room and letting his gaze land on the rumpled and bunched blanket shoved to the end of the bed, spilling onto the floor from when he’d kicked it out of the way in search of the shadow. There was nothing, of course. No shaded silhouette, no abysmal outline, nothing to show that Alastor had a shadow in any sense of the word.
‘Rosie’s right. I’m not going to get mon ombre back unless I’m able to focus.’ With that thought, the stag climbed onto the bed and curled up in the middle, grabbing the pillow that his shade was known to use and yanking the blankets up to cocoon himself in. There was a few beats of silence after the stag grew comfortable in his blanket burrito until he flicked his eyes to the radio on the bedside table. He hesitated. Longer than he should have before letting out a sigh and flicking his head slightly to turn it on and switch it to a channel that played nothing but soft, soothing jazz. Surprisingly, he drifted off rather quickly and failed to notice any of the faint fizzles of static that buzzed behind the music every now and then, as if something or someone was trying to tune in from way too far away or maybe there was something blocking the signal?
.
.
.
.
.
.
A familiar chirping song woke the red clad stag from his slumber, ears twitching and eyes scrunching tighter while a groan rumbled from his throat. He didn’t want to wake up yet. He was still tired and he felt drained in every sense of the word. He didn’t think he could do this today…
‘You’re not gonna get him back if you aren’t at your best.’
Her words echoed in the forefront of his mind before flitting away. It was like a mantra at this point, playing and replaying whenever he was reluctant to move forward due to his unusually overzealous emotions. He supposed it was a nice change to the ever present boredom and the hollowing ache that seemed to seep every other emotion from his being, albeit fleeting excitement and glee at the suffering he could, has, and will continue to cause with his own bare hands. And maybe some magic. Definitely some magic. If only Lonbraj were here to enjoy these thoughts with him.
A heavy sigh and a few blinks to adjust to the light peaking through the curtains that fluttered in the gentle breeze wafting through the open window. Alastor watched the sparrow perched on the window sill that chirped along, pausing to listen for the returning call in the distance and answering it with enthusiasm. It brought an inkling of a smile to his lips. A raise in static brought his attention to the radio on his bedside table as the static fizzled out to a near silent buzz.
Alastor furrowed his brows before sitting up, reaching for the dated device and holding it close to his ears to get a better listen. The static from earlier raised in volume and something just barely audible came through the speaker in a garbled, glitched voice.
“…Alast-…”
The sound of his shadow’s voice had his heart jumping into overdrive and a heat blooming in his chest that he could only describe as hope, relief, something deeper. A delighted sob tumbled from his lips before he could help it and he turned the dial for the volume all the way up, dripping magic into the device to allow a better connection.
“I-I’m here darling! Please speak to me… Tell me where you are. What’s happened? Who took you from me?” His voice was hushed, barely able to contain his excitement despite how much it shook with the lump in his throat and tears beginning to slide down his cheeks to the blanket pooled in his lap. There was what sounded like channel flipping before the static rose angrily in volume then fizzling out some.
“…void… differe-… yours… tra-… figure… esca-… -eed… -ling sèf…” [C: deer] Even if it was all in English, he knew this was his dear Lonbraj. There was not a single being that could convince him otherwise.
“I hear you, my love… I will find a way to bring you back. I won’t allow them to keep you away from me longer than I can help it.” He traced his fingers over the intricate designs along the side, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to the top of the radio. His shadow was alive, or at least still existed and could likely be brought back to him. His tail was a blur behind him, holding the device tightly but not enough to cause any damage to it.
“… -ve you… -ou soon… can’t… losing… -trol I… -nd Adine… has… -rnal” And the radio gave a shrill but quiet squawk of feedback before fizzling out to a near silent hum.
“And I love you… but… What about Adine? What do they know? How can they help? Lonbraj, darling, please don’t leave yet. I don’t know what I’m doing! I-I… I need you here… I can’t do this without you…” His words started out strong but faded into quiet desperation. There was no reply. Just the subtle buzz of idly feedback from the device clutched in the overlord’s hands.
The bits of words Izarak spoke that Alastor could understand filtered through his mind, doing his best to piece them together in more comprehensible sentences and phrases. Regardless, he would need to speak with Adine very soon. They could be the key to finding which void the shade was in, where to look, what they would need, and so on. For the first time in his entire existence since he’d lost his mother, he had needed to rely entirely on someone else in his journey in finding the one being he didn’t think he could live long without.
Minutes stretched into hours as he sat there, thoughts racing and fingers tracing the swirls and roses and thorns that adorned the wood of the device in his hands, carved with precision and plenty of love. He’d spent days, weeks on it but he never bothered to hide what he had been working on from his ombre, even going as far as to ask his input on what he thought the radio could use to make it that much more beautiful. Alastor knew that, when Lonbraj had given him design ideas and a color palette, he’d been thinking about the stag when expressing his thoughts. The overlord hadn’t minded. If the shaded being wanted to be reminded of Alastor every time Lonbraj looked at the device, then he wouldn’t deny his precious shadow such a simple pleasure.
Lonbraj deserved that much after everything he’d been through and everything he’d done for Alastor.
“I suppose I should give Adine a ring, hmm?” Alastor’s head tilted, ears limp as they flopped to the side while he waited for a reply. Upon receiving nothing but silence, he waved a hand over the device and cleared his throat, green static and black smoke fizzling from the speaker for a moment.
“Hello? Adine, dear? Are you there? I apologize for interrupting anything but I must speak with you at your earliest convenience” He spoke clearly, voice gentle and inviting. There was a bang and some squeaks of what sounded like sneakers against a gym floor then an animalistic snarl before the ocelot’s voice came through.
“Oh Alastor! Hey man, um, can I get back to you in like-!” A yelp and another bang, more squeaks and snarls through the device from the other end. “Fuck, give me ten minutes. I’m kind of bussYYYyy-!” Their voice wavered comically at the end, like they had avoided a close call and couldn’t help the disturbance in their words.
“Of course, darling. If you are in any need of assistance, you know I am only a dial away. I will leave you to it then. Don’t die~!” He chirped.
“Thanks! I’ll be fine! Talk to you in a few!” There was a gravelly shriek and what sounded like the snapping of limbs, followed by a baritone scream. Alastor listened in for only a few more seconds to relish in the screams of pain before clicking the dial once to turn it off for now. He would wait until the other sinner was ready to talk and he would ask them if they could possibly meet up again. He had more information and, if his theory was correct, Adine would want to know that Lonbraj may be someone rather important to the ocelot.
Adine knew Lonbraj somehow and that was invigorating, his heart pounding in his chest as he leered at the radio still clutched in his claws. His finger followed the outline of a rose, losing himself in thought at the possibilities and the ’what if’s’.
“Alastor? You still there, buddy?” Their voice crackling through the speaker startled the overlord, shoulders jumping the slightest bit. Since when had he been one to flinch? He was the one and only Radio Demon. What was he afraid of? The boogeyman? He wasn’t afraid of anything! Well… he can admit to himself, at least, that he was deathly afraid of losing the shade for eternity.
But not a single soul could know about that.
“Yes, dear! I’m still here. Have you taken care of your troubles?” He asked, polite and curious as he sat the radio down in his lap.
“Oh yeah! Some giant slug guy tried to hit on me then had the balls to tell me I’m the slut? Bro, you literally just asked me for head. Right after being rejected by, like, four other sinners. So I fought the asshole and ate him. I only give head to people I like, know, and when I’m the one offering.” Adine’s irritation was evident in their voice, lifting to emphasize on certain words and growling out others.
“I see. Well, I hope their flesh was tastier than their words. If not, I can offer you a meal if your appetite isn’t spoiled!” He chuckled a little, hearing a giggle from their end. “I do hope to meet with you in person at your earliest convenience, dear. I have some important news from Lonbraj that you may want to hear, in person.”
“Hmm. Alright. Yeah, we can meet soon. Let me just…” There was quiet feedback as they went silent, likely checking their phone for their schedule, he presumed. “I’m free on Friday if you want to meet then? That’s only two days but if it’s urgent, I can move some shit around?”
“Lonbraj mentioned you and the void.” More silence.
“Where can I meet you? Don’t bother with a meal but I won’t say no to one if you do make something.”
“I will send you the address.”
“How are you gonna-!?” They were cut off by a ping from their phone, an unknown number had sent them coordinates. They hadn’t exchanged any sort of phone number.
“I hope to see you soon, dear. Do let yourself in when you arrive. I’ve already set the wards to recognize your presence as a friend.”
“Shit. Thanks Alastor. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Splendid. Take care. Ta ta!” He cut the radio off with a sigh, climbing out of bed to get himself ready for his guest and to start on something for the both of them to eat as his stomach growled angrily. Oh right. He needed to eat.
‘Time for your first house guest. Aside from Rosie. She’s more family than anything else.’ Alastor thought as he waved a hand to gather clothes and Lonbraj’s radio with his tendrils to carry to the bathroom. A little music and the comfort of having a communication device readily available to being able to speak with his shadow had his heart fluttering in giddy excitement. He couldn’t wait to see his ombre again.
Notes:
This is what Lonbraj was trying to say to Alastor through the radio:
“Alastor”
“I’m in the void but it’s different than yours. I’m trapped and I gotta figure out how to escape. I need to see you, my darling sèf [C: deer]…“
“I love you. I will see you soon. I can’t keep this up for long. I’m losing control of the connection. I need you to find Adine. She has my conjuring journal.”
Chapter 3: Even If He’s Forgotten Everything, He’ll Always Remember Me
Summary:
His gaze is unwavering, daring them to say something, do something that would make it obvious how much he was actually hurting and the facade he put up to mask it. Their expression turned curious, cautious, compassionate. Maybe a bit confused. A lot of Cs, that one. Adine stood, brushed off their clothing and tediously made their way over to the stag, tail low and the tip curled inward between their ankles.
“I am not angry, if that is what you’re afraid of, dear.” Alastor kept his tone slightly guarded yet still allowed for a relaxed and easy mood to surface.
“I’m not afraid. I just… I’m sorry I didn’t ask first. I just couldn’t stop myself. The energy here was so painful…” And they dared. They breathed the last word, as if feeling the phantom pains of the aura of Alastor’s suffering.
Notes:
Hiya everyone!!
I know! I know 3: it’s been well over a month since I’ve posted anything. Tbh, it’s been a long month at work and cleaning my apartment is tedious with executive dysfunction.
Nonetheless, I was able to find time to squeeze this out and I’m still not sure if I’m happy with it. If I end up hating it, I’ll rewrite and repost it. No biggy.
I hope you all enjoy this! A little bit more into Alastor’s head and we see Adine and Alastor’s dynamic. This will likely be how they interact but it’ll get easier for them to understand each other over time. Alastor’s a hardheaded prick, we all know this, but he likes Adine and he wants to form a bond with them to at the very least make Lonbraj happy. Adine just wants to help and see their dad again.
If I missed any translations, please let me know. I only did a quick beta read through so I can finally get this out there.
Thank you all for reading my stories and interacting! I love y’all <3 <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Waiting was always the worst part about inviting someone over. Especially when he never invites people to his bayou. But, considering the only way into his sanctuary was through his own magic, he still felt secure allowing the ocelot entry into his safe haven.
Admittedly, Alastor had invited Adine to one of his radio towers far from the city, tucked away in the outskirts of the Pride Ring in one of the forested areas. He’d be able to tell the moment they stepped into the woods, about how long it would be until they would reach the tower and, in turn, the portal he’d manifested into the front door. The wards would allow only Adine to open the door and step through but anyone else who tried would be shredded into nothing more than a puddle of blood and guts and bones on the front step.
The interval of time between gathering things around the bayou, tidying it up to make it more presentable for guests and listening for the telltale signs of the ocelot’s arrival had the stag’s anxiety through the roof. Lonbraj and Rosie were the only beings in existence to ever see his mystical home and, despite finding trust in Adine, allowing them entry inside was a big enough event in and of itself.
He didn’t need any more stress on his plate. The damn thing was getting heavy enough with all the responsibilities that had been thrown his way over the past seven years. His mother would be proud of his ability to handle everything he does. She would be proud of him for how much growth he’s gone through, emotionally and socially, over the last year at the hotel. The woman would fawn over him for finding a partner, for finding love, and for allowing himself to be vulnerable with someone other than her.
Despite his blackened heart, she would be proud of him and the thought alone was enough to calm him. At least for the time being. At least until Adine had arrived.
He had an idea of what could happen when Adine showed up, what could be said, would be said, what he wanted to do while they were visiting. How much he would actually achieve during that time would be entirely up to fate at this point. He couldn’t will himself to spend the energy preparing himself for every little thing that could happen during Adine’s stay, regardless of whether that stay was short or extended into the late evening.
And when they so very politely knocked before stepping through the front door to his home, Alastor’s nerves were damn near bleeding from his fingertips. He put up a good facade, though, he wouldn’t be surprised if they could simply smell the stress seeping off of him in waves. If they had noticed, they hadn’t brought it up, to which he was thankful.
It had been just after noon when Adine showed up and Alastor had swept them into his large study where he’d pushed the furniture to the walls and set up a mattress made of pillows and blankets on the floor by his desk. Lonbraj’s radio and the stacks upon stacks of books he’d gathered from the library, a smaller stack close by of the ones he’d borrowed from Adine, sat off to one side of the nest of softness. His coffee table had an array of snacks of both meaty and normal varieties as well as drinks of different kinds, a bottle each of his best wine and whiskey in the mix.
Alastor was the epitome of a delightful host, ensuring Adine was comfortable, fed, their thirst quenched, and he was never short on entertainment, but that would come later. They had important things to attend to before they could relax and take a breather. Lonbraj had somehow been able to contact him and it was imperative Adine knew. In especial to the fact that the shade had asked for the ocelot in particular. It had puzzled him but he hadn’t questioned his eternal companion.
He knew he was a great host. He knew what was expected of him when it came to having guests. He would meet just about every need, whether it be for friendship or manipulation was entirely up to who he was meeting and where. Even if the event was for manipulation, he would still uphold his manners. He’s always done such and he had his mother to thank for teaching him those civilities. He caught himself thinking about his mother a lot more lately and, upon realizing the date, he chalked it up to what would be her upcoming birthday. He would need to celebrate, alone, obviously. Maybe have some of her favorite wine, listen to her favorite music, partake in some of her favorite hobbies.
Maybe he could visit Rosie or invite Adine over if it grew too lonely. But only if their visit was successful.
And boy was it successful, despite the few hiccups along the way.
Alastor was able to speak with his Lonbraj again, finally, after what felt like ages! His voice had been everything he remembered and more. The shade hadn’t been limited to speaking Creole despite his preference to the language and the simple sound of his voice, so clear and low and smooth when it resonated against the soft hairs on the insides of his ears. Lonbraj’s words, however innocent in context, had sent shivers down his spine. So much so that he’d nearly dropped the radio he’d been holding and embarrassed himself further in front of the ocelot. They hadn’t commented nor did they allude to knowing what he had been feeling when he’d cursed softly and fumbled the radio over to them. Just in time for Adine to have reached over and snatched it from his hands anyway. He hadn’t complained nor reprimanded them politely on their crass behavior. He wasn’t one to judge, especially not with how hard it had been to cool his heated face.
The shade had filled them in on his position, his state of mind and what he was dealing with. And, if Alastor had anything to say about it, it sounded rather peaceful, albeit tedious with the flood of forced remembrance. He wouldn’t deny the shade’s experiences. They were valid in their own sense, special to the abysmal being in a way no one else will truly understand.
Alastor had learned that his shade was, in fact, a soul of his own, having likely lived the life of a sinner while alive and sent to hell for his wrongdoings. Despite all this, Adine was Lonbraj’s child. His shade had a wife and a child while alive and likely lived a fulfilling life at that if his kid was anything to go by. Adine was bright, frilly around the edges with thorns hidden in the velvety folds of their personality. They were sweet, hopeful, ambitious, seeming to thrive off of the very thought of existence itself. They didn’t seem to have any doubts about themself or what they wanted in their afterlife. The ocelot couldn’t have possibly grown this easygoing, yet statistically cautious without the proper guidance.
Or maybe they hadn’t any guidance at all, anyone to show them the way to the delightful person they were now?
He still had so many questions after the communications through the radio with his eternal company. So many things he wanted to ask and to be answered. Some he didn’t think could be answered. At least, not yet. Or maybe not at all. He couldn’t be sure and he absolutely hated the feeling of unease that came with the uncertainty.
And Jeremy? Where could he even start? The thought of Lanbraj having a wife was understandable. Having a child with said wife was a natural progression of that relationship and he felt no ill feelings towards the woman, whoever she may have been or currently is. He had no qualms with her and he prided himself slightly on the thought but Jeremy? The name brought boiling rage licking at his diaphragm. His shade had said the man was him! That Alastor was a reincarnation of said man and not the original owner of his soul! The audacity!
What made it all worse was the green eyed crypt that began filling his mind with ways to wipe the man from his shade’s thoughts once and for all. The urge burned him down to his very core.
He knew he was irrational. His love (is that what that feeling truly was?) for Lonbraj and his undying obsession with making sure what was his stayed that way proved as much. It was an unhealthy way to think. He knew that. He did not give enough of a damn to care.
He couldn’t care less about whether reincarnation was real or not. It was preposterous to think Alastor was given the gift of being reincarnated! Positively inane. To believe he was worthy of such a divine and forgiving and loving and holy gift would be grounds for potential labeling of brain dead. Or severally damaged at the very least. Alastor wasn’t deserving of something so out of reach. He wasn’t worthy of such a blessing.
When he and Adine had gone through the shade’s journal together and noted in Alastor’s notepad what they thought would be helpful (along with anything he found interesting), they’d already been pushing the visit well into the evening. It was growing darker outside and Alastor could feel exhaustion pulling at his bones.
“Adine, dear, how are you coming along?” He’d asked after having sat his own large tomb down in his lap and stretched his arms over his head, yawning lightly. There was silence that followed and, when he hadn’t gotten a reply, he turned to look at the ocelot that had been lounging on the couch. A book lay draped along their torso, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as they breathed shallowly with sleep. A smile graced his lips and he couldn’t help but feel that same warmth in his chest he felt when he would watch Charlie achieve something she’d be working hard for.
With a quiet sigh and a flick of his wrist, the books they’d both been holding were saved with bookmarks and closed to be added to the pile of ‘started but not finished’. Adine had a habit of starting a book, then stopping halfway through because it was boring or they hadn’t found anything remotely useful. Alastor didn’t mind finishing what they hadn’t. It didn’t hurt to go through the pieces of literature more than a few times.
A huff and a lift of his knees, hooves planted flat on the blankets, Alastor climbed to his feet from the floor, using the chair he’d been resting against as leverage to hoist himself up. Another wave of his hand and a blanket appeared to flutter down and cover the feline, a pillow inflating under their head to cushion it. The radio in the corner turned down the music, softer now and far more suitable for sleep.
On the coffee table that had been pushed close to the connected half bath, he left a note stating that breakfast would be at nine but he would leave any leftovers in the fridge for them if they slept in. They were welcome to any of the rooms in the manor if they happened to wake up far too early and wish for somewhere more comfortable to sleep so long as they were respectful of his belongings. If they needed him, he would hear them through the radio with a simple call of his name. Placing the note folded to catch the eye and their name scrawled in pretty swirling letters, he left silently and headed to his room for sleep.
Upon crawling into bed, clad in his silken pajamas with his monocle and staff tucked safely away in his pocket dimension, he grabbed Lonbraj’s radio and held it close against his chest. His cheek rested on the pointed top, eyes closed as he laid there. The sheets were soft against the small bits of exposed skin along his hands, wrists, hooves, ankles and his cheek, bringing a soft hum from his lips.
Keeping his eyes shut, Alastor pushed his magic into the radio with some attempts at dialing into a clearer signal.
“Mon cherí? Lonbraj? Are you there, my dearest?” [F: My dear] The stag’s voice was just above a whisper, eyes opening and lifting his head to stare at the metal grating of the speaker, willing everything in him for his shadow to speak. Static was his only answer, feedback buzzing quietly but ultimately, Izarak did not speak.
With a heavy sigh, he retracted his magic and settled the radio on the side table once more. He stared at the device for a while, gaze tracing the roses and remembering every stroke with the carving tools he’d used. He remembered the sting in his palms after spending hours at his workbench, remembered Lonbraj pulling him away for a break when he’d wince with each push of the knife. He remembered the coffee his shade would bring him, the venison bites it would feed him when he was too distracted to eat. He remembered the beignets he’d find in place of a tool he’d been reaching for.
Alastor rolled onto his back with a turn of his gaze, eyes fixated on a shadow on the ceiling that vaguely resembled the shape of Lonbraj if he really squinted.
This… definitely wasn’t helping.
He debated for a moment on whether he should go back to his office where Adine was still sleeping but shook the thought from his mind pretty quickly. It was a ridiculous notion to want to find comfort in a stranger. Especially someone he’d just met that day.
But he didn’t want to be alone right now and Adine was his shadow’s child. Although Alastor knew that being related to someone doesn’t make them trustworthy, the ocelot had been nothing but helpful and, admittedly, comforting company. They had been respectful in a way no one in Hell or Earth, excluding Lonbraj, had ever been and without even being told. They had been sure to ask before they touched him, in a way that hadn’t been awkward, annoying, or embarrassing.
The thought rolls around in his head for a while, the debate on both sides losing in his opinion. A sigh slipped from his lips once more before he’s rolling out of bed, grabbing the device off the table and heading out of the room for a walk instead. He had the radio so if Lonbraj was able to talk, he would have it.
Clip clip clip clip.
The sound of his hooves echoed back to him, caroming off the walls and settling a feeling of unease in his chest. It wasn’t that he was alone nor was it the silence that had these feelings brewing in his mind and being. It was the uncertainty that came with trusting new people. The uncertainty that came with the loss of his shadow. The uncertainty that he was even enough to get him back.
Alastor’s powers weren’t like they used to be. His deal with the queen of hell had them under wraps, unable to grow any larger, peaking at a certain point so he couldn’t have the ability to overthrow her or Lucifer. It’s not that he had plans to. At least, none set in stone.
And, with how well his relationships had been going with the hotel’s patrons and staff, he was reluctant to go through with any of those plans. As much as the King himself ground his gears, the man had brought Charlie a little more joy in her life and for that, he was, dare say, grateful for the ex-angel’s presence every now and then at the hotel.
If for nothing else, it gave him a break from the overbearingly cheery princess and time to catch up on some reading or visit Rosie or even just go on a walk to unwind.
Now, he walked the halls of his manor, keratin toes clacking lightly with each step. Despite his earlier debate with himself on leaving the ocelot alone to sleep, he’d ended up in front of the study they were currently resting in. He stood in front of the door for a few long moments, lost in thought, before his eyes blinked to focus and he came to realize where he’d ended up. He still thought it best to leave them alone. He hadn’t a clue on how tiring their day may have been prior to coming over and who was he to disturb their sleep?
A heavy sigh, yet again, and a hand through his hair, Alastor turned and headed down the hall to continue his wandering. He felt pathetic. This had to be the lowest he’s ever been, the lowest he’s ever felt. Even the near-death fight with Adam hadn’t left him feeling this weak and broken. The loss of his mother still hurt to this day but not nearly as much, not nearly in the same way.
When she had been killed, Alastor had felt a hole in his chest, similar to how he’d felt with Lonbraj but it hadn’t felt hollow. It hadn’t felt empty and void of anything. Not that he didn’t feel like he’d lost apart of himself that day, but that feeling had faded. When he thought about her, he yearned to see her, to take in her scent, hold her in his arms, hear her beautiful voice, and finally taste her homemade cooking again. But he knew that she was happy where she was. Heaven was to be her home in the afterlife and he wouldn’t have it any other way. She deserved it and he would never wish for her fall.
He missed her and wished he could see her but he was happy that she couldn’t see him like this. She deserved a better son, someone who hadn’t chosen the path he had. Someone who had followed in her footsteps regardless of the abuse and the bullying and the absolute insanity that was his life.
Alastor clutched the radio tighter to his chest as he descended an elegant stairwell, rails swirling with reds and golds and deep obsidian. Despite his home looking like it had come straight out of the 1920s, the color palette gave every room a cautious aura. The shades of colors had him settling into a state of calm, placate sadness. Something he hadn’t truly felt in over a century. He’d felt sadness when his mother passed but never since.
Pushing open the large doors out to the front yard, he heaved another long breath, already feeling the pin pricks of tears in the corners of his eyes as the soothing breeze gusted past him. His hair and ears ruffle, his natural curls teasing at the obsidian of his hair from the dampness in the air. He doesn’t mind. Not right now.
Step by step, Alastor made his way through the garden, past the fence and into the woods towards his favorite clearing where he would normally spend a lot of his time if he happened to be relaxing outside in his bayou. He walked slow and was conscious of where his every step was placed regardless of having made this trip a million times and moreso over the near century he’d been in Hell.
Upon stepping past the tree he used to shed his antlers during rut every year, Alastor immediately noticed that the moss and foliage was dead. His heart clenched in his chest, eyes darting around the small clearing but seeing nothing out of place otherwise. He stepped out onto a patch of moss and the feel of the plant had him pause, brows furrowing in confusion. Leaning down, he reached a hand out and ran it along the dead looking moss only to find it perfectly healthy. He’d never seen anything like it.
It wasn’t even a moment later when he thought of something Izarak had said earlier about the place he was in. Was this what it looked like? Was the foliage this shriveled where the shade was? No wonder he’d said the place was kind of dreary. But the plants only looked dead. They still bloomed with life, still soft and plump to the touch. Alastor settled down on a darker patch of moss, fingers carding over the soft plant as he slumped onto his side and closed his eyes.
This was entirely unfair. Ever since he’d made that fucking deal with Lilith, his afterlife had gone downhill. He’d lost a good bit of his power, his reputation, his dignity, and his shadow. What more could they take from him? What more was he going to lose in his future? Would he lose his title next? His power entirely? His life?
He knew he wouldn’t get a third chance. Reincarnation only worked once, if it worked at all, and Alastor had, apparently, already used his second chance. Not that he really cared but getting the opportunity to live life over again, regardless of the reason, was a once in an existence opportunity and Alastor fucked it up. He fucked up his chance at a second life and now? Now he’s paying for it. Especially so without his shadow.
Who would have thought that the lack of a shadow would be so painful?
Which was odd, in his opinion. Shadows were a result of an object blocking a light source, casting a dark silhouette where the light couldn’t reach. How, pray tell, could an individual experience so much suffering from being unable to cast a shadow?
He could debate with himself on the why and the how but what would he really achieve in finding the answer to that? Sure, he’d have the answer but that didn’t solve anything. Would he even find an answer to begin with? Lonbraj was still trapped and separated from him and he had nothing to show for his progress. They’d been able to talk to one another again but he still wasn’t here with him. Izarak wasn’t there to hold him or kiss him or make love to him. He wasn’t there to cuddle with, to hear sing and speak, to intimidate and scare patrons with. He wasn’t there to simply be with him.
Rolling onto his back with his arms spread to his sides and the radio resting mere inches from him, Alastor stared up at the artificial stars glowing in the night sky. The moon shone high above the trees, peaking beams of light through the branches and leaves to illuminate the foliage around him. Tears well up in his eyes once more and, in result, Alastor threw his hands to his hair to grip tightly with a gut wrenching, screaming snarl.
Not even a moment later is he growing into his more demonic form and crashing a large hand down on a pile of greying bushes. They flatten instantly, thick stalks of support snapping and rendered to pancakes against the moss. A swipe of his other arm as he threw himself up onto all fours leveled a number of trees, some completely severed in half while other’s splintered and broken at angry ninety or so degrees.
Dirt and moss and grass were kicked up and flung as he moved, snarling, raring with rage and hurt as he mutilated his spot. When he’d finally come back to his senses, body shrinking and limbs snapping back into place. His clothes were rumpled and ripped in some places but the only thing he could focus on was the destruction and death of the plant life around him, panting with exertion and wide eyed with uncertainty.
In retrospect, after he’d been able to scream and cry and tear apart the clearing he so dearly loved, he regretted the outburst for a number of reasons. The main two was, what used to be his small sanctuary inside of his safe haven, now lay destroyed before him and the second likely awake due to his loud tantrum. The trees around him were either ripped in half or hanging half-severed by splintering shards of wood. The moss and grass and underbrush were flattened and torn to shreds with patches of dirty and mud taking up several places. The clearing was no longer the calm, serene, and peaceful sanctuary it had been when he’d gotten there. It looked like a battlefield and, in a way, it had been.
Alastor dropped to the ground, face in his hands and ears back as he shook. He did not want to cry. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He was tired of the tears, the sorrow, the pain, the longing, the heartache. He was tired of defending what was his, tired of the fight, tired of the discord, tired of his warnings and threats being ignored.
Things would change, that was for sure. The moment he got his Lonbraj back, they would start with getting his soul back from that wretched first woman. Then, he would off any and every sinner who opposed him. He would swallow them whole for all of Hell to hear. He would no longer be known as some radio demon. He would be notorious as the cruel, ever ruling overlord, Alastor, The Radio Demon once more. He craved to be feared like he once had but… he may have been going soft.
These emotions confused him, enraged him, terrified him even. Everything that had happened so far in his existence felt as if the events were boiling over and muddling his mind to mush. Maybe he’d bottled everything up. Everything unpleasant, depraved, and downright traumatizing felt as if they were all coming to a head. He felt utterly and truly broken. He didn’t feel like himself anymore. Nothing felt right and the world he knew seemed to be ending faster than he was ready for.
Everything he had built and worked for with his bare hands (and a little bit of magic) was slipping through his fingers, stolen slowly but surely from him by an unknown, older-than-time-itself, hidden entity. Its sole purpose seemed to be ruining the stag’s life and afterlife, taking everything he genuinely loved and cared for just to see him suffer.
What had he done to deserve such a terrible fate? What deity had he angered enough to force him into this situation? He hadn’t called on any since he’d been alive, intentionally or not, and that was well before his death for an unrelated favor. He’d done his part to pay back the favor and he had done so with splendor. He’d never been one to cheap out when it came to gifts of gratitude for the higher powers and not just due to the fact that he was a kiss ass when he was alive. It was his way of showing he had been genuinely grateful of their help in achieving his goals and he wanted to make known his appreciation.
Therefore, should a deity have a problem with him, it couldn’t have been from his own doing. Someone else must have… was it his father? Had his father sent a deity after him? But he was dead, dead. There was no way that sniveling, slimy, wasted bastard of a human soul was existing.
But what about the void? There were sectors that Adine had mentions and explained in great length, some looked the same as his own and others had a place at the center that, well, beings and deities existed in more ways than just a thought or a mass of spread matter. They’d told him of the deities to be wary of, the ones to allow with helping, and others to avoid all together, some he recognized and others he’d never heard of.
His father could be hiding in one of the vast expanses of nothingness if his soul hadn’t been torn to shreds by exterminators. Maybe he hadn’t. He could be waiting for the right time to strike, the right time to make himself known, the right time to torture the stag once more. Alastor couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let that man ruin everything he’d built once more. He couldn’t let his father back into his life for any reason.
He couldn’t let that happen.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Ally cat?” Alastor’s head spun around a whole one-eighty, neck snapping, grin wide and cheerful when the ocelot trudged into the kitchen, fur mused and messy and eyes still droopy with slumber. Their skirt was wrinkly and the blouse they’d worn was twisted some around their middle, stretching the material tight and uncomfortably across their chest.
“Good morning, darling! Please, have a seat. I am making breakfast now so it should be done rather soon. Coffee? Tea? Juice?” He asked, his body turning around to realign with his head.
“Uh… coffee’s fine. Do you have caramel I can put it in? Can’t take it without.” They chimed, settling down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. They spin the bottom hem of their shirt around so it lay more comfortably, brushing out a few creases in the fabric. If Adine had heard his heartbreak that morning, they hadn’t mentioned it.
“Of course, dear. As I said yesterday, do make yourself at home. You are a welcomed guest. No need for you to feel uncomfortable.” He stated, flicking a hand to wave a mug from the cupboard and pour a cup of joe for the other sinner. It landed softly in front of Adine with a quiet thunk and, moments later, a small glass candy holder of softened, meltable caramel squares settled beside the mug along with another of sugar and a small pitcher of cream. The magic surrounding the objects dissipated the moment they were safely sat on the table.
“Shit, thanks man. Are these what I think they are?” Adine asked, eyes widening as the plucked two squares from the top and tossed one in their mouth with a delighted hum. The other was dropped into the steaming drink to dissolve.
“If you’re speaking about homemade caramels of my own recipe then yes, they certainly are.” Adine only snickered lightly and their grin widened, popping another candy in their mouth and another in their coffee.
“Thank fuck I’m getting all friendly with a younger guy. Kinda worth it with all these future delicacies.” They teased, pearly fangs stained the slightest with the candies.
“Oh hush you.” Alastor laughed, snatching a candy to toss and catch in his mouth before taking a sip of his own coffee.
“Nah. You don’t own me, dad.” Their grin turned devious and Alastor had to pause, taken aback and surprised by their blatant disregard for the fact that he wasn’t actually their parent.
“Hmm… I cannot say I hate the notion of being known as a father, however figurative, but I would certainly wait to see what your real father has to say about it.” He teased back, knowing how contradictory his words are considering he hadn’t bothered with asking Lucifer if it was alright with him taking his place. Or at least take up the position of Charlotte’s second parent, even if he had no plans to ever form a relationship outside of possibly friendship at most with the King.
“Whatever. You’ve done nothing but act like one since I’ve met you and it’s weird. Not bad weird! Seriously just… I’m not used to it after almost two centuries without. It’s kinda nice…” Adine’s words trailed off, eyes looking far off as they seemed to remember something. Alastor gave them their moment, waiting patiently for recognition to come back to their expression.
Once Adine’s eyes flicked up to meet his, he held a small, welcoming smile on his lips.
“I take no offense, dear. It would certainly unsettle myself if someone came into my life acting as a mother figure right off the bat. However, I couldn’t relate to having a caring or loving father figure in the slightest…” Alastor mumbled out the last statement and turned back to the stove, pushing the eggs around the pan to keep them from burning. The sausages continued to sizzle along in the pan beside the eggs, popping every now and then at a particularly hot spark of oil.
Silence followed for a few long minutes.
“Did your father beat you?” Adine’s voice was quiet, airy, as if they were scared to even ask the question. Alastor paused to stare at the eggs as they started to brown slightly before removing them from the pan.
“Yes.” Was his only answer, tone unwavering yet cautious.
“Did he…” They didn’t need to finish their sentence even if they could bring themself to do so.
“Yes…” His hand shook slightly as he flipped the sausage, the telltale signs of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He was glad he wasn’t facing them.
“I’m so sorry...” Their voice was hushed, as if speaking too loud would be detrimental to Alastor’s mental state.
“It was me or my mother for the beatings. As for the rest… I… well I don’t know…” Why was he still talking? This wasn’t a subject he spoke about with anyone. His shade experienced everything beside him so there was no speaking to be done about it.
“Al…” He hadn’t turned back to Adine but he held a hand up to silence them, eyes closed and doing everything he could to keep his breathing even. If his hand shook, he didn’t notice this time.
“You do not need to coddle me, dear. I have come to terms with the early events of my life above. I do not need the pity.” He nearly snarled out the last word, spitting it out like venom and swallowing down the growl that was threatening to build in his chest.
Their silence spoke of their uncertainty with what to say next and Alastor allowed them the reprieve while he lifted the sausage onto the plate beside the eggs, their claws tapping on the table quietly.
“It’s just…”
“Adine, please!” He hadn’t needed to say more, the static and feedback rolling over his words had them snapping their lips shut, head ducking to stare at the contents of their mug. Alastor relished in the silence, turning after a few long moments to recollect himself while he dished out a plate of food for them.
“I apologize for my outburst. I simply wish to speak about this subject no more.” He spoke with light, soft defeat in his tone. He hated the look they gave him, apologetic, full of pity, and something akin to affection swelling in their green and pink eyes. Without really thinking about it, he reached out and ruffled their curls gently, settling the plate down in front of them. It had them squeezing their eyes shut, a startled mrow tumbling from their maw from the sudden touch.
“Really, dear. Don’t look at me like that. I may take you in as my fawn and never let you go.” He teased, scritching over one of their ears with affection before letting go.
Adine’s expression changed, morphing into embarrassment and maybe mirrored affection. Their frown turned upwards, lips curving into a small smile as they leaned into the touch and an actual purr rumbled in their chest. He couldn’t help but notice the way the end of their tail swayed back and forth with the attention.
“I wouldn’t mind, even if I am damn near a century older than you.” Adine’s expression turned into a playful grin, eyes closed as they tilted their head to nuzzle into the hand just before it was pulled away.
“I’m sure you would. Now eat your breakfast and make up your mind on your plans for the day. You may stay here, if you’d like, but I’m sure you have plenty of things to do today.” Adine hummed, tail curling around them as they shrugged.
“I don’t. Not really but I’ll get out of your ears after breakfast. I don’t want to take up all your time and overstay my welcome.” They dug into the simple breakfast he’d barely had the energy to make but he was glad they were eating, even if it were his own instincts telling him to feed his mate’s young.
His mate…
Did he really consider Lonbraj his mate? Of course he did. The shade was everything to him a mate was and more. The abysmal being cared for him, consoled him when he needed it, protected him, defended him, given him everything he’s ever asked for within its power, and so much more.
“It’s not a problem, my dear. You needn’t worry about such things. You are welcome as long as you wish to stay.” Adine smiled at his words, a hand brushing through their hair.
“If you say so. I wouldn’t even really know what to do here.” A laugh and Alastor waved his hand dismissively.
“There’s plenty to do! There’s a whole bayou to explore and many, many different species of wildlife I’m sure you’ve never seen before.” Their eyes shot up from their breakfast to study him before a hum rumbled in their throat.
“You know what, fuck it. I’m staying. Don’t expect to see me anytime soon though because I might spend a week out there trying to find any and every single animal and bug and plant there is to discover.” The statement earns a hooted laugh from the stag, turning back to the stove to clean up the mess from breakfast. He’d already made his own, despite having spent little time preparing the rotting, bloody deer before devouring it in very few bites.
“Knock yourself out. I will be in the study or library if you need me. The kitchen is open if you wish to raid it later for lunch or dinner. I will let you know when I am going out but you are free to come and go as you please. The portal will be open to you for whenever you wish to use it. No need to tell me when you’re leaving. I will know.” Adine only nodded, the sound of them eating filling the room while Alastor stepped over to the coffee pot to pour himself another. He sipped it black, a sound of pleasant contentment vibrating his vocal cords at the bitter taste.
“Thanks. Honestly, I didn’t expect to make a friend and an ally out of the Radio Demon. I mean, who can say they’d been able to get this damn close? I mean, not that I care. I really don’t but I can’t help but feel a little smug, ya know? Like, how many people have you actually invited over here? No one? One? Two people maybe? Probably that cannibal overlord, Rose was it? Or no… Rosie. That’s it, right? I heard she’s real sweet. Wonder if she swings both ways…” That last bit seemed to be their own inner thoughts playing from their tongue without their meaning to.
“Very few can say they’ve been inside my radio towers and even fewer can say they’ve seen my home. Rosie is correct. Do not, under any circumstance, call her Rose. She’s single and widowed by her own hand, dear. For as long as I’ve known the woman, she hasn’t seemed to care much for a particular gender or sex or what have you. She’s a feisty one, for sure. She may even decide to have you as a literal meal, though I’m sure you wouldn’t want to risk that, would you?” He teased, stepping over to the table and sitting down across from the ocelot. Adine had brought their mug to their lips to sip at their coffee much like Alastor had.
“Rosie, got it. Ha! Feisty? I like ‘em that way. The feistier the better, I always say. Gives you more of a challenge, don’t you think?” They gave him a pointed look, like he would know exactly what they meant. And Alastor knew. Lonbraj was, without a doubt, a feisty one, or was it himself? No, no. Certainly it was his companion. Yes, it had to be.
“Haha! Why yes dear. It certainly does!” Adine grinned at that, placing their fork down on the empty plate once they’d finished. Their expression changed, shifting into something thoughtful, more curious.
“I wonder if my magic works here…” Without waiting for an answer that, yes, it definitely does still work, Adine had swung a hand down in front of them from their chest down, their outfit changing to something a little more masculine, a little more along Alastor’s line of dress but far too casual for him to attempt to copy. Not that he would. He had a style he preferred and he liked to stick to it.
Their matte baby blue skirt and pretty floral pink blouse morphed into a baggy button up and a pair of slacks. The top had been undone to the third button to show the top line of their cleavage, something he hadn’t dwelled upon because why would he? The top was a deep brown, almost shiny in texture tucked into a pair of eggshell white slacks with what looked like a very soft and comfortable material, contrasting nicely with their fur coloring and patterns.
Adine had swiped a hand up through their hair, slicking it back stylishly and it stayed with a small dash of burgundy sparkles adorning their crown. The stag made a face at the glitter, ears tilting back ever so slightly in his distaste for the material.
“Hey, ti sèf. [C: little deer] Relax. It’s not gonna get on your floors or any of your furniture. It’s purely magic and if it happens to fall off, it’ll poof from existence before it lands. Pinky promise!” Their pinky claw lifts up and away from the rest, holding it out towards Alastor with a grin. A scarlet brow raised into the curls of his bangs, eyeing the outstretched hand before shrugging and hooking his pinky with their’s.
“I suppose I can trust your word. I have yet to catch you in a lie.” His smile sharpened, ears flicking as he gave their finger a squeeze before letting go and bringing his hand back to his mug.
“Sweet! Now uh… may I be excused?” They asked, ears perked forward before tilting back in hesitation, as if they’d said too much, too familiar, too affectionate.
“You may.” Alastor paused, gaze trained on the ocelot as they flicked through their emotions right before his eyes. Interesting. Maybe he isn’t the only one feeling a bond growing between them, albeit small. “No need to ask. You are a grown adult, older than I to be precise, free to make your own decisions. It’s only your choice to excuse yourself or not, dearest.” He murmured, closing his eyes as he sipped again at his coffee. Long slender legs cross casually, bouncing his slipper on his toes to a tune playing in his head.
“Oh uh… Thanks…” Their ears flick once again and they rest in a position of uncertainty. His eyes closed as he pondered. He couldn’t place the nagging urge to stand and bring them close to his chest for comfort but it overwhelmed him. The urge to pet their ears and cheeks and tell them everything will be alright. To nuzzle them with affection and hold them until they felt better, to protect, defend, nurture even.
Black edged, scarlet auditory appendages quiver at the realization and they tip back ever so slightly before opening his eyes and gazing at Adine as they step over to the sink to rinse their dishes. He wouldn’t have minded if they’d have left them there, caked with grease and tiny flecks of egg and sausage in the sink. He still had a few more chores around the manor to handle now that Lonbraj wasn’t there to help with the other half of them.
“Adine, dear? Are… Do you… May I…?” Alastor let out a sigh, ears drooping with each time he tried to speak his mind. The sound of the faucet stopped and their near silent footfalls move back over to the table. It took him mere moments to calm himself enough to speak again.
“Would you care to be comforted…?” He’d asked once his voice came back to him. They step closer and more into his view, ears flat against their head. Their eyes meet before Adine averted them, holding a hand out towards the stag.
Alastor’s smile grew soft, affectionate even as he stood slowly from his chair and pulled the shorter demon to his chest, one arm around their middle while the other curled around their shoulders. Adine’s hands immediately lifted to grip at the lapels of his night shirt and they bury their face against his chest and shoulder.
These things came so naturally to him and Alastor was having trouble keeping up with his own instincts. He, obviously, had the forethought to ask but what if there came a time he would simply just do without so much as a thought? He wasn’t one to do things on impulse. Not entirely. He knew to use his manners when he wanted something but when they only went so far, he would have the urge to maim and slaughter whoever had opposed or disrespected him. And in most cases when he had those urges, maim and slaughter he did.
But right now, Alastor leaned his cheek on the crown of their head, cheekbone brushing an ear from where he’d nuzzled lightly at their hair. Their scent was familiar but foreign all in the same, similar to their father’s while having stray hints of other properties he couldn’t place at the moment.
Nonetheless, it eased him into a relatively calm state. At one point, they’d started swaying as a tune radiated from the radio by the coffee station, Adine’s arms coming around the hug his waist. They let out a slow, easy sigh, eyes closed and expression relaxed, as if asleep. They weren’t but the hug and attention to their hair and ears had sedated them into a mood of contented tranquility, thoughts going back to a time when they’d been alive, still a child.
Adine remembered some of the nights their father hadn’t come home as worry gnawed at both them and their mother’s nerves. They would stand in the middle of the living room and sway just like this, their mother’s voice carrying gently and melodically through the small home. She’d pet through their hair and nuzzle into the unruly curls when they’d grown tall enough for her to reach.
Sometimes Adine joined in to sing along but most times, they would simply listen, eyes closed, arms around her mother’s waist, and headed buried against her chest. Alastor didn’t have a voluminous bosom like their mother had but he was warm and his scent was close enough that they hadn’t cared. They relished in the hug and allowed themselves to become lost in the happy, comfortable feelings of being held by someone so innocently. Their paws had begun to knead carefully against the back of the stag’s shirt, barely tugging at the fabric and keeping the sharpness of claws from doing any damage.
Alastor couldn’t help his smile from turning genuine, eyes still closed as the arm around their shoulders lifted only so he could pet his claws through their hair and over their ears delicately. He didn’t want to hurt them and he could already feel a purr rumbling in their chest well before the sound could reach his ears. The glitter was, momentarily, ignored. They stay like that for a long while, standing together and swaying in silence aside from their purrs of contentment and the soft tune from the radio.
Alastor hadn’t expected to feel so at home with Adine in his arms. Like they were meant to be comforted by him when they were upset. When they were angry, scared, happy, elated. Everything.
When they separated, it was on Adine’s terms. They very subtly pushed a little at his chest, ears flicking lightly for him to let go and he does so easily, albeit silently reluctant. It’d been ages since he’d been held by someone that wasn’t Rosie or Lonbraj and surprisingly, he didn’t hate it. At least not with Adine. Their touch didn’t feel like needles pricking every pore, like tiny beetles scuttling under this skin, like static and harsh, shrill feedback filling his mind when he’s touched unwarranted.
“Thanks, Ally… I’m… I’m gonna go explore… See ya later?” They asked, ears still back as the ocelot stepped away and out of his space while his arms lifted to settle against the small of his back. He wore the same soft expression when they looked at him, finally, seeing the tender look in his eyes as they avert their own once again.
“Of course, dear. Do have fun. I will inform you if I leave but otherwise, you know where to find me.” Adine hesitated on their feet momentarily before leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek and rushing from the kitchen to wander the halls and the bayou. He watched as their tail was swiped through the doorway just before the swinging door caught it.
Alastor let a sigh slip between his teeth, eyes closing and stature relaxing some. Ears perked and senses extended, he felt where Adine moved through the building, opening doors and spending a few minutes exploring each one they entered. They touched his things but he could tell when they were placed back down and left be when simply grazed by a few fingers. The amount of respect oozing from their actions had his ears folding back in adoration.
‘This was still a total and complete stranger’ He told himself, brows furrowing as he sat back down in his chair. Alastor hadn’t felt this amount of trust for someone so soon after meeting them since he’d met Rosie and that was almost a century ago. It was unnerving but comforting all in the same. It was utterly confusing and entirely way too difficult for him to truly understand. He didn’t think any amount of time would help him to comprehend how things transpired the way they had within the past year.
When he’d joined the hotel, he hadn’t thought so much would happen, equally good and bad in their own senses. He’d formed some type of loose, yet mandatory bond with the princess of hell along with the rest of the staff and star patron, nearly died defending them and the rest of hell by requirement, and he still hadn’t entirely felt used. At least when he came to think about Charlie asking him for help and not the wench who still held his soul telling [forcing] him to be a lap dog for her child.
Things had been comfortable, yet he couldn’t ever shake the noose Lilith held around his neck tightening with each little stunt he would pull to lash back, even if it was for the benefit of the hotel and the royal family’s heir.
At least, not until Lonbraj and he had grown closer. He’d been able to keep his deal from his mind so much easier with the development in the relationship between him and his shadow to distract him. He’d only just realized how much of his attention he’d given to his partner over the last year. So much more than he had previous in their shared existence. It’s as if the shade knew whenever his thoughts wandered down a certain road. The road that led to a spiral into a depressive state that left him spending little time thinking of anything but and had done everything in its power to change that.
As his thoughts shift, so does his focus on the ocelot. He ended up losing them once they’d made it to the bedrooms, focus now on his companion, deepening further into the sadness he couldn’t seem to rid himself from.
Leaning his elbows on the table with his face in his hands, he sighed, rubbing at the growing wetness around his eyes. Years of holding back tears as a child and those bottled emotions acted as gasoline to fuel his rage in the later years of his life. He’d grown tactical with it, using it to his advantage and building a facade around the public to keep his sins under wraps.
When alive, he’d grown to control his emotions, able to hold back his anger until he could take it out on his next victim. Now, he couldn’t seem to keep them in check. His emotions and tears bubbled under the surface at all times almost, the tender moments with Adine an exception. His rage sat just underneath them, acting as the fire to boil them over into falling like streams down his face.
He’d grown weak. He’d grown too attached to the people and the beings and places around him. He’d trusted too many people and too many promises. His deal with Lilith made things harder to manage but he’d still been the same cruel and unmoving Radio Demon as he’d been before. His abilities and powers still extended to what the general public knew of but it capped now.
He should tell Adine to leave. He shouldn’t have offered them comfort and he sure as hell shouldn’t have invited them to his home. He shouldn’t have gone to the hotel and he shouldn’t have stayed there, for fucks sake! Just like his impatience with his fight against Adam that led to his inevitable defeat, he had been hasty for some entertainment and eager to finish his end of the deal.
Was he being too quick to come to these types of conclusions? He’d only been regretting it all recently. The only time he’d ever regretted anything was when he’d upset his mother when she was alive. With his entire afterlife shifting unpleasantly, he felt like the decisions he’d made within the last year had been his downfall.
With a shuddery sigh, Alastor stood from the table and made his way through the manor to his room to change for the day. His thoughts and unpleasantries could wait. He still had a guest, one he’d given a permanent invitation to. It would be rude to revoke it so soon. They’d just gotten the privilege this morning, less than an hour prior.
He felt bad upsetting Adine.
For a moment, very briefly, Alastor thought maybe he was being drugged or hypnotized or somehow influenced by some outside variable to cause him to grow so gentle, so soft, so weak.
Was it Lonbraj? Had he betrayed him?
It certainly couldn’t have been Lonbraj. The thought had him shaking his head to clear it, bringing his hands up to ruffle his curling hair with a growl. The shade would never deceive him. He was loyal. Without a doubt.
Alastor felt like he was going absolutely insane and not in the way he’d known his whole life and afterlife. It ate at his nerves, gnawing at his stomach in tangled anxiety and raking at his logic like rotting flesh.
Another shaky sigh and he’d taken a glance down at his now naked body through the mirror in his bathroom. The scar from Adam’s holy axe was still fresh looking despite the months that have passed since the King had healed him. His darkened death scars still stood proudly against the ashy grey of his skin and fur, some hidden by the tufts of grey, red, black, and white that adorned the length of his being.
It’d been ages since he stopped and looked at himself in the mirror, fully and in his entirety. It was never something he liked doing. Especially since he’d landed in hell. His ears had been tolerable on the best of days but everything else had been nothing less than irritating, hooves in particular giving him the hardest of times at his first arrival. At the time, he’d looked at himself with absolute certainty that he would hate everything about his existence from then on. In especial to the surprise between his legs that, despite having gone through years of dysphoria the organ had given him, it had grown on him in most recent of times.
Even with his displeasure upon seeing himself reborn into an anthropomorphic deer demon, he’d come to appreciate a majority of the instincts and attributes that came with his new body over the following months upon his death. He could hear a pin drop in a room full of chatter, could see damn near a mile way in exception to his right eye but his monocle more than made up for it. He was so much faster than he’d been during his life, reaching speeds he’d never imagined hitting before. Alastor was flexible, far more than he could have ever imagined being, and he was graceful on his hooves in no time at all.
And his powers? They’d been his favorite part, obviously. Still were. He used them for just about everything. To dress, to travel, to reach for things he couldn’t, to clean, kill, maim, slaughter and, most recently, get off. They made everything so much easier and his ego inflated along with his powers throughout the years.
Lonbraj had come with the abilities, devoted and loyal from the very start and willing to do anything and everything asked of it, even before being asked. Or that’s what he’d originally thought up until recently when he’d remembered meeting his shade when he had just turned six. It’d been a relief to be understood in a way no one else had been able to, especially at such a young age. Every memory with Lonbraj was a precious one.
His mother would truly be proud of the development her emotionally stunted child had gone through over the past year.
Alastor went from being the unmoving, unyielding overlord of Radio, widely known for his ruthless and gruesome nature, to the weak, small looking man that stared back at him with the same expression of scrutiny he held on his own face. Bare of clothes and bare of his dignity, his pride, his joy, his love. Had he loved before his shade had opened another side of their relationship to explore? Had he really known love aside from his mother? Certainly not. He would have remembered so.
But maybe he had? He’d lived twice now but only one was remembered.
Somehow, he felt it was partially Lonbraj’s and equally his father’s fault that caused his reincarnation in the first place. If what Adine had said was true, his shade had attached himself to the stag’s soul and, as touching as it was for Lonbraj to have formed such a connection that he’d gone so far as to entwine their souls, Alastor would have very much liked to be a willing and knowing participant.
Wrapping his arms around himself, Alastor’s gaze drifted down his body again, spending a fraction of a second on his groin before moving on to his thighs and further down. The gradient still amazed him, how immaculately perfect the colors faded into one another. When Lonbraj had been so kind as to quite literally and enthusiastically point out the patterned fawn spots along his back and the tail at the base of his spine, he’d been hell bent on being sure to keep them hidden from any and every sinner in existence.
The tail alone was a weakness, something that had little to no use aside from being an easy target. Touch alone was a lot to handle but his tail was far worse, the intensity enough to send him into a murderous rage or leave him helpless to the needles and bugs that would swarm his flesh in waves of disgust.
Aside from Lonbraj’s touch, of course.
Alastor twisted himself at the waist, taking a step to the side to get a look at himself from behind.
The fawn spots spread up along his back, flanking out down his sides and fading into the grey. Black and red adorned his back in capped layers, white spots starting at the base of his spine, just above his tail, out along his hips and thighs and reaching up towards the nape of his neck where the dots began to fade. He gave his tricolored tail a flick, watching the way the fur rustled with the movement.
At a glance to his rear, his ears perk and his eyes open a little wider. Had he gained weight? Is that why it looked a little bigger? Could he gain weight? He’d never done so since he’d gotten to hell but maybe…
With a glance lower, just below and between his legs at the folds peaking from his thighs. He may have that but there’s no way anything could come of it. Not in Hell. Sinners didn’t get pregnant and he was not an exception. He may have been reincarnated (he still debated with himself on whether he believed it or not) but there wasn’t any possible way for him to become one with child.
As much as that thought faintly intrigued him.
A small shake of his head, he drifted his eyes lower, over the plush yet slim length of his thighs and down along the gradient of his knee that sprouted lengths of fur. He lifted a leg, hoof scrapping slightly against the tile while bending at the knee and studying the way the joints and muscles worked to make it happen. The fur thickened along the lower part of the limb, soft, curling, tangling slightly from lack of care.
He hadn’t been taking much care of himself past the necessities. He couldn’t bring himself to take the time to groom his fur, despite how little he allowed to stay present at any given time.
Would Lonbraj like it if he wore it naturally, if he allowed the fur to cover every expanse of his skin instead of the stray tufts of fur here and there? He hesitated, then, with a swish of his hand, his fur fluffed out, covering him from head to toe. He’d broken the charm, allowing his more natural form to show in all its glory. This would be the first real time seeing it. He hadn’t cared to bother before as he’d been very happy with the way the charm had repressed some of his animalistic features that he’d been able to see without a mirror.
Now that he’d abolished the charm, he now had full view of himself. The lighter underbelly was expected as well as the doubling in fur. What he hadn’t expected was for his face to change. Instead of his grey, pointy nose, now perched an obsidian, twitching snoot, a black line emerging from it and leading straight up the bridge of his nose and to his death mark that lay hidden under his bangs. The freckles, had they been on anyone else, would have been cute, dusting in soft white spots along his sharp cheekbones and the bridge of his nose.
Turning around to step closer so he could get a better look at his face, he brushed his bangs from his forehead and noticed that it looked as though he had a permanent line of eyeliner along both eyelids, lips a few shades darker while, instead of a philtral ridge, another line of black replaced it. It was as if he’d been victim to a child’s birthday party face painting activity but far more realistic and detailed. A glance at his chest had a flush spreading along his cheeks. The fluff easily rivaled Angel Dust’s.
And now, he knew he had made the right choice in changing his appearance when he’d first arrived. He looked soft and vulnerable and straight up weak. Not that it wasn’t something that could be used to his advantage but he didn’t want to look like a cutesy fucking doe!
With a hurried wave of his hand, his charm came back up, being sure it was just as solid as it had been before he’d broken it. His features changed back to normal, the patterns of his coat disappearing almost entirely while the fur thinned significantly. His freckles faded away and the animalistic lines and designs vanished, leaving behind the smooth, unblemished grey of his skin. Scarring aside.
The panic that had been steadily building since he’d released the charm had faded upon seeing the normality of his features. Sighing shakily, he turned away from the mirror and headed out of the bathroom to the closet, arms tight around himself in some sort of comforting hug. It did nothing of the sort and only did good in making him feel even smaller.
He needed to see Rosie again. If only for some advice on dealing with these findings and vent to her how he was feeling. It was all too much and, with a shuffle through his clothes, he pulled on something a lot more casual than he’d been known to wear. He still adorned his slacks and a white button up but he forewent his waistcoat and bowtie, the top button undone to show the slightest bit of his throat and a single scar peaking behind the collar of the shirt.
Alastor gave another heavy sigh, rolling the sleeves up and running a hand through his hair carefully. Scarlet orbs disappear behind red lids and Alastor is focusing on the other magic source in the bayou, having to take a few minutes to find them before his heart lurched. They’d discovered his destroyed sanctuary and had stopped, unmoving from a spot along the edge of the clearing. He held his breath as he waited for them to move along, to turn around and continue on with their exploration. They didn’t need to see that part of him but they were and it was too late for him to hide his pain.
Adine entered the clearing, taking a slow walk around the outside edges, as if studying the way each tree had been mutilated. He felt them turn and step into the middle, close to where he’d been when he’d first started throwing his tantrum, and stopped. He felt their magic, felt it in his bones, as if healing a part of him, oozing slowly through his veins like liquor in his stomach and warming him from the inside out. The warmth shifted and moved, making its way towards that ever present hollowness in his chest.
Even as he felt the edges of that hole shrink ever so slightly, closing just a small bit, enough for him to notice, he had to find out what they were doing. He knew Adine had healing properties within their magic but this was different. It was as if healing a part of his dimension, even a part he’d destroyed on his own, had somehow eased some of the hurt and pain he’d been suffering over the last week. It didn’t fix it but it helped, even just slightly.
Alastor sunk into his shadows and materialized at the edge of the clearing, hands behind his back as he watched the ocelot.
Adine sat in the middle of the clearing, eyes closed, legs crossed, palms flat on the ground. The strewn dirt around them slowly morphed from the destroyed foliage and mud that skewed the scenery into the moss and grass he’d known since he’d first dropped into his void. The patch under their hands spread, crawling slowly outwards and, just as it reached the tips of his keratin, it paused then shifted around his feet and created a perfect circle around his hooves to continue towards the mauled trees behind him.
His gaze flicked back to the other sinner, eyes narrowing but he doesn’t stop them. He didn’t necessarily like that they were changing and healing his territory without permission but he’d let it slide. He’d been exceptionally forgiving with them and their familiarity towards him.
Alastor knew he’d be a hypocrite if he’d reprimanded them for it, all things considered.
When Adine finally lifted their hands from the ground and sat up straight, they brought one up to swipe a trickle of blood from their nose, sniffling and opening their eyes to look around. After licking up the blood, their gaze landed on his, widening slightly in surprise then they settle on a look of guilt, forbearance, and empathy, like they’d personally seen his breakdown firsthand.
His gaze is unwavering, daring them to say something, do something that would make it obvious how much he was actually hurting and the facade he put up to mask it. Their expression turned curious, cautious, compassionate. Maybe a bit confused. A lot of Cs, that one. Adine stood, brushed off their clothing and tediously made their way over to the stag, tail low and the tip curled inward between their ankles.
“I am not angry, if that is what you’re afraid of, dear.” Alastor kept his tone slightly guarded yet still allowed for a relaxed and easy mood to surface.
“I’m not afraid. I just… I’m sorry I didn’t ask first. I just couldn’t stop myself. The energy here was so painful…” And they dared. They breathed the last word, as if feeling the phantom pains of the aura of Alastor’s suffering.
“I can only imagine what it must have felt like for you.” He didn’t look at them when he said this, eyes scanning the clearing, taking in the life that Adine had breathed into it. The moss was vibrant and green, tinted blue with the ambiance while the trees had been mended, no longer splintering angrily at the sky. Begonias and hibiscus grew in patches while the undergrowth busied itself around them. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
Adine didn’t speak, likely thinking better on it and forgoing what they’d wanted to say. Alastor wasn’t feeding into the pity. It was the last thing he needed. They must have picked up on his irritation somehow because they dared to speak up.
“I don’t pity you. I empathize. I might not know what it’s like to lose the love of your life but I know what it’s like to lose a mother and, if it means anything to you, we both lost the same man. I know this is a sensitive topic and it’s not something you want to discuss but if this” Their arm swept behind them in a gesture to the now reformed clearing, eyes wide but expression showing little aggression. They were no threat and they weren’t growing angry, just frustrated and entirely too empathetic in their tone.
“If this is the result of how much you’re hurting, I don’t know if I feel comfortable keeping a contract with you, let alone staying here with you for any amount of time and that hurts me. I want to be here with you. I want to get to know you and I want you to get to know me. If not for us then for dad. You said I could trust you, that I can rely on you but if you can’t even control this… whatever it is that’s going on with you, then I can’t stay here. I can’t help you.” They hugged themself as they spoke, claws clutching at the sleeves of their button up.
Alastor stayed quiet, knowing when he was being reprimanded for his lack of honesty with his emotions. Rosie’s done this before with him. But how could he? This wasn’t a matter of whether or not he could trust them to catch him if they did trust falls. This wasn’t some foolish gossip to be silent about. This was about allowing them to hear him speak in his own words on how he was feeling. How the loss of Lonbraj affected him in more ways than he could count on two hands.
He wasn’t sure he could even attempt to express how this felt. He’d done so once, with Rosie, but she hadn’t understood. Not entirely at least. She’d tried her best and he could only love her for her effort to help him in his times of need.
Maybe Adine would understand. They’re missing the same person, knew the person well, and had a life with him, just as he had. Lonbraj was special to the both of them in separate ways.
“I am more than capable of controlling myself. I know when it is appropriate to express myself and when isn’t. Considering this is my personal dimension, I assumed I was more than allowed to be myself and express myself freely in my own space. I even went out of my way to avoid disturbing you during your slumber by moving my meltdown out here. I would have hoped you’d be a tad more grateful but I suppose I shouldn’t start to assume to have your understanding of my situation and my pain.” Alastor all but snapped. He hadn’t meant to. Not really.
It’d been involuntary to bite back with harsh words at being talked down to. He really had been thinking about the ocelot when he’d left the manor when he noticed his mind was filling with dark thoughts and hollowing pain.
“Our contract stated I shan’t put you in harm’s way and I upheld it to the best of my power and abilities. I would have hoped that was sufficient enough reassurance of my loyalty to my contracts.” His brow twitched, eyes narrowing. Adine’s expression hardened, claws flexing momentarily before they scoffed, rolling their eyes and growling something under their breath he couldn’t quite catch.
“You know, I never wanted to meet you when you manifested in hell. I heard everything, saw some of it too. Everyone was talking about you like you were some powerful being. Some hotshot with a bunch of power who was flaunting it around like expensive jewelry. I didn’t let that determine the impression you left in me anytime I saw or heard the things you did with my own ears and eyes. You’re selfish, self centered, and you flip the script on everyone to manipulate their feelings into experiencing guilt over standing up for themselves. You can’t just admit when you’re wrong and you can’t just keep your mouth shut when your emotions override your logic. So fuck you. I’m going home. It was nice spending time with you and finally meeting my dad again. I’m not going to break the contract but don’t expect me to dip more than a toe into this bullshit. I want to help, Alastor, but I can’t if you keep pushing me away and refusing it. If I can’t get ahold of my dad, tell him yourself what happened. If you lie to him, he’ll know because even if he’s forgotten everything, he’ll always remember me.” Adine stared at the stag in silence for a few long minutes before walking past him and heading back to the manor.
Alastor wallowed in silence, ears drawn back at the way anxiety and guilt coiled in his gut. The wildlife still buzzed and chirped and chattered around him, gentle breeze rustling the trees overhead but it was mute to the deer, unheard and simply white noise in his ears. He let out a deep sigh as he looked out across the clearing, eyes scanning the renewed foliage around him.
Was he wrong for dismissing the ocelot instead of allowing himself to be vulnerable in that moment? Maybe. Did he feel justified to hide behind his cruel tongue instead of opening up to Adine? Normally, the answer would be yes but he didn’t experience that riveting feeling of self righteousness that he would any other time he’d snap back at anyone who tried to get too close. Should he apologize to them? Obviously. But apologies start with admitting to yourself that you’d done something wrong and he, despite the guilt and shame that bubbled within, never admitted to doing anything wrong.
He’d only ever apologized to two people and he’d promised himself he’d never apologize unless he’d actually mean it, whatever the context of the situation. Now he’s managed to find himself in a situation where he wanted to apologize. If only to gain Adine’s good graces again.
With a shaky sigh and a flick of his ears to return them to their normally upright position and made his way after the ocelot. Even if he didn’t catch up to them, he’d call them through the radio to apologize. He needed the help after all and the only way to get it was to swallow his pride and tell them he was sorry.
Notes:
ALL TRANSLATIONS ARE FROM GOOGLE TRANSLATE. I speak NONE of these languages except for english so I apologize profusely if any of them are wrong. Please let me know if they are and leave the translation if you can so I can properly translate them! Thank you all in advance! :3
Chapter 4: You were plenty. You did plenty. You said plenty. You gave and you took plenty
Summary:
“You have been. I was simply pointing something out, sweet bambi.” He stared at her for a long minute, eye twitching slightly.
“And what, pray tell, is it that you are pointing out, hm?”
“That you had feelings for him, even if they were no more than platonic.” She stated matter-of-fact like.
“Had. For a very short time. I lost those feelings along with the respect I held for him the longer he spent in that vile creature’s presence. I suppose my company alone wasn’t enough for him.” He growl, ears back, glaring daggers at the woman. Rosie only smiled, giving a small shrug of her shoulders before she’s bringing the porcelain rim to her lips for another sip of tea.
Notes:
Hiya everyone! I know it’s been a while and I’m terribly sorry about that. I recently quit my well paying job for something less due to things that no one should have to deal with.
With that being said, I now have more time on my hands to work on my writing and other things I’ve been putting off.
No trigger warning for this chapter. More Rosie and Alastor moments though so expect fluff and tenderness between these two. They’re cute. Don’t judge me xD
Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Yes, yes, I am well aware of that, dearest. Now, will you please tell me something I’d like to hear for once?” Alastor sighed, ears tilted back in annoyance while he stared off at the wall. Rosie gave a sigh, long claws tapping idly against the decorative dolly’s spread aesthetically across the table.
“You know I don’t do that, sweet bambi. I always tell you and everyone else what they need to hear. It’s my specialty, little doe.” The stag couldn’t help the slight color that adorned his cheeks from the nicknames. Rosie knew him far too well and always seemed to use that to her advantage. Especially when trying to get him to open up and speak to her about his emotions.
He sighed once more and closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the night before and the way he’d fallen asleep listening to his mate’s heavy breathing. The memory brought heat to his cheeks and he had to bring a hand up to cover his mouth, biting his lip in slight embarrassment. He was with Rosie , for hell’s sake! He shouldn’t be having thoughts like these in her presence.
“Alastor, darling. I know you miss him. Really miss him, but he’s right. You need to let Adine come to you. You can’t force a feline to come when called. They’re independent creatures, bambi. They do as they please, when they please, however they please. Give them one quick phone to tell them you’ll leave them be but that you’re there. If that’s what you want, that is.” Rosie smiled, brows brought together and curved up in empathetic concern.
The genuine expression she wore had him sighing in defeat, slumping the slightest bit in his seat as he averted his gaze once more out the intricately designed window. The frame seemed to swirl and wave together like ocean tides, reminding him of the few times he’d gone to the beach with the woman.
He couldn’t help the second sigh of defeat that left his lips.
“You have a point. How, pray tell, do you have this effect on me dearest? We aren’t even a couple…” Alastor trailed off. The words didn’t feel right on his tongue and they left an odd taste in his mouth. They weren’t a couple. He was with Lonbraj . But he couldn’t quite think of another word for the woman. They could pass as a unit, for sure. There was no doubt there.
But they weren’t official in anyway, never talked about becoming an official couple, never hinted at it. The thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count during the century and a half he’d known the cannibal overlord but it never felt right in anyway. Was there a name for it?
“No, no we aren’t. But we are platonically close, dear. We don’t do everything a normal couple would but we certainly do enough for people to gossip.” Rosie smiled deviously over the rim of her teacup, taking a sip of the blood infused beverage with a couple bats of her long lashes. Alastor sighed, eyes rolling gently while his fingers drummed slow and methodical.
Rosie wasn’t wrong. He’s heard the gossip around Cannibal Town now and again but he’d always waved it off as just that. Gossip. The rumors weren’t true. Not in the traditional sense, so to speak. He loved Rosie. Very much. Alastor held the woman in a tender part of his heart and mind and he wouldn’t dare poke the lion where it lie. Rosie could be possessive at times but he adored her all the same. The only other woman he’s loved as much was his mother.
“Hm… I suppose it does. I believe a partnership would be quite scandalous in the eyes of the public, don’t you think? It would certainly be the talk of the Pride Ring! Oooh, what would the papers say?” The stag perked up a tad, mood shifting to flow with the other overlord’s playfulness.
“Hm! Oh they would be over the moon! We’d be all over the news, bambi!” Alastor’s grin turned devious and Rosie caught on quickly.
“That television of yours would be rather heartbroken too, don’t you think?” She just about purred, setting her saucer and teacup down on the decorative doily. He snickered lightly, flitting his fingers through his bangs to fix them.
“I would hope so! He’s never had a chance with me and he never will! Haha! What a sad, silly little picture box. Chasing tail that will never have an interest.” Alastor giggled lightly, tail wagging against the fabric of the seat. He lifted his own cup to his lips, sipping the savory liquid with a hum.
“Never? Dear, I quite remember you coming to see me regularly when you got into spats with him when you were still… acquaintances.” Rosie chose her words deliberately, exposing Alastor’s feelings for the media demon. Well, how he used to feel about him.
“Darling, I thought I had been very clear about how I felt about Vox. He made his decision and I made mine. He was very clear about his view on the future and none of it would have involved me regardless of how much he saw me there with him. He will fall along with his empire if he ever decides to actually retaliate for our final spat.” His tail had stopped, placing the saucer down on the table along with his cup with a light clatter.
“You have been. I was simply pointing something out, sweet bambi.” He stared at her for a long minute, eye twitching slightly.
“And what, pray tell, is it that you are pointing out, hm?”
“That you had feelings for him, even if they were no more than platonic.” She stated matter-of-fact like.
“ Had. For a very short time. I lost those feelings along with the respect I held for him the longer he spent in that vile creature’s presence. I suppose my company alone wasn’t enough for him.” He growl, ears back, glaring daggers at the woman. Rosie only smiled, giving a small shrug of her shoulders before she’s bringing the porcelain rim to her lips for another sip of tea.
“Alastor… you were plenty. You did plenty. You said plenty. You gave and you took plenty. Vox was the one who tried to take things further without understanding your feelings towards him first. He fore went consent, sweetie. He tried to force himself onto you and you made things very clear to him. He didn’t like it. You held your ground. That’s all there is to it. Don’t put the blame on yourself when he didn’t even bother to ask what it was that you wanted.” Rosie reached across the table to place her hand on his, giving him a gentle, understanding look that oozed from the black voids that made up her eyes.
A single spider darted from the left black abyss and disappeared into her curls. She didn’t even seem to notice and the sight sent a chill down his spine. He’d never tell her how creepy it was when those insects and such scuttle across her face at any given time. If she knew the effect it had on him, she’d find a way to make them crawl along her skin just to get under his.
“I’m well aware that I put in plenty of wasted effort and time and energy into that good for nothing, sorry excuse of a media demon. He may have an entire empire. He may have a vast majority of hell under his thumb. He may be married and happy but he would never have accomplished half of what he’s done for himself if it weren’t for ME! He gives all the credit to that barbie doll and that fucking bug !” Alaster snarled, antlers curling and snapping with each new tine. Eyes flickered from dials and back, claws pricking his palms with how tightly his fists were clenched.
“Alastor, sweetie, I know this still hurts you and I know you’re still looking for revenge but maybe… maybe revenge isn’t what you need. Maybe you just need to let him go, pretend he doesn’t exist?” She offered, standing to kneel beside the stag’s chair and taking his balled fists into her delicate hands. She unpeeled them, holding his palms face up as she smeared the beads of blood his claws had caused.
“Rosie, dearest, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not but he stalks me anytime I leave the hotel. He’s doing so right now.” He frowned, an ear flicking towards the far window closest to the door out to the emporium. The buzz of propellors and hum from machinery lingered there. There was a minuscule crack in the curtains, just barely enough to peak through but he could feel the camera on him and Rosie. A flick of his wrist and the curtain was sewn shut.
“Oh dear. I suppose I should invest in installing mirrored windows.” She chuckled at that, eyes squinting in amusement. Alastor just sighed, eyes rolling as he closed his hands around the cannibal’s.
“I suppose you should. Now, can we refrain from mentioning that good for nothing picture box? Please?” He asked, voice tilting at the end as he gave her hands a squeeze. The joy lines along her face relaxed, her expression softening as she nodded.
“Oh, well I guess we should. I wouldn’t want another hole in my wall!” She cackled lightly while she stood, dragging a small, genuine smile from the stag with her little joke. She stepped back a few paces only to sit back down in her chair, sipping at her blood laced tea once more. Silence filled the space between them, dragging on as Alastor thought of what to say. He knew he was the only one uncomfortable by the silence. Rosie was simply waiting for the stag to decide what to say.
“You will never let me live that down, will you?” Alastor chirped, gaze wandering to the window where Vox had been spying. His magic continued to hold the curtain shut, blocking the flying device from seeing inside.
“Never!” She giggled. In the next moment, he felt a slight kick to his shin, seeing the sly grin that spread across the woman’s dark lips gave him all the answers he needed.
“Just as I suspected.” he chuckled, fiddling with the dolly under his placemat. She hummed in thought but didn’t say anything else, simply sipping the rest of her tea before standing to clear their tables. Alastor didn’t mind. He was done with tea anyway. If anything, he was starving , but he wouldn’t bother Rosie for a meal. She’d already gone so far as to make him tea.
Silence fell over the two as Rosie made her way over to the kitchenette, carefully placing the dishes in the sink, rinsing them, washing them, then setting them to the side to dry. The cannibal dame hummed as she did so, turning on her heels once she was done and making her way back over to the stag. Standing, Alastor opened his arms for a hug, one she easily stepped into, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she pressed her head against his.
“Do call me again for tea, dearest. You know I’m usually always available for my favorite cannibal.” She giggled as she squeezed him lightly, his arms tightening slightly around her middle as he nuzzled her cheek with his own. He couldn’t help it, but she knew that already, nuzzling him in return before pulling back.
“Of course, darling doe. Don’t forget to call Adine . They may be expecting your call sometime soon.” She smiled wide, teeth and all, and winked at him knowingly. His brows tilt in slight confusion but he shrugged it off.
“I won’t forget, Rosie. When am I one to forget things?”
“I don’t know~! You’re getting old, dearie, and with old age comes memory loss!” Rosie just grinned deviously, booping the tip of his nose with one long claw. Alastor gave a huff, his grin turning genuine as he rolled his eyes playfully. She, then, leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. He accepted it, as he always did, ears back and smile a bit dopey. These moments always made Alastor forget he was older than her, that she was his friend and not his mother.
“Yes, yes, well, you aren’t that much younger than I, dear.” Playfulness danced in his eyes. Rosie couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from her throat, patting his shoulder in her joyous fit before smothering him in another hug. It was returned readily, Alastor burying his face against her shoulder with a comforting squeeze just before pulling back.
“Hush. You know better than to speak about a woman’s age! Now, go before I have to kick you out, darling doe.” She giggled as she turned him on his heels and herded him out of the emporium. He went willingly but when the door closed behind him, he was alone. The streets were rather empty for the late hour but the sound of a running motor filled his ears.
That blasted drone again.
With a huff through his nose, he dissipated into the shadows and headed back to his home. He had a phone call to make and a princess to visit.
Notes:
ALL TRANSLATIONS ARE FROM GOOGLE TRANSLATE. I speak NONE of these languages except for english so I apologize profusely if any of them are wrong. Please let me know if they are and leave the translation if you can so I can properly translate them!
Thank you all for reading this far! Please leave a comment or kudos! I’m a sucker for praise and criticism haha <3
Chapter 5: “My dad’s not THAT deranged!”
Summary:
With that thought, he entered the tower, heading up the dangerously steep spiral staircase and opened the hatch to climb inside. The room was dimly lit with firelight that bounced across the walls with the few candles littering some of the open flat surfaces. Sat at his large expanse of a tune table was Adine. They weren’t moving but from his spot near the floor, he could tell that their eyes were what lit up that area of the room.
Notes:
Hiya everyone!! It’s been a while, again. I really hate making y’all wait for these chapters but oh man has life been getting hard. What with all these administrative decisions in the gov rn making it hard to find any free time and energy to work on these stories and other projects.My autistic burn out is coming to a peak but I’m working on it.
I promise, I’m not putting these on hiatus. I will still be posting chapters until they are done but I just can’t promise any consistency with posting.
With that being said, this chapter will be a bit different. Alastor meets someone he didn’t think he’d ever get the chance to. He loses his cool yet again. Boy does he need some therapy.
If there’s any tags I might be missing please feel free to leave it in the comments and I’ll be sure to add it next time I’m on here. Also, feel free to call me out on anything. Constructive criticism helps immensely in the long run and I always appreciate y’all’s help in becoming a better writer. Idk how I’d have made it this far without y’all so thank y’all so much for sticking with me. <3 <3
Anywho, I hope y’all enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“So… You’re like, my dad’s boyfriend or something?” Adine twirled the knife in their hand, feet propped up on the table as they leaned back in their chair, tipping the thing back to balance on two legs. They looked bored and the half assed reading they’d been subjected to seemed to be making it worse. Alastor gave a long, heavy sigh in his annoyance. Adine was little less than a brat but any more of their questions and whining and he’d reconsider.
“Something like that. We haven’t gone over the fine details as of yet. Now, have you finished that book? You’ve been working on it for over an hour and I thought you’d be finished with it by now, what with the piles more we have to go through…” The stag slammed his book closed, sitting up to glare at the feline across the table from him.
“I haven’t… but you can have it now. I’m bored. I’m gonna go explore.” They stood from the table, boots clumping on the floor as they walked off. Alastor just rolled his eyes and grabbed the book they’d been working on to read for himself.
“Fine. But don’t break anything, don’t snoop through my quarters, and, for the love of all that is holy and unholy, do NOT enter my radio tower without informing me first.” The statement left no room for negotiation but he knew Adine was one to snoop anyway. He didn’t really care but the need to tell them not to touch his shit was always on the tip of his tongue, regardless of who he was talking to.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They huff, waving him off as they left the library. A click of his tongue and Alaster shook his head in disbelief, more for the fact that he continued allowing them to walk all over him. It was like it was instinct to treat them pleasantly, respectfully, and with dignity even if they didn’t return the sentiments. He already hated it.
It was almost as if he were treating them like close kin, like Adine was already family. Essentially, they were. They were Izarak’s child and therefore, Alastor’s, in a sense. Children were part of the package, so to speak.
Great, now he wasn’t even paying attention to the material in front of him. A glance at the magnificently carved grandfather clock in the corner told him it was around two in the afternoon. They’d been reading for four hours now so he suppose a break is earned. Alastor leaned back in his chair with yet another sigh, folding his hands together against his chest as he stared up at the ceiling, taking in the lack of anything interesting to look at. He’ll need to ask Niffty to hire someone to change that. A mural, perhaps?
Now, as he contemplated his next course of action, he felt the spells to his radio tower alert him to an intruder. He only sighed and rolled his eyes, melting into the shadows and reappearing outside the tower door. It was closed yet unlocked and the spells protecting it had been weakened, some broken completely.
Really? Do they truly believe I wouldn’t have noticed? On second thought, they may have done this on purpose… Whatever the case, they will have a piece of my mind.
With that thought, he entered the tower, heading up the dangerously steep spiral staircase and opened the hatch to climb inside. The room was dimly lit with firelight that bounced across the walls with the few candles littering some of the open flat surfaces. Sat at his large expanse of a tune table was Adine. They weren’t moving but from his spot near the floor, he could tell that their eyes were what lit up that area of the room.
Alastor allowed the hatch to fall from his hand, slamming open fully behind him while he stood on one of the top most steps with his elbows propping his head up from the floor. They hadn’t even seemed to notice the sound or his presence. He took a moment to contemplate what he wanted to say and how to say it while they came back to themselves from their little memory spell. He knew they were looking through the events that happened in this tower, likely looking for answers about their father or to get a better idea of what Alastor was really all about.
It took them a few moments to finish, but even then, Alastor stayed quiet. He continued to watch as they slumped back in the chair, breath heavy and tail twitching with overstimulation.
“Wow… He’s really fucked up…” They whispered to themself, claws digging into the wood of the armrests.
“Oh come now, your father was there with me the whole time! He’s just as ‘fucked up’ as I am! In fact, some of those were his ideas!” Alastor cackled a little at the last part, grinning particularly knowingly while lifting his brow in challenge.
“My dad’s not that deranged. He’d never do half that shit!” Adine’s expression turned angry, offended, the blood dribbling down their lip went unnoticed by the feline.
“Are you calling me a liar?” There was pause between them, Adine obviously done with his shit and Alastor not quite satisfied with his own mischief yet.
“Well I suppose you have good reason to but I assure you, I am not lying about this.” Alastor never moved from his stance halfway through the hatch, free hand tapping his claws along the hardwood in slow methodical clicks.
“Alright, say you aren’t lying. Why would he want to do some of that shit? He’d always been the type to help good people. Granted, he wasn’t ever afraid to rip someone to shreds for trying some tom-foolery but that’s beside the point!” Alastor’s gaze flicked upwards, as if giving the question genuine thought despite giving none at all, then dropped it back down to meet the ocelot’s.
“That’s something I cannot answer for him. Although, he’d always been so helpful when brainstorming those diabolical plans. His ideas were the most sporadic and spunky!” He almost giggled at the ideas his shade had offered during those times of plotting out their next move.
“I don’t believe you.” They huffed bluntly, tail flicking side to side in visible irritation.
“Then answer this: how often did you see my darling shade in each one of your visions?” The matter-of-fact tone he’d used had their brows scrunching together even more as they averted their stare to think.
“Every single one. What’s it matter for?” They stood from the desk chair and folded their arms, left hip cocked out with what he’d call defensive. No matter. They’ll understand soon enough.
“Darling, I believe you’ve forgotten that Mon Ombre [F: My Shadow] is your father. So, if you saw the shade, you were seeing your papa [C/F/S/etc: father, dad, daddy].” Alastor stated, rolling his eyes dramatically. The feline scoffed, rushing over to the stag with a stomp in their step, pushing him aside and climbing down to leave.
“Where are you going, Adine dear?”
“Home. Don’t follow me.” Timp timp timp came their footsteps on the metal stairway.
“I wasn’t planning to. Might I ask why?” He turned to sit on the top step, leaning over the side to watch their decent through the empty middle of the stairwell.
“You pissed me off. I don’t want to see you until we find dad.” Their voice began fading the further down the stair they got.
“Oh? My apologies, but darling, you ignored a very clear boundary of mine so I’m unsure as to what I’ve done to upset you.” They didn’t say anything more, only the harsh slam of the heavy door answered him as they left the tower completely. He pondered to himself why he put up with their shit as he felt Adine’s magical signature make their way through the manor and out the front door, fading out of his range the further they got.
Oh well.
He gave a shrug as he stood, taking the last step into the studio and flicking his wrist. His ear quivered as the hatch slammed shut with the wave of magic and shadows that forced it closed. Anger began to bubble in his stomach and skirt up his spine.
He wasn’t sure what was bothering him but he wasn’t about to question it. If he ruined his studio in his rage, then so be it. It wouldn’t be the first time and he doubted it would ever be the last, what with his sudden outbursts and lack of anger management. He was due for some violence anyway so a small genocide in the streets of hell might be his best bet.
But for now, he’d play some tunes while he planned out his next move. He sat down at his tune table and began setting up for a show. A moment later, the ‘On Air’ sign flickered to life at the top of his tower while every radio in hell buzzed to life, bleeding with the static of his void.
“Good afternoon denizens of hell! Welcome back to my pretty little show! Stay tuned for all the juicy details of the overlords you all know so well! But, until then, enjoy some tunes to settle your nerves~!” He cackled at the end, grin wide and dripping with blackened saliva. A little flick of the wrist and a timey, upbeat tune began to play, seeming to drown out the anger and discontent that oozed from his voice.
Alastor wasn’t sure why he was angry, why he was feeling rage sizzling under the surface. He wasn’t sure why he was so upset with Adine. Maybe it was because they left well before they found anything helpful, or maybe it was from their anger towards him when he hadn’t done anything but speak the truth.
For once.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The show went just as he planned, not that it would be anything less than perfect. He didn’t allow guests often and if he did, it was usually Rosie or his victims of the day, so his shows always ran as smooth as he expected them to. The subjects were as he’d stated before, gossip about the current overlords as well as ones who were working towards gaining some sort of footing on the upwards ladder that was Hell’s class system.
Out of all the things he did on a daily basis, his time on air was mostly the tamest. While he did have victims as guests every now and then, music and gossip were his biggest hits. He may not be a fan of the newer music the younger generations adored but he still played it every now and then. Alastor had to keep his ratings up. Otherwise, where would his reputation go?
In the swamp water, that’s where.
Without having the chance to think more on this, his stomach growled, signaling the hunger that’d been building up the past few days. He was never usually one to eat unless he was ravenous, something he’d been refraining from doing on account of the hotel guests, but he doesn’t work there anymore. He doesn’t need to worry about forcing food into his gullet when he didn’t feel like eating. In fact, he’d gained a bit of weight staying at the Hazbin Hotel, needing to go up a belt notch and a pants size. He hadn’t needed to do that for decades.
At least, now, released from the shackles that kept him bound to the hotel (not that he had been forced to stay against his will), he could settle himself into a much more suitable weight again. Rosie would bitch at him for losing weight and about needing to tailor his pants again, not that he expected her to do so in the first place. He could easily just hire some poor soul to do his bidding.
And by hire, he means stealing their soul through a lengthy contract that he has yet to see anyone read and forcing them to do whatever he says.
As he contemplated these things, he stood from his dials and buttons to head back down to the library to clean up. His thoughts shifted as he walked, eyes wandering about the trinkets and nicknacks that decorated his spaces. Lonbraj came to mind, as he always did when he lost himself in his minds monologue these days.
Things were starting to feel useless at this point. It’d been two weeks and he hadn’t gotten any closer to finding Izarak. Alastor hated this. The wait, the dig for information, the useless squabbles between himself and his ‘friends’. All of it, he couldn’t stand it. He was always on edge nowadays. Always ready for a fight, for violence and bloodshed. Like everyone deserved to experience the pain and suffering he felt right now.
Walking into the library and straight for the table Adine and he had been working on, he hadn’t noticed at first that a tall, dark silhouette sat comfortably off to the side in the reading nook. No magic had registered, no being, nothing warned him for the smooth feminine voice that seemed to seep into his soul.
“Hello, dear ‘Alastor’.” His name was said with sarcasm, as if they knew about his soul’s second chance.
His hand paused hovering over the book Adine had been reading, ear twitching towards the sound of the voice before a tendril shot out of nowhere and plunged into the, now, empty seat.
“Come now, is that anyway to treat your future Mother-in-law?” They purred in his ear, shadows flitting around his being as he twirled on his heels to face the intruder. Alastor’s gaze landed on nothing but billowing smoke that dissipated after only a few moments.
“Who are you and how did you get in here!?” He snarled, whipping around again to see where they went. He saw nothing until he looked up at the small balcony where a tall, voluptuous woman stood with long dreaded locks that reached her calves, beads, cuffs, and sparkle adorned the bound strands. Her dress was of greens and blues and some yellows. It hung like silk around her curves and draped along her body in waves, shimmering in the low light while bouncing off the colors in pans of glimmer.
She wore beads of rainbow colored stones and wood around her neck, long draping necklaces that overlapped yet never tangled. Some hung higher around her throat, much like a choker, while others hung close to her thighs.
She had long, dark whiskers that veiled her cheeks, hanging from her pointy snout; tall rounded ears that stood proud upon her head. He couldn’t see a tail, though, he assumed she had one. She looked to be a wolf or a fox of some sort, although, unusually tall and spindly, much like himself.
“Easy there, tiger. The how can wait. Introductions are in order, sweetie! My son isn’t here to do it so we’ll have to make do.” She smiled warmly, razor sharp teeth on full display but, somehow, it reminded him of the warmth Rosie emitted when she smiled at him.
“Well, you already know my name. It’s your turn, dear. If you are who you say you are, then I suppose I owe you an apology for the… lack of a warm welcome.” Alastor stood up straight, slow and methodical in his movements as he brushed some debris from his shoulder. His ears vibrated with stress, twitching at the urge to kill this woman for intruding on his home. If she was truly Lonbraj’s mother, he’d need to know everything she did about the shade.
She chuckled lightly before making her way down the steps towards the stag, dress flowing like water behind her. From this angle, he could see that she had a tail, albeit, docked for some reason. He didn’t bring light to it.
The closer she got, the more tense he became. His muscles coiled tight as he prepared for an attack. He still couldn’t feel her presence, her magic, anything. It was as if she didn’t actually exist.
She must have noticed his inner conflict or she might have just sensed it because she mocked him blatantly.
“Oh relax now, lil’ bambi. I may be called a wolf but you’re far too scrawny for my liking.” She snickered as she stepped closer, reaching a hand up towards his face. Her features became more prominent, a faint discoloring on the left side of her face seemed odd but it spread out in patches along her arms and down her leg that peaked out of the slit in her dress with every other step.
Did Lonbraj have the same kind of markings?
Alastor refused to flinch when she cupped his cheek, thumb brushing warmly against the velvet that covered his body. It reminded him of his mother and he almost caved. Unlike her, this woman held an underlying chill in her warmth. He could see it in her eyes and the way she looked at him. She despised him, jealous even. She was warm nonetheless.
She seemed to pick up on his resistance to trust her, dark, malignant eyes studied his face, as if staring right into his soul. She couldn’t. He didn’t have it right now.
“Algaía.” She purred, giving his cheek a small pat before stepping around him to look at the literature littering the table.
“It’s a beautiful name, dear, but, as you may already know, I do not trust you in the slightest.” He huffed, resisting the urge to rub his cheek clean of her touch.
“I know.” She smirked, skimming her fingers along the pages as she walked around the tables.
“Looking to reverse my magic, hm? Well, you’ll need more than these measly books to figure that out. The king might know, although, he may be less inclined to help if he knew you were pursuing me with malicious intentions.” Her sparkling eyes flash towards him before looking back down at the literature before her.
“And why might that be?”
“Because he fears me.” Alastor laughed at her, a hand to his stomach as he cackled. The king of hell? Fear her? No way in hell! She looked less than amused, eyes blazing with a silent fury at his audacity to laugh at her.
“I’m sure he does. Afraid? Of the likes of you? Why, I might believe you if Lucifer were here to show us but, until then, we’ll see.” She did nothing to correct his disrespect, at least, for now. She must have taken that as her sign to leave.
That, or she was clearly pissed and didn’t want to make him regret it. Yet.
“Until then.” Her lips spread in a devious grin before she disappeared into a cloud of shimmering blue and green smoke that swirled around him viciously before dissipating.
The silence began to ring in his ears louder with each growing moment that he stood staring at the empty space Algaía. It took him longer than he’d like to admit but when he regained his composure, it was broken mere seconds later, shadows shooting out of his portal dimensions and his back to wreck the library.
For once, his screams of rage could be heard from every radio turned on in hell, faintly echoing behind the music serenading from their speakers.
Notes:
ALL TRANSLATIONS ARE FROM GOOGLE TRANSLATE. I speak NONE of these languages except for english so I apologize profusely if any of them are wrong. Please let me know if they are and leave the translation if you can so I can properly translate them!
Thank y’all for reading this far! Please leave a comment or kudos! I’m a sucker for praise and criticism haha <3
GummiMato on Chapter 1 Sat 20 Apr 2024 05:23AM UTC
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Camdon_24 on Chapter 1 Sat 20 Apr 2024 09:58AM UTC
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Jadepixil on Chapter 2 Mon 06 May 2024 10:48PM UTC
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Camdon_24 on Chapter 2 Tue 07 May 2024 03:32AM UTC
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qualmism on Chapter 2 Thu 09 May 2024 08:05PM UTC
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alalal_33 on Chapter 3 Fri 17 Jan 2025 12:03PM UTC
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Camdon_24 on Chapter 3 Thu 17 Apr 2025 03:04PM UTC
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Camdon_24 on Chapter 5 Thu 07 Aug 2025 12:51PM UTC
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