Sing, My Angel of Music

by Eva_J

Summary:

“Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up fucking again? Ever?”

It seemed that despite the agreement Zeezi made with everyone, Maestro could not forget the song of the angel who helped them. Emily was it? She manages to pique his curiosity and passion for songwriting.

(Takes place after the S2 finale, a what-if rare pair scenario!)

Chapter 1: Prelude

Summary:

Well-

I didn't think the brain rot would consume me that bad, but I wanted more Maestro so here we are.

Not sure how long I'll go with this. Also a semi-continuation to my previous fic.

A story about Maestro x Emily as a rare pair! It begins after Season 2, during the next overlord meeting…

Hear my hope

Let it echo

In every soul that needs

Something to believe…

“Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up fucking again? Ever?”

Ah—

Maestro out of everyone flinches. He had been caught softly humming, in the middle of the overlord meeting no less. Zeezi ended up vulgarly snapping him out of the trance.

“It’s fine, things have been a little unproductive and slow recently, haven’t they?” Alastor chuckles, the radio filter crackling over his voice as usual. “Nothing wrong with distracting one’s self with a little tune I say! Though ear-worm can be quite the curse.” 

“Indeed. This era of peace is an unusual one. I don’t think it will last, depending on if any of the Vees decide to show themselves again to us or not.” Carmilla digs her nails into the table, remembering what had happened last month. She almost couldn’t forgive herself, allowing Vox to use her protective nature over her daughters against her. 

It took a bit of pep talk from Zestial and the others for her to forgive herself, she even almost wanted to abandon the overlord meetings entirely… but the others convinced her to stay. She was nowhere on the level of the Vees.

Rosie’s absence was more questionable. When Maestro had asked Alastor about it, he brushed it off. Due to the absent space of all three Vees, Hatchet, Prick, and Dominique were invited to take their places.

Prick and Hatchet were reluctant and fearful at first due to the reputation Zestial had, but since the incident with the weapon, they figured he couldn’t be all that scary or at least had a sense of humor. They just… had to tone down their rowdy behavior.

Dominique on the other hand, an anxious mess of an artist-themed sinner, was a bit harder. Maestro had to convince them to come and that it would be much easier to settle in now that the Vees were gone. Still, their seat was kept farther from the rest and Maestro watched them scratch at their own skin from mild stress.

“Sometimes ‘tis nice just to have these calm moments of tranquility, ‘tis easy for us to forget after ages of war.” Zestial adds, sipping his tea loudly.

“It’s boring around here,” Hatchet grumbles.

“Well, you know what they say,” Dominique sheepishly laughs. “This peace is what all true warriors strive for!”

The reference falls flat, leaving Dominique to awkwardly chuckle before it fades off.

“Alastor, maybe you should invite that Nifty girl next time to liven things up ‘round here!” Prick adds. “Or at least ask ol’ Husk if he can bring some of them playin’ cards over, provided I don’t get cheated.”

As they start yammering about nothing in particular again, Maestro’s mind returns to the night Vox kind of went batshit. The way he grabbed onto that one peaceful angel, shoving her in a chair next to Maestro, the way she got her wing caught in the blast while trying to save other sinners, the way she tried to make a shield to protect them all…

She could have died doing that, but that angel and the Princess rallied everyone together somehow.

…

The voice of her hope echoes in his head. Perhaps he feels guilt. Remorse that he had assumed the worst just because of the Exorcists. He knew he shouldn’t have, he always believed that surely, the angels he was told were beautiful and pure, existed somewhere.

His fingers tremor, tapping the desk like piano keys.

“This meeting is dismissed.”

He stops when he hears Carmilla speak up. Prick and Hatchet are first to get up, immediately arguing with one another on the way out. Perhaps they had started bickering again. Zestial exits next after bowing to Carmilla, Alastor lingers around in the shadows, and Dominique simply waits for Maestro.

“That wasn’t… too bad after all,” they say. “I think I could do this again. I just need to not talk ever, maybe.”

Maestro isn’t really paying attention.

“Dominique, go on ahead without me.” Their nerves break a little upon hearing that. “Or wait for me. I want to speak with the radio demon about something, and I don’t want him preying on your vulnerability.” He then gently ushers them away.

This time, Dominique seems to understand, going to the ground floor of the building to wait patiently. It wasn’t like they couldn’t walk themselves back, but Maestro just wanted to make sure.

“Alastor.”

He calls out to the radio demon.

“You rang, old fellow?” Alastor smiles wider than normally. “My, Maestro, you’re looking as fiery as the Hindenburg disaster today!” Canned audience laughter accompanies him.

“What was the name of that angel who helped you and the Princess?”

He pauses, literal radio silence.

“Come to think of it, I still have no idea!” Alastor chuckles again. “You seem fond of her little show tune from last month! Can’t get it out of your head, can you?”

He ignores the remarks. “Can Miss Morningstar contact her normally?”

“She’s a regular visitor when not attending to that place upstairs, I believe!”

How should he go about this? Maestro wants to learn more, but he doesn’t really want to get involved with the hotel’s silly redemption shenanigans. Miss Morningstar was a handful and often embarrassed herself. Badly. He just wants to know more about the angels.

He isn’t going to dare shake Alastor’s hand over anything either.

“Why don’t you come visit the hotel yourself?”

Damn radio demon practically reading his mind at this point…

“It’s been busy, and I know you hate noise, but sometimes that angel girl pops in to lend a hand!”

A plan starts forming in the music overlord's brain.

“That will do… I suppose I will have to stop by.”

“Maybe bring your skittish artist friend!” Alastor cackles.

He didn’t exactly want to do that at all. They would throw up in that sort of crowd…

Chapter 2: Overture

Summary:

(I forgot I had chapter summaries LOL)

After the awkward meeting, Maestro decides to visit the Hazbin Hotel to meet Emily proper.

The next evening, after telling his butler and Dominique where he would be going, Maestro left for the hotel. Both of them would be doing their own work while he was gone, so there wasn’t any need to worry about either of them. The servant would make sure Dominique was fed. Satan forbid that they end up having only coffee and nothing else.

While not as bustling and crazy busy as it was after the angels were warded off and Vox’s mishap, there were definitely quite a few sinners present in the lobby alone. Drinks were being served by the bar, and there was a billboard that listed activities.

Therapy sessions, games, sing-a-longs… and yoga? That’s an odd one. Who came up with that idea? Sure, it’s relaxing but—

No, that isn’t important. He focuses, narrowing his eyes and pushing forward to the reception desk. That one former Exorcist angel is there. Vaggi, was it? Since neither Alastor nor the Princess seem to be present, he might as well speak with her.

He approaches, Vaggi lifts her head, mildly alarmed but not on the defensive.

“You are… one of Carmilla’s overlord friends.” Vaggi hesitates. “The one that helped shut off the weapon, right? Uh, can I help you?” No doubt she’s nervous at the prospect of an overlord visiting, even though she herself is on good terms with Carmilla.

“Is Miss Morningstar here?”

“Charlie is… having a moment.” Vaggi bites her lip and averts her one eye. “Family stuff.”

Speaking of her family, Maestro really does not want to run into her father if he’s here. He might have to make this quick.

“I wanted to ask about that angel who nearly sacrificed herself to save everyone.”

“Emily?” Vaggi replies, increasingly nervous.

“Is there any chance she’s visiting? Alastor mentioned that she pops in to lend a hand every now and again.” Given how tense she seemed, it was better to be forward and honest. “While I have no interest in this redemption nonsense, I would at least like to express gratitude, given the other overlords are trying to sweep the whole thing under and forget it happened.” Subtly throwing shade at how Zeezi, Prick, and Hatchet reacted.

Easing up, Vaggi stammers. “Oh,” she clears her throat. “Since Charlie has been freaking out over personal matters, we have been asking Emily to help out with the hotel actually. I’m in charge of management if Charlie isn’t available, and then Emily kinda takes charge for the sing-a-long stuff or room service.”

“I see,” Maestro hesitates. “Should I come back—?”

Before he can even finish his sentence, Vaggi just rings a golden bell on the counter. The angel named Emily, in her extremely high energy, comes flying down the halls, letting go of the food cart she had been pushing before zipping right next to Vaggi behind the counter. 

Vaggi seemed all too used to this by now.

“Did you call me Vaggi? Did I mess up? Do you need something from me before I go back home?” Overly energetic, she then sees the flaming overlord. “Oh! I think I remember you! Wasn’t I forced to sit next to you at one point? Uh, hi there!”

“Hello,” he starts, still a bit startled by the entrance. “You are Miss Emily, is that right? I came to thank you for saving us last month, despite so many rejecting you at first.”

She pauses, surprised to hear this. “Oh! It’s… it’s nothing really! I mean, you guys had a right to be angry with heaven looking back on it! I mean seriously? What was I thinking? No one can just apologize for genocide with gift baskets, right?” Emily tries to laugh it off, but then stops suddenly. “I mean, not that it was funny at all! That was terrible and I promise I had no idea it was even going on until recently!”

Maestro takes notice of her wing, replaced with a golden prosthetic of sorts.

“No offense is taken.” Maestro pulls his hands forward. No one had noticed until now that his arms had been behind his back this entire time. Vaggi’s reflexes nearly kicked in, but they stopped once she got a better look at what it was.

Emily gasps. “A gift basket of my own!?” 

She squeals, taking the cyan-colored wicker basket. The contents consist of some sweets, a rather creepy elk plushie, handkerchiefs, ointments, and… a bottle of wine. Perhaps not a gift suitable for a bubbly angel, but—

“I love it!” Emily screams again. “Thank you, thank you, thank you— oh! Wait, I never got your name!”

“Maestro.”

“Thank you so much Maestro!”

Through the overjoyed cries, Maestro can faintly hear Lucifer coming down the stairs. Best he retreat and leave now, otherwise he would be forced to hear about The Great Quacksby again, or some other surreal duck-related musical he had in mind.

“I shall take my leave now. See you again soon.”

He then bolts out of the hotel, by simply sliding across the floor as fast as he can. It leaves everyone befuddled, but Vaggi seems to understand the situation once she sees Lucifer.

“That was weird.” She mutters.

Emily, in the midst of watching him leave, looks back at her gift.

There is a sealed envelope sticking out from under the elk doll, a wax, skull-shaped seal covering the fold.

---

Returning to heaven leaves Emily overjoyed, but more quiet than usual.

She tries her best to hide the gift basket she got from Sera and Abel, hiding it behind her back before retreating. Emily ends up asking Sir Pentious about Maestro, because if there was anyone who might know anything, it would have been him, right?

All he can say is that the man is an overlord like Vox and Alastor. Maestro, true to his name, was apparently a highly talented musician and composer in his life, but frustration from not being ‘seen’ by certain critics caused him to lash out.

In other words, he murdered them and made a habit of his hidden, horrible temper.  A killer, like most overlords.

What defined an overlord down there apparently were two things: Owning the souls of others, and having a significant body count. 

Vox and Alastor were serial killers. Valentino was a pimp. Velvette most definitely had doxxed people and ruined careers. Prick was a murderous, wild west outlaw. Hatchet was part of a sacrificial Satanic death metal cult. Carmilla Carmine was a weapons’ dealer that enabled war across countries. And Zestial… was too frightening to speak of.

When he arrived though, Maestro had greatly mellowed out on the hostility, though Sir Pentious could never get through to him.

“Do you think he wants to be redeemed?” Emily asks.

“Who knows?” Sir Pentious hisses. “What makes you ask that?”

She holds up the envelope. By now, Emily had taken the wax seal off and had already read the contents. “He wants me to come visit him. Like, formal invitation and all! I don’t want to worry Sera, but since I’ve already been helping with the hotel, I’m wondering if I should try to do my own solo-attempt at redeeming someone! I mean, I assume that’s why he’s inviting me over, right?”

Even Sir Pentious, someone oddly wholesome for an individual that had once been sent to Hell… couldn’t help but be a little worried at how blissfully naive Emily’s assumption was.

“I don’t think he’s trying to do anything as evil as Vox,” being used and told to off himself was fresh in Pentious’ memory. “But… I would be cautious! Don’t make any deals or favors with him, of course.”

Now… the only thing to figure out next was, should she lie to Sera about the whole thing? No! That would be terrible, bad! But… maybe there would be a loop hole? It wouldn’t be a lie for Emily to tell Sera she was going down to Hell to check on the hotel, do that, and maybe a little more…

Yeah! It wouldn’t be a lie! It would be hiding an extra part of her day! And if Sera happens to be somehow watching and figures out Emily made another stop? It will be okay! There’s no reason to be mad!

…

That’s how Emily hopes this will play out at least!

Notes:

I like the headcanon I see passed around that Lucifer's line about the sinners having bad taste in musicals primarily applies to Maestro and they had beef.

Also the thing about the overlords and why they are down there is admittedly, mostly headcanon on my part. The higher the body and soul count, the higher on the pole they are.

Chapter 3: Passionato

Summary:

Upon finishing her temporary shift at the hotel and looking over the invitation she acquired, Emily decides to meet with Maestro at his theater.

After doing her shift of help at the hotel, Emily confesses to Vaggi about the invitation she got. Vaggi was rather torn on the matter. On one hand, she would normally say that going to see an overlord by herself was a terrible idea, especially after the experiences Charlie had with the Vees and Alastor being… Alastor.

But Carmilla Carmine was a friend. Vaggi didn’t exactly want to profile all of the overlords. Maestro seemed… pleasant enough. Probably not a manipulative individual, but Emily should keep her guard up.

On the other hand, she feels like she knows that look when she sees it. That look that’s enough to make her know Maestro actually had intentions that weren’t evil as hell. Vaggi had a hunch about him, so it may be best to let Emily go and confirm her suspicions.

So she ends up going through with it. Thankfully there was an address listed in the invitation! That made things quite a bit easier for the bubbly angel. It doesn’t take Emily long, after greeting various grateful sinners that she had previously saved, to make her way to a rather gloomy-looking theater, various cyan flames keeping the place lit.

A sinner shaped almost like a music note greets Emily at the door. Surprised to see her, he takes a bow.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Emily.” She notes the servant’s thick French accent. “The Maestro has been expecting you, but I must admit I didn’t think you would come.” He then opens the door for her. The sound of an organ being played can be heard inside of the theater.

There’s… a faint smell of paint fumes too. Emily just assumes maybe some renovations were going on. Getting on her feet, she walks past the entrance. It would be rude to just fly all over the place, as much as she wanted to look at the incredible gothic architect on display.

It seemed empty, but in the corner of Emily’s eye, she can see another sinner coming out of another room, wearing… a bathrobe? 

Oh dear! Emily is quick to shield her eyes with her wings just in case, but it’s too late, the sinner has already noticed her and squeals. “I didn’t think you would get here so soon! I knew I shouldn’t have stayed in the shower to my thoughts– stupid! Stupid!” The sinner stammers.

“No, it’s okay!” Emily waves her arms, still covering her eyes with her wings. “Wait, you knew I was coming?” She shifts one of the wings, briefly peeping at the sinner’s hunched form.

“Yeah,” they grumble. “Maestro wanted me to take a shower so that I would be presentable for his guest. But I did that last month! Wasn’t that enough?”

… No comment.

“I’m Emily!” She tries to change the subject.

“Uh, I’m… they call me Dominique.”

“Nice to meet you, Dominique!” While blindfolding herself, Emily uses her free hand to shake the sinner’s. “Are you Maestro’s roommate, or…?”

They become flustered. “Kinda? But not really? Roommate that is! Think of me as, like, a minion or something.” Dominique tries to explain. “I made a pact with him after he saved me, so I’m—”

Emily then gasps, freeing her wings from her eyes in excitement and joy.

“He saved you!? So I have a chance!”

“Uh… what?” Dominique looked uncomfortable, drawing back and trying to hide their body from the angel. 

“Redemption for him, of course! I knew he invited me for that reason!” Emily exclaims.

Before she can continue, they are both interrupted by a laugh, belonging to the owner of the theater himself.

“Amusing thought process.” Maestro stops himself from laughing any further. “Dominique, go get dressed, then you may join us. Maître, I assume everything has been prepared?”

The man at the door bows once again after dusting off his suit for uncertain reasons. “Dinner has already been prepared for the guest, if they are hungry.”

Maestro nods but then turns to Emily. “Did you bring the wine I gave you?”

“Um… actually, I did, but only so I could return it. I didn’t want my older sister finding it and all.” She makes a point by using a small portal to bring the bottle of wine forward. “I’m kiiiinda not allowed to drink at all given my status, but I appreciate the gesture!”

“It should be safe for angels. You needn’t worry.”

“That isn’t the point!” Emily pouts at him, following Maestro to a dining hall with the servant.

---

They sat themselves at one of those weirdly long dining tables. Maestro usually used it for when he wanted to have the overlord meetings at his place. Carmilla and Zestial were often the ones that held those gatherings, but once in a blue moon Maestro would take charge. 

Emily hadn’t expected something like this. She heard about the Goetia living luxuriously like this, but a sinner overlord? To add to even more surprises, Dominique sheepishly came to the table after getting dressed—

“Oh! That’s beautiful!” 

Emily is in awe, seeing the sinner from earlier donned in a chemise gown. Perfectly loose-fitting, colors that matched the rest of the environment, and their hair had been pinned up with cyan paint streaks.

“Uh, thanks?” Dominique clears their throat. “I guess you could say I’m in a she/her mood tonight, and this is the only outfit that fits me for now.”

Genderfluid? Noted! “Only outfit?” Emily asks.

“I’m kinda out of shape. No good in anything formal wear. I had to try though because—”

She stops, puffing up her cheeks and swallowing.

“Don’t throw up,” the Maître growls, opening the wine bottle for everyone. “Not before you even eat or drink. You hardly eat as it is. And especially do not throw up on that nice gown.”

“I’m trying,” Dominique chokes it down, wiping paint from their lips. “Sorry. Sorry. I get extremely nervous around company. I was gonna hide all day, but Maestro insisted that I… make an attempt. But I couldn’t wash all the paint out of my pinnules and hair.” She mourns the streak of cyan paint.

“No, no! I think it fits!” Emily chimes in. “And you’re not out of shape at all! You look nice just the way you are, I’m sure! Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, bathing and eating is important.”

“Concurred,” Maestro chimes in. He isn’t at all used to this sort of noise, but it’s… endearing. “With the part that you should take care of yourself, that is.”

Emily’s eyes start beaming in Maestro’s direction. “Speaking of which, Dominique told me that you saved her! Is that true? You must have a pretty special bond, for an overlord to take care of another sinner like that!”

He stops, gently sliding caviar over to Emily, since he himself had no interest in it. Dominique shifted, looking down at her hands upon the mention of it

“Dominique was going to end her life at the hands of an Exorcist… and… I did not want those things to get a victory over someone like her, so I stopped it.”

Hearing this, Emily’s heart begins to sink.

“O… oh…”

“They would have done it again if I had not made a pact with them. Her soul, and I would try to fill her afterlife in Hell with a purpose, so she would not be empty.” Maestro elaborates further while his servant pours wine. “Sorry to disappoint you, but an overlord such as myself is impossible to redeem. All overlords are. If you are here to redeem anyone, Dominique is your best option.”

Gagging in confusion at the notion, Dominique tries to keep quiet.

“I’m not… disappointed, per-se.” Emily’s shoulders slump a bit. “I still think you did a good thing, and there’s a chance for you. I’m just… mad at myself for not being able to do anything about the exterminations. I didn’t even know about them until not long ago.”

She tries, tries not to let her eyes well up so soon, but the memories are fresh. Just the simple mention of the exorcisms…

“But then I made it worse. I brought those stupid gift baskets, as if that’s an acceptable apology for genocide! I just… made things worse—!”

“And then they got better.” Maestro cuts her off. “Your voice. It inspired everyone much like Lilith did long ago. An era I was not present for, yet I felt a near recreation of it in that moment you and Miss Morningstar were trying to save all of us from that foolish media man.”

The servant quietly passes Emily a glass of wine, knowing full well she said she couldn’t drink but not at all caring. Maestro narrows his eyes and glares at him for it, shaking his head.

“It began with just one note… hear my hope,” Maestro hums softly. “I had longed to hear the voice of a real angel, an angel of music. One who motivates and inspires, igniting the passion of others.”

Emily just stares at him, blankly.

“This is to say… I am thanking you for bringing my newest inspiration.” Maestro confesses. “I will not be redeemed, but I will continue doing what I love, to match your heights.”

Poor Dominique and the Maître just feel like awkward extra wheels at this point. Emily can tell by the way they’re trying to avoid eye contact.

“That’s… nice, thank you!” The welling tears stop. She’s so flattered, but also feels so weird, and she can’t figure out why. “Are you sure you don’t want at least a future therapy session?” She raises the wine glass to her lips in an attempt to distract herself from the tension.

He chuckles. “From you? Well, if it encourages you to see me again and hear my side of the tragedy, I don’t see why not. My original plan was to invite other overlords to give their proper, due gratitude to you. Perhaps even hear another vocal performance from you.”

It didn't hit her that she actually swallowed some of the strong liquid until then. A strange mixture of grapes, acidity, and… it’s salty, almost like blood? Definitely intended for the palette of a demon rather than an angel.

Looking at Dominique from across the table, Emily watches her staring at a plate of small fishes, poking their eyes out with a fork one by one.

Emily was starting to feel a little sick.

“Well! I better get back to Heaven before my sister starts to worry!” She giggles, getting up from her seat and opening her wings. “Sorry to take time away from your girlfriend-partner-roommate, but it was really, really nice to properly meet you! I’ll think about your suggestion, maybe you can have a big party and I’ll come visit!”

“Girlfriend?” Maestro raises a brow while Dominique choked on a fish eye.

“Okay, see yaaaaaaa!”

With that, Emily takes a portal back to heaven as fast as she can.

Notes:

For those who didn't read the one-shot I wrote before, Dominique is genderfluid but lacks dysphoria. He/she/they are just whatever in that moment.

Love triangle tag is here for two reasons if it isn't evident.

Chapter 4: Amore

Summary:

Emily accidentally drank some demon wine, and Maestro is confronted by his servants in regards to how he acted.

Her flight is a little staggered from just a single sip of wine… curse being a lightweight.

Emily tries to go to bed, her head pounding, stomach in knots from the encounter she just had. The creepy elk doll is still on her bed, something she covers up with a pillow.

“Emily?”

It isn’t long until Sera checks on her. It seemed her awkward flight pattern and bright red face left fellow angels concerned. Saint Peter is probably the one who tipped Sera off about it.

“Are you alright? Did something happen during your… part-time job?” Sera had no good way of wording Emily’s help at the Hazbin Hotel. She didn’t entirely approve of it, but considering circumstances, the most she could do was let go and support Emily’s wishes.

“I got invited out,” Emily confesses, trying to hide her face. It’s pointless though, as Sera lifts her and feels her warm forehead. “I drank something weird by accident. It’s not poisonous, or anything, it’s just…”

Sera sighs, gently stroking her younger sister’s hair. “What in God’s name made you do that?”

“It was getting a little awkward, so I distracted myself and wasn’t paying attention!” Emily explains. “I… I didn’t expect a sinner down there to be so grateful and inspired by me. I think he wants me to come back, so others can thank me too. I want to try to be like Charlie and redeem him, but he also says it isn’t possible, and I just… I’m not used to it!”

It’s normal for Sera to be protective and sternly forbid such a thing. She already was so upset that Emily had injured herself trying to save others, but the younger sister kept wanting to help Charlie’s vision.

“What do I do? I’ve never felt so unsure of myself. I know I should be happy about this development and just go, but…”

… She should stop this. This sinner could be using Emily. But the way it’s worded makes it sound like something else is going on.

“You should… try and go. Support Charlie’s dream.” Sera must try her hardest, believe in the dream that Charlie and Emily have. “Surely if anyone can help bring a sinner to the light, it’s you. But if you feel uncomfortable, you come straight home. I’ll make sure you have an escort.”

An escort? 

“Next week though. So you can mentally prepare for it.” Sera suggests. “You’re clearly overwhelmed, not to mention intoxicated.” She then pulls the bed covers over Emily’s body. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure not to pick Lute for the job. I haven’t forgotten her stunt last month.”

That’s a relief at least.

Maybe her clouded, drunken mind was making things worse than they really were. Anxiety certainly was a… naughty word that Emily liked avoiding. Waiting for Sera to leave, Emily attempts to fall back asleep. But not before overturning the pillow hiding the elk doll.

She runs her fingers across its rather frightening face. Hollow eyes made of white beads, a burn mark on the side of its face. Long-legged with a fluffy tail, and a slit for its nose. Kind of cute, but not a pangolin or koala.

Before long, Emily drifts off to sleep. But even in her dreams, the image of the doll is imprinted in her mind.

---

“She didn’t even touch the food,” Maître scoffs. “That’s the last time I prepare a meal for an angelic guest. At least Dominique will have leftovers that last them a month.”

Maestro, perplexed, swishes around his own wine glass. “Did I say something to frighten the girl, you think?”

“Think? You absolutely did, sir.” Maître begins finishing off the abandoned wine bottle, chugging it down. “I mean, no sane angel would react to a murderous overlord sharing his borderline romantic confession with smiles and rainbows.”

“Romantic?” Maestro’s eyes widened, going between that and how Emily referred to Dominique as a partner, he realizes how things seem. “No, no, my intentions were not…”

“Sir? Do you like her?” Dominique nervously interrupts him. “If so, she probably got scared ‘cause of me. Maybe I stared too much by accident.”

“I don’t—” Maestro keeps stammering, irritated as the flames on his head expand. “I was simply showing my gratitude, nothing more! Trying to be pleasant, especially since I’ve been such a rut! A musical art block! That and at least humor her on some of that redemption, even if I know my chances are zero!”

The servant and the artist just glance at each other in silence. Neither of them seem to be buying it.

Frustrated, Maestro takes the napkin off of his lap, burns it before throwing the ashes down, and storms off to his quarters to be alone. He’s so literally burned up over the matter that he doesn’t even think to lock his door.

Straight to the list of compositions he’s made recently. He reviews them over, checking each note and the lyrical lines that go with it.

“Preposterous,” Maestro growls. “I am not…”

Squinting, he clenches his fists, crumpling and tearing the lyric sheet upon examination before burning the remnants with the lit candle on his work desk. He then takes out a new lyric sheet and starts over, pulling a feather pen and ink well out of the drawer.

He refuses to have the other overlords twist this into him being… in love.

…

Briefly the tattered mask which covers his skull, Maestro’s fingers trail on the tenderness underneath.

Even if he were, even if that angel believed in redemption so much that someone like him could change for another, there’s a permanent scar that tells him he can never undo what had been done in his life. It’s not possible.

Should he hide his compositions of passion? Or revel in them as he always had in life, and burn whoever gave him backlash? No! He did not fear judgement from those other fools!

He would invite them to the next overlord meeting, and show his compositions! Lyrics? Whatever. Emily most likely won’t come back after that if what the servant said is true—

Oh. Never mind. There’s no more ink in the well.

Sighing and getting up from his chair, Maestro gives up for now. Undressing himself of his suit and preparing to slide into a fancy robe so he could go to bed. Getting worked up like that exhausts him, mentally and physically.

Just as he starts to pull the bed sheets back and climb in, the door opens.

“Hey, sir—”

Dominique stands there, wincing at the sight of Maestro and his open robe, nothing else underneath it.

“Ah! Sorry!” She stutters, turning her head but not fully looking away. 

“Dominique… is there something else you needed from me?” Maestro growls.

“I uh, wanted to apologize for what happened back there earlier. I think it was my fault that Emily girl scampered off and got spooked.” Dominique begins scratching her arms nervously. “I know that even dolling me up to look nice, I kinda can’t change… me. So I’ll just, visit my friend during your next overlord meeting, if Emily decides to—”

“Stop blaming yourself.” Maestro scolds. “What did I tell you about the self-loathing and pitying behavior?”

She fidget, her overbite tugging her lower lip. “Right, sorry. I’ll just hide either way.”

“Whether you hide or decide to join us, is up to you. All I ask is that if you attend,” he notes the stain of paint on the chemise dress. “That we find something else nice for you. I see you vomited on that one.”

“I freaked out after you left, sir!” Dominique retorts.

More paint is leaking from where her nose would be. Maestro hesitates, then suddenly reaches his left hand for Dominique’s chin, lifting it just an inch before his thumb presses against her overbite.

“I ran out of ink, my dear.” Maestro says, taking the inkwell bottle in his right. “May I have some of yours?”

“Ah… sure.”

Black ink begins pooling from Dominique’s mouth, slowly cascading into the ink bottle. Dominique’s tongue briefly protrudes, brushy, covered in bristles in appearance.

“That enough, sir?” She treats it like a normal routine for the two of them.

But this time it wasn’t so normal, because Maestro continued holding her there, seemingly lost in thought.

“Sir?”

He begins to imagine someone else’s face in his hands. Someone… softer, with longer hair.

Dominique doesn’t try to stop it or snap him out of it, as if anticipating something. A full two minutes pass before Maestro feels the paint on his thumb, remembering who is really in his grasp.

Maestro pulls his hands away. There seemed to be a near hopeful glimmer in Dominique’s eyes, but it’s gone now.

“Thank you. Good night, Dominique.”

She doesn’t respond, slowly trudging toward the door and leaving.

Notes:

Tbh with the way this fic is going in my backlog, poly route is possible, I just dunno if Dominique could adjust to Emily's extroverted personality and there's also the matter of [spoiler character for next chapter but the tags already let the cat out the bag].

Chapter 5: Allegro

Summary:

This time, Emily barges into an overlord meeting by accident.

Second time’s the charm! 

Emily felt even more motivated than she did last time, albeit still very nervous. She would drop in for some surprise therapy, get that guy to talk about whatever his past was, lift the weights off his shoulders! This time, she wouldn’t be alone either, so things would surely be less weird!

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Abel stammers. “I mean, I’m the son of Adam and all, the guy in charge of the exorcisms and purging, what if they hate me? Couldn’t Sera have sent someone more qualified?”

“No way!” Emily retorts, steadily approaching the theater after taking a portal down to Hell. “You stopped Lute from sabotaging everything! If you hadn’t stepped up, so many sinners would have perished for good! I’m sure Maestro will understand.” In the midst of fluttering, Emily notices some unfamiliar cars parked… along with a horse made of cactus parts.

Wait, didn’t Maestro say he was inviting other overlords over the next time Emily came to visit? Did he know she was coming? Or was it just a coincidence?

The man at the door isn’t there, but it’d be rude to just let herself in, so Emily knocks and waits patiently.

The servant didn’t open the door, but to Emily’s surprise—

“Oh! Well if it isn’t… Emily, right?” Alastor greets her.

“Alastor, yes? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the hotel?” Emily asks the radio demon.

“Well, there’s an overlord meeting going on at the Maestro’s little theater, and I’m required to pop in whenever those happen! But he tends to use it as an excuse to just show off his new compositions.” Alastor laughs. “It’s quite ridiculous! He has his own fans, why does he need us to act as an audience? Though, he has been talking quite a bit about you!”

Emily winces, her freckles turning a different color from her blush. “Oh, has he? Uh, what is he saying?” She then remembers Abel is still with her, and immediately regrets asking.

“He’s been blabbering and arguing with Zeezi on how we should be playing nice and welcoming you to stop by more often.” Alastor then emits some mild radio static. “Speaking of which, I really should pay her and the others back for the way they talked about me when I was pretending to be captured…”

“Leee~eeet’s not do that! Okay?” Emily shimmies past him, witnessing various overlords. Two of them watching Maestro and Zeezi have their argument while two others stand off to the side.

The ones on the sidelines, one resembling a ballerina and one resembling a spider, notice Emily. The latter grins at her, taking a bow. Knowing well enough manners, she curtsies back and Abel bows in turn before they approach Maestro, trying to play the piano in the middle of his bickering.

“Uh, hi!” Emily forces a smile. “Good to see you again, Maestro!”

Startled, Maestro slams the wrong note. “Emily? I didn’t expect to see you again after last time.”

“You didn’t?”

“Yeah, you didn’t? You’ve been going on about her!” Zeezi barks.

Maestro coughs. “I mean, I didn’t think you would…”

“Didn’t you say something about planning to invite other overlords so they can thank me? Or my suggestion of future therapy sessions?” Her words cause Zeezi to glare at Maestro, who now looks uncharacteristically sheepish. Prick and Hatchet can hear what’s being said and start laughing.

Desperate to change the subject, Maestro notices Abel behind her. “Who is that?”

“This is Abel!” Emily happily introduces him, flying next to her fellow angel. “Since he also helped out, I thought it would be nice to—”

“He’s the guy that chased off that Exorcist angel!” Hatchet points out while slinking over to them. “He did a pretty good job too, telling that bitch to back off! I woulda shanked her for that disloyalty!”

“Oh, uh, thanks? I think?” Abel chuckles.

“Take it as a compliment from someone who’s a devout Satan worshipper, you didn’t do half-bad despite being known as the ‘good son’!” Hatchet slaps Abel on the back and starts laughing. 

Already the air is pretty awkward. And it got worse once Dominique stepped through the entrance. This time, they wore a loose-fitting, tan men’s suit, donning a braided ponytail, and they had company with them.

“Dominique,” Maestro notices. “This is supposed to be an overlord meeting, why did you bring him?”

Attention is directed to the sinner in a gas mask with perfectly combed, blonde hair. The guy looked a bit sad and miserable as Dominique held him with their arm ringing around his.

“Tom has been having a hard time lately at work,” Dominique explains. “I wanted to get him some drinks and unwind, and… your music is relaxing, sir. When you want it to be, that is—”

“Ain’t he just gonna snitch whatever happens here over to the Vees?” Prick spits, lightly jabbing Dominique. “Y’all know better than to let a news anchorman workin’ for Vox to hang around us! Especially with angels in our company! Who knows what kinda lies he’ll spread!?”

The mention of Vox leaves Emily shuddering, but… her inherent faith in others came through first. If someone was working for Vox and having a hard time, maybe they really needed the support? Although, it was Maestro’s gathering, and it would be rude to impede.

Emily passes a glance to Maestro, and he looks back at her.

“I see… I want nothing to do with Vox, but if he needs space…”

“Gramps, you can’t be serious right now!” A playful nickname from Zeezi, but her tone is rather serious.

“Hold on!” Emily finally interjects. “Um, as someone who was also nearly killed by Vox… I think we should give him a chance at least. If he’s frustrated at his work, taking it out on him isn’t going to help things, right? Maybe we should hear him out, and encourage him to terminate his employment?”

While Abel nods along, Maître just scoffs and laughs. “You really have no idea how contracts with overlords work do you?” The servant mutters, putting down a platter of snacks on the table that Zeezi rushes over to demolish.

With that, Maestro continues playing, relenting while Dominique brings their guest to the side for drinks. Emily watches the pair, endeared by the act of kindness, then turns to Maestro. “Sorry if you weren’t expecting me! I decided I was going to pick up directly where we left off!”

“Is that so?” Maestro keeps his eyes closed, memorizing the composition he made by heart. “I’m normally not willing to talk about my history in front of others, I hope you realize.”

He seems a little more distant compared to how welcoming he was last time. He also keeps passing glances at Abel, who by now got dragged off to the side by Hatchet and Prick, both who ask him about his brother.

Oh! It must be because there are so many people here. Maybe he’s embarrassed or nervous with the crowd? More focused on his performance? That’s Emily’s first thought, but then she notices Alastor’s shadow close to her and Maestro…

Well, unlike Charlie, Emily kind of knew time and place and how to set boundaries. Especially after her experiences with Sir Pentious where she needed to give him space to adjust rather than bombarding him.

“Alastor,” she says, “do you mind?”

“Mind what?”

Emily pouts. “Not using whatever history Maestro has hidden for your entertainment?” She got more than enough info about the radio demon from Vaggi and Lucifer.

“My dear, that is not the entertainment I am getting from here tonight. I could care less about whatever murder story Maestro has hidden under his tailcoat!” Alastor cackles. “As a staff member of the hotel, I’m just making sure he won’t try anything unsavory. Looking out for your safety! After all, I would never hear the end of it from the others if something happened.”

Maestro twitches and stands up from the piano bench. The piano continues playing through his power, akin to a poltergeist taking control. 

“Yes well… my antlers will always be bigger than yours, radio demon.”

And then Maestro just leaves with that as his sole retort, with Alastor looking totally unfazed.

Notes:

I wanted to do the antler bit for a while now.

Chapter 6: Requiem

Summary:

Upon being confronted by himself, Maestro is more than willing to tell Emily his backstory…

“You doing okay, Tom?”

Dominique and Abel watch over the co-anchorman, piling every glass he can down the nozzle down his mask. Prick and Hatchet and chanting for him to chug.

“Earlier, you sounded like you really couldn’t take it—”

“I can’t, Dominique, I really can’t anymore!” Tom Trench snaps. “It’s bad enough being abused on and off the set you know? I can sometimes maybe enjoy the humiliation, but ever since Vox has gone off air Katie has somehow gotten worse! She’s blaming me for everything! The dip in ratings, Vox’s plan failing, losing her audience members, and now that Valentino guy has gotten in on shoving me around!”

Dominique takes a sip on their own, only to start leaking paint from their mouth. “Don’t I keep telling you to stand up to her? Rise! Where’s your anger? Where’s your fuckin’ rage? Rise!”

“You know I’m under contract, I can’t!”

“Didn’t Vox get his head ripped off anyway?” Dominique points out. “Valentino is in charge of the company and station now, yeah? Are you contracted to obey him too? If you aren’t, then fight the system!”

Tom stops drinking.

“I… I don’t know. I didn’t think about that.”

“Then try!” Dominique sighs. “Anyway, things have been kinda hard for me too if you haven’t noticed. I was gonna keep hiding like I normally do, but… Maestro…”

Double-checking, Dominique now sees that Prick and Hatchet, already wasted, started sucking face after egging Tom Trench on. Poor Abel was just standing there the entire time, looking concerned.

“What about him?” Tom asks, trying to hear his only friend out.

“I think Maestro wants that girl,” Dominique mutters. “It kind of hurts. I’ve known him longer, but it’s her voice that inspires him.”

There’s an awkward pause between the two unlikely friends. Tom ends up passing one of the unfinished drinks to Dominique, which they clear in seconds.

“He inspired me too, and he doesn’t know it. Or he does but… I’m me. Not an angel.”

Scratching his head, Tom Trench thinks about it. Part of him is thinking about this information in general, but he also recognizes that Dominique seems to be at a loss themselves.

“So, he just likes that girl for her voice? Train yours, if that’s the case.” Tom suggests. “Everyone around here breaks out into musical numbers, but you’ve always been the odd exception, preferring to hide from the rest. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t considered you? Test the waters.”

“I’ll throw up if I do something like that—”

Another drink is forced on Dominique.

“Tom… I only really like certain drinks.” Dominique swallows hard. “The rest, my body can’t handle, I prefer soft stuff, like soda and…”

“Look, if you want to get past your anxiety and depression, you need to loosen up! You want me to show my rage? Show yours too! Protect your keep from this interloper… or something like that!” Tom tries to encourage them, patting Dominique on the back as they try to push the drinks down.

They gag, spewing a bit of paint in the process.

“But Tom, I only know a few songs from like… Queen or Meat Loaf, or…”

Abel then left them to their devices.

---

Behind the theater curtains, that is where Maestro had retreated. It didn’t take long at all for Emily to find him, given his fiery presence illuminating most of the halls.

“I’m sorry,” Emily apologizes after catching up. “I didn’t know that no one expected me to be here. Really, I didn’t mean to make things awkward! I… I won’t press you anymore if you don’t want me to—”

“No.”

Maestro spins around, his hand on his mask.

“Maybe this is good… I have not told anyone of what hides behind this mask. Metaphorically and literally.” He sighs. “I will tell you all there is to know about the man I used to be. Repent. I do not expect forgiveness or redemption, but… I do not wish to keep hiding from things out of fear for my reputation.”

He begins peeling it off, a horrible, wet, fleshy noise can be heard as the mask is removed. 

Emily instinctively winces at the moist sounds, then gasps and draws back when she sees a chunk of his brain completely exposed on the top left side of his skull.

“Expecting some sort of burn mark, weren’t you? Well, it isn’t far off from what caused this drastic change.” Maestro chuckles. “Much like you, I have had to replace a part of myself with a prosthetic.” He leans down and gently touches Emily’s golden wing. “Except while yours was made from sacrificial acts of kindness, I made mine from my own selfishness…”

He doesn’t put the mask back on. Emily tries to avert her gaze, but Maestro isn’t letting it happen, cupping her chin as he did with Dominique, so she is forced to look at it.

“It’s an ugly truth, isn’t it? A scar created from my final act of murder. But let me tell you how the first went about.” He releases her, watching as she doesn’t move. “I was an only child, who lost both his parents in a horse carriage accident at night. They say the horses got spooked by something on the road. With them gone, I was sent to a strict boarding school for the rest of my youth, under the care of my tutor.”

Maestro touches the area around his brain, making Emily flinch again.

“Since my father had been a talented musician, my tutor sought to bring the same talents out of me. A cruel matriarch, who didn’t hesitate to slap me for each mistake. Only perfection was allowed, and I could not be beaten by anyone.” He stops touching it, tickled by Emily’s disgust. “When I became of age and learned that my tutor had planned to give me her inheritance, proud of me for coming so far, I hatched a simple plan. Pay her back for her ‘kindness’…”

The flames surrounding his head flicker, casting the shadow of a piano and a woman having her head crushed under the lid.

“Easy enough to frame as an accident. I inherited everything, pursued my career with her fortune. I thought I was ready for the rest of the world, mastering the violin, the piano, the organ, until I made my own compositions!… I was loved by many… but the vocal minority?” Maestro scoffed. “They got under my skin, and I could only see her, criticizing me from beyond the grave.”

The shadow fades away.

“My second kill was an accident despite the first having full intention. I argued with the critic reprimanding me when we were alone. Without even thinking, I pushed him down into the orchestra pit, and he broke his neck.” Maestro smirks at the memory. “When I realized I had gotten away with it and no one had suspected a second time, I wondered how good am I? Was I secretly as talented at killing as much as I was at music? It certainly felt like I had a knack for it.”

He begins to pace— no, he’s prancing around Emily like a deer, joyously remembering what he had done.

“One who thought I could use more woodwind instruments and that I was too bombastic, so I had him choke on a clarinet. Another had been impaled by the bow of a cello. A third had been choked by the strings of a harp. All of these were framed just well enough to seem like accidents or some random foul play!”

The shadows cast then change to the shape of a woman.

“But then, I broke the norm with one particular critic. A young woman, who I wanted as a vocalist in my composition for an opera… only to turn me down in favor of another, believing his work to be better than mine.” Maestro growls. “My plan would go a bit different that time, I thought I could knock out two birds with one stone. Follow them to the man’s isolated home, and while they speak of his work, I torched the place…”

Maestro stops, closing his eyes.

“I did not know gin was flammable. I studied music and not chemistry. So when the fire I started made contact with the man’s open liquor cabinet there was… a bit of an explosive reaction.” His brain pulsates on reflex. “It fell on me, breaking my skull open. I went unconscious while the couple escaped the burning home. By the time I had woken up, I had been left behind and could not escape the building. Forgotten, unable to move, left behind to the pit of hell I created for myself.

“Tell me, my fair angel,” Maestro speaks in a mocking tone, “with all of that said and done, do you still think I can be redeemed?”

…

“Yes.”

Notes:

Happy Thanksgiving!

Had to do a bit of research on the era he fits in. Maestro is one of the few characters with an older type phone as opposed to a smart phone, and orchestra conductors peaked during late 19th century to early 20th century… so he was probably born some time in the 1860s, then probably died in the 1910s, making him about 50+.

Old man. :)

… this is of course all speculative headcanon. Maybe we'll get a canon Maestro backstory that nukes all of this lol.

Chapter 7: Dolore

Summary:

Emily stands firm, showing no fear when Maestro confesses his crimes.

In return, comes to terms more with his feelings for the seraph girl before she leaves him yet again.

He draws back in shock, confusion, completely baffled. So much so that he ends up dropping his mask to the floor.

“What…?”

“I said yes, I still think despite all of that, you could be redeemed!” Emily exclaims, tightening her fists and furrowing her brow.

“I killed— murdered others—”

Maestro backs up, but Emily spreads her wings, towering above the overlord.

“You were created into one! A pivotal example of nature versus nurture!” Emily retorts. “You live your life without the parents who loved you and get put under an abusive household that expects perfection out of you? Of course you were going to snap and go down a path! Weren’t you from the late 19th or early 20th century?”

“Yes, but—”

“Therapy and mental health treatment were terrible back then! And compared to others in your time?” Adam had probably exterminated some of the worst from that era at this point. “I’m not saying you’re a victim, but this was entirely preventable, and therefore, you have a chance!”

Maestro continues backing away, past the backstage curtains and toward the front. He nearly falls, but Emily catches him by holding his hands, pulling him to her, no longer afraid or disgusted by his face.

“It’s been hundreds of years, hasn’t it? Aren’t you tired at all? Hasn’t it been long enough? You went as far as to save a life down from being exorcised… you must be, surely. You don’t enjoy killing if it isn’t something that triggers a response in you! And let me repeat what I said before: I believe in the capacity for good inside of each and every one of you overlords!”

His vision blurs, cyan flames flicker from his eye sockets.

Is he… crying?

“Wait— I’m not overwhelming you again, am I?”

With no sign of reluctance, Emily reaches for his face with her right hand, but her wrist is quickly grabbed by him.

The soft piano music continues to echo throughout the theater, playing without Maestro. They are standing on the stage, alone. 

“This is… the piece I made after being inspired by you,” Maestro says, taking her hands. “Soft, melodic, evolving into something grand as it progresses. You have shown me not once, but twice, that your cheery exterior hides a light that can shine through Hell’s darkest depths.”

A shift to the left, then a shift to the right as he pushes forward little by little.

“I… would like to hear your singing voice again.” He holds her and turns around, almost as if they were in a dance. “I burned the lyric sheet I was working on, but in hindsight, I would rather the lyrics come from you directly. So please, just one more time… maybe that could lead me to be—”

“Believe…”

Emily starts before Maestro can even process it.

“I need you to believe,

Hold my hand,

Have faith that you can change…”

A gentle dance, one who was too tall and the other who used her wings to match his movements and height.

“I know that by the end,

You can be…”

The fluttering of wings can be heard vibrating this time. Maestro is too lost in the moment, but Emily recognizes it, stopping her song.

“Emily!”

She spins again, on her own, letting go of Maestro’s hands.

“There you are!” Abel chimes in. “Uh, things are getting a little weird out there. Maybe we should go back before Sera gets worried?” He hovers a bit closer, retching, his face twisting once he sees Maestro’s exposed brain. “Whoa! Uh, you okay there pal?”

Exposed, Maestro can only stand there, not having the strength to pick his mask back up for some strange reason. 

His wrists shake just a bit, watching Abel stand so close to Emily—

Taking her hand. The hand that Maesto had been holding just moments ago, losing the warmth that was just there, left hanging and empty.

Maestro can’t even hear what they are saying. Emily looks happy, but using her watery powers, she creates a portal and begins to leave with the fellow angel, who looks at Maestro with worried eyes.

Who… why…?

They disappear into the portal. The flames on Maestro burn brighter.

Redeemed. Those were the missing words taken from both of their breaths.

A furious scream escapes him, akin to an elk trying to bugle. He starts knocking down the music sheet standee, along with various candles, which fizzle out the second he makes contact with them.

In the midst of his fit of rage and sorrow, a loud cracking noise is heard. Maestro turns, looking at the candles and the standee, seeing nothing had broken—

He moves his small, hoof-like feet and faintly hears the noise once again. Maestro looked down at his long, thin legs, seeing what was sitting there.

His mask had been broken in half.

---

Maestro hurries back out to the main dining hall, using a handkerchief to cover the broken part of his skull. Hatchet and Prick were practically on the floor rolling around on top of each other with no one stopping them, besides Zeezi filming it on her phone.

He spots Dominique by the drinking table next to Tom Trench, the former looking out of it.

“Dominique!” Maestro calls out to them. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need you to fix my mask!”

They mutter, trying to sing, struggling to raise their voice, barely acknowledging Maestro. “I’m never gonna make it withoooo~oout you, do you really wanna see me cra~aaawl?” Dominique hums in a slurred speech.

He stops, processing the situation before glaring at Tom Trench.

“Makin’ loooo~ooove outta nothin’ at all—”

“What the hell did you do?”

“Uh, nothing! They were helping me loosen up, so I thought I would return the favor—”

Maestro, infuriated further, grabs Tom Trench by his collar. He knew he shouldn’t have graced this insect.

“Get out,” Maestro whispers, being personal with Tom. “I don’t know what you’re planning by getting Dominique drunk, but I’ll be having none of your usual problems! Now get the fuck out!” Carrying the much shorter sinner, Maestro carries him over to the door. “Maître, the door! And when you’re done, bring Dominique to their chambers to rest!”

The servant, more than happy to do so, opens the theater doorway so that Maestro can throw Tom Trench out. However, he wasn’t so thrilled with helping Dominique back on their feet after. He would normally bark back and ask why Maestro couldn’t do it himself, but he noted his boss’s current temper.

Carmilla and Zestial thankfully beat the servant to the punch, reading the situation after having a lengthy conversation. Carmilla goes to help Dominique on their feet and hand them a napkin for the inevitable paint puking. Maître, appreciating the help, guides Carmilla and Dominique to the artist’s quarters.

By contrast, Zestial, more concerned about the host, slides to Maestro’s side and puts a hand to his shoulder. “Art thou alright, Maestro? What has happened to thine mask?” He also noticed that the guests had made themselves scarce. “And what of fair Emily?”

“I do not want to talk about it,” Maestro growls.

…

“I see, would thou prefer I ask the others to leave?” Zestial suggests. “The radio demon departed, discomforted by the current display, if thou is curious.”

Silently, Maestro gives a slight nod.

Understanding the assignment, Zestisl glides over to Prick and Hatchet. Simply opening his cloak and glaring bloody red daggers at them is enough to end the fighty, slobbery make-out-session without even needing to say the words: ‘cut that shit out’. 

Hatchet, being faster, is first to bolt, opening the wings hidden in his back and flying out the window, breaking it in the process. Prick meanwhile, covered in draconic bite marks and stuck with his pants hanging around his ankles, struggles to get away from the spider-like overlord.

“Aww, piss!” Zeezi groans, ceasing her filming to pass a glance at Maestro. “Well, not for nothing, gramps, I may be your friend but I’m not staying for your personal angel-related drama!” She spins on her heel, her tail swishing as she exits. “Good luck on your love life or whatever.”

Arrogant youth…

That’s what Maestro wanted to say to her, but he refused to waste the energy. His rage should not be directed at his friends.

Notes:

Mwahahaha, you get TWO updates as a Thanksgiving treat! >:)

Poor Abel accidentally stepped into the "coding himself as Raoul" trap, haha.

The reason I refer to Maestro as a demon elk rather than a deer like Alastor, is because of the bugling… bull elks are known for SCREAMING to defend their territory and attracting females, which fits his character for this story.

But if he ends up actually being another deer demon, no big deal lol.

Chapter 8: Fermata

Summary:

Maestro and Zestial have a conversation about Emily.

Oh, and Tom Trench quits.

By the time everything settles down, Maestro and Zestial are alone, the latter asking Maître to prepare some tea to calm the air. 

They both stare at the broken mask, laying on the tea table.

“‘Twas it the angels that did this?”

Maestro pauses, shaking his head. “I stepped on it in a fit of rage. Emily did nothing of the sort.”

“And the other one?”

He shifts uncomfortably. Zestial can see Maestro’s expression sour.

“I don’t know why she invited him as some sort of escort,” Maestro mutters. “Emily told me things, started to sing for me, and then he showed up. The random interloper.” He glances at his hands. “Took her away from me.”

Maestro realizes his slip far too late. He tries to avoid Zestial’s gaze.

“Thou seems quite fond of this young lady.”

His fingers curl, trying to clench into a fist. “She told me something I had never heard in my afterlife, or my normal human life, Zestial. That while I am not a victim, I could be redeemed given the circumstances of my upbringing and era. She believes I am not as bad as others from my century. Can you believe that?”

Zestial hesitates, pondering over the idea.

“In my opinion… I grow tired, and I assume thou hast well. Hundreds of years as the most powerful overlords, and we now wonder: could things be different if we had been born in a different time?” The spider overlord begins to smile. “The angel has a point. Sir Pentious was a man of the 19th century, yet he is first to be redeemed.”

So, maybe the circumstances of the sin and the time period do matter…

“She started to sing to me when I asked her, telling me I should believe in myself rather than accepting the mask I wear as a villain, and that’s when that bastard came along, pulled her out of our dance.” Maestro begins to open up as the tea arrives, hating that the servant would have to hear this. “I longed to find my angel of music in life, and believed it to be a mere fantasy when I came to Hell— so why? Why is this happening?”

“I do not know.” Zestial answers, accepting the cups of tea while the elegant pot is laid next to them.

“Her prosthetic, my face— I revealed it, and she didn’t run from the hideous truth! I must—”

“Maestro,” Zestial narrows his eyes while blowing on his tea, “settle down.”

“I want to keep her here at my side! Away from that annoying little man and anyone else in Hell who dares to gawk at me for what I—!”

“Thou would be keeping a caged bird for her song!” Zestial stands up straight, his eyes red as his cloak opens up. “Thou dares to risk another war with heaven where the angels strike us down!?” 

…

They both stop, with Zestial withdrawing, sitting back down and sipping his tea peacefully while Maestro laid his head in his palms, recollecting himself.

“You’re… you’re right.” Maestro groans. “I’ve never had to deal with these complicated feelings before. I guess I’m not mentally equipped to handle it, just as Emily said. But what should I do? I had already scared her off the first time.”

“Nothing,” Zestial says after a long sip. “Thou say you frightened her? Yet she came back, albeit with company. I assume that in her pure heart, she shall return once again.”

Right.

That would have to do… just, being patient.

“Thank you, Zestial.” Maestro caves in, grabbing the tea cup that had been left for him.

“‘Tis hardly a problem.” Zestial finishes his own cup, putting it back on the saucer. “I suppose it does not help that Rosie hath not been present in recent times while Zeezi refuses to lend an ear.” It was tempting for him to ask about Maestro’s other acquaintances, but Zestial assumes the subject cannot be brought up to them the same way due to the power Maestro had over them.

Carmilla returns, claiming that the artistic sinner has been successfully put to bed, but not before calling her ‘mommy’. Dominique was the same age as her daughters, so Carmilla didn’t mind it so much, but Zestial couldn’t help but chuckle and mutter something about how he ‘cannot blame them for that one’.

After that, the couple of overlords leave, and Maestro remains to stir in his thoughts throughout the night.

---

“Well, Tom, another day another fuck-all to report on today’s news other than angels being seen helping the Trashbin Motel!”

Tom Trench sits there quietly, letting Katie Killjoy finish. His hands are clasped together, sitting over the table while the more colorful anchorwoman goes off over some crude drawings that had been doodled over the now famous hotel.

He’s not even really listening to whatever conspiracy theory the others cooked up to make the hotel bad. He had the truth about one of those angels, which would make for an infinitely more interesting story, but Tom knows no one will hear him out.

In fact, he had already prepared. Tom had snatched something in anticipation, remembering what his friend had told him last night before he was thrown out.

Katie Killjoy takes a sip of her coffee, then turns to face her co-anchorman, spitting it out all over him.

“Tom! I said no fucking decaf! What the fuck is this crap!? I can’t drink this!” She then chucks the rest of the cup at his head. “I asked for a latte, not a lotta shit!”

He’s unfazed. Doesn’t flinch at the hot liquid being spit and tossed his way like he normally would when this happened.

“You can’t even order a fucking coffee from a donut hole shop right? Is there anything you can do!?”

Again, unbothered, he just grabs a napkin to wipe himself down before going through his bag.

“As a matter of fact, Katie, there is something I can do!” He tries to put on the best, enthusiastic showman voice he can. “I could give you all the real story on what this visiting angel has been up to, but…!”

He slams an envelope on the desk.

“This is my letter of resignation! You can roll it up into a tight little wad and stick up your vagina, Katie!”

“… What—?”

“That’s right folks! No more Tom Trench on this news channel!” Tom then shoots up out of his chair. “You want my truth nukes? You’re gonna have to look online, because I’m going into solo journalism from now on!”

“Wait, what are you— the hell are you talking about!?” Katie grabs him by the arm as he begins to leave with his bag. “You can’t quit, bitch! Did you forget? Vox fucking owns you!”

“Gee, you’re sure right, Katie! But I think you’re forgetting one teeny-tiny thing—”

The eyes on his gas mask bug out, bulging, turning red. Insect-like wings sprout from his back and his hands become hairy.

“Vox is just a fucking head! Duct taped to Valentino and Velvette’s wall, right now as we speak!” He cackles, his voice distorted from his change of form. “Don’t believe me? Oh, I can expose that easily. I confirmed it before I pulled this little stunt, Katie, I took photos! Vox may be the boss of me, but Valentino sure as fuck isn’t! I’m not getting pushed around by you or a trashy pimp, and I'm not sticking around to the point where I'm gonna be made to shoot porno flicks!”

Pressing a button, he begins to show off various images of Vox’s current state, mounted on the wall via duct tape. Various gasps can be heard from the audience, even the cameramen are baffled as to how the hell Tom got ahold of the slides.

The fly-like sinner leaves while Katie is off guard, knowing that her own demonic transformation could overpower him if he stayed any longer. He can see Ethan trying to stop him, but it’s so easy to buzz past that pushover.

“What the fuck just happened!?”

“How much of that did you get?”

“Cut the feed! Stop the fucking cameras!”

“Security!”

Velvette and Valentino take way too long to show up. Tom Trench is already out the door, speeding away with his wings. Katie Killjoy curses him from afar, changing to her arachnid form to chase him, but she isn’t fast enough.

They’re all so flustered that they don’t even realize that Tom had stolen one of Velvette’s special love potions.

Notes:

You thought an arc akin to actual Phantom was coming for Maestro, but INSTEAD I SUBVERTED THE EXPECTATION!!… thanks to Zestial talking down to him that is lol. If he wasn't there, I imagine Maestro wouldn't have backed down, idk. Carmilla maybe could have tried to get through!

I thought it would be cool if outside of… randomly igniting on fire, Tom was actually a fly in his true form. If he died in a war, the only thing that would find his body for a while would be flies. And his mask is his actual face that won't come off, flies kind of have that face, bulging eyes with a proboscis. Combine that with his submissive personality, and I think I did an okay job.

Katie, I almost wanted to change her into a scorpion sinner for this fic. She's some kind of arachnid, it's not clear what, but I felt like "yet another spider" might be boring? I didn't have time to elaborate on her though.

I'm sure the Tom scenes are gonna be like… super cathartic for people who don't like Katie. I think she's hilarious, but honestly? While I doubt it would happen in the show, I would love to see Tom go through redemption through the hotel, originally serving as another mole to the Vees, only to turn around and go "fuck it, they're nicer to me than you guys are".

It's not happening in this fic, I have other plans for him… but hey, there's free fic fuel for you guys. :P

Chapter 9: Segue

Summary:

Emily figures out her own feelings after talking with Abel and Sera, then asks Vaggi for some help!

“And… what was he like?”

Abel stands there awkwardly, presenting himself before Sera on his own in her chamber.

“Well, overlords have a certain reputation, but if you ask me he seemed rather nice with Emily. Older, gentlemanly type of guy! Was slow dancing with her while she was singing. It sounded like she really believes that he can be redeemed!” He then coughs. “But uh, he kinda gave me a weird look. I don’t think he likes me all that much for some reason.”

Sera sighs, holding her forehead.

“You’re… thinking what I’m thinking too, huh?” Abel chuckles nervously.

“I am, and I don’t like it, but I also want to believe to make up for what I have done.”

“Maybe stop putting it in that lens?” Abel suggests. “Maybe instead of ‘I messed up really badly and want to make it up to the sinners’, try ‘is my sister happy with this development and want to pursue it’? These things are complicated!” He elaborates further, in a surprisingly eloquent way. “If you fear it’s just a case of Emily wanting to fix someone, you should discourage her lightly, because it’s gonna cause conflicting emotions. But if it’s mutual, why not tell her to take a dive?”

“Unlike you… Emily and I are seraphims, not human-made angels. And we seraphims… do not experience these things, ever.”

“Then that’s more of a reason, isn’t it?” Abel continues. “I never got to experience romantic love when I was alive, sure, but you two have never experienced it your entire existence.”

Sera does have some more concerns however. This sinner was in his fifties? Did he know Emily was a seraphim? She’s an adult, she can do what she wants, she is probably older than this man by technicality, yet Sera can’t help but worry. Either way there might be a mild power imbalance, just from the simple idea of someone once a human turned demon, falling in love with a seraphim…

“You uh, wanna go have a talk with her? I can come with you.”

---

They leave the chamber, and look for Emily outside. It takes a while, since she isn’t in her room, so Sir Pentious has to point them over to the small bridge over the river. Apparently, he told Emily that when contemplating about another person, that’s where he went to reminisce.

She holds the creepy-looking elk doll, looking at it with more endearment than she had previously. Of course, for Sera and Abel, it was the first time they had even seen the weird little thing.

“Oh!” Emily notices them, trying to hide the doll close to her. “Did you two need something?”

“Emily, Abel told me a bit more about the sinner you were… trying to help. And we have some concerns.” Emily flinches at the mention. “It’s nothing bad, at least, I don’t think it will be.”

She stops hiding the elk doll from them. Sera can get a better look, seeing the scarring around its face.

“Emily, that guy you were dancing with? Maestro?” Abel sheepishly grins. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy or anything, and you weren’t uncomfortable, were you?”

“Not at all!” Emily says. “I actually felt bad having to leave him.”

“Okay, well… I think he likes you.”

“Really?” Emily perks up. “I was afraid he might be mad at me for overwhelming him emotionally. I’m trying to get better at respecting boundaries, but I also didn’t want him to just… not believe in himself just because he did bad things over a century ago!”

Sera and Abel glance at one another. Oh boy. Emily was not getting it…

“No, I mean, you know? Likes you, romantically?” Abel suggests. “I don’t know many guys that have taken your hands and slow-danced with you when alone, or look so hurt after I accidentally get in the way.”

…

Emily stares at the doll again. “Sir Pentious thought the same thing earlier, but I figured Maestro and that Dominique person were partners. It’s crossed my mind now that I review everything that happened, yeah.” She giggles. “I feel a little guilty about it. I don’t want it to seem like I’m just taking pity and only want redemption out of him. Otherwise I’d just be one of those ‘oh, I can fix him’ girls! That’s not who I am!”

Sighing in relief, Sera feels her body relax. That was another concern she had, admittedly. “Emily, how do you feel about this particular sinner? Without you and Charlie’s desire to redeem others?”

“He’s a gentleman! Unlike that jerk Vox! And while Alastor is one too, he can be a little… dubious in comparison.” Emily explains. “I told you about how I inspired him, and he showed me the composition he made.” She hesitates for a moment. “For a burning skull for a face, I find him kind of handsome I think! Long legged, cute little hooves! His hands are warm, but they don’t burn me, and he likes my new prosthetic wing—”

Abel, smirking, gently nudges Emily with his elbow. “I did see that, the on fire thing. Would you say he’s… hot?”

“Abel! Stop it!” Emily laughs, shoving him gently over his joke.

“Hey, I’m just saying, the best way to see if you like someone as much as they like you is to give it a whirl! Take him on a proper date!” He then stops, looking at Sera. “Uh, maybe not here though. Heaven is still shaken up after all that scary stuff that happened.”

Humming, Emily ponders the idea. “I’ve never been on a date though. What do I do on them?”

Problem was, Sera and Abel weren’t exactly pros on this information either.

“Uh… ask Charlie and Vaggi?” Abel shrugs.

---

Vaggi stands there at the reception desk, dumbfounded.

“And that’s why I’m here!” Emily exclaims. “I thought I could ask you for help! You and Charlie are close, and have gone on a lot of dates I’m sure! So what are some good spots in Hell? Do I need to wear anything? Do I bring a gift? Flowers? Pangolins?”

Why is it always pangolins with her?!

“You’re seriously going to try dating that guy?” Vaggi admits she had a feeling that it would lead to something like this, considering the way he acted when asking for Emily, but she didn’t anticipate Emily being the one to act when it came to going on a date. “Alright, well… I’m not gonna stop you, but first of all, if you wanna go anywhere in Hell outside the Pride Ring, you need to disguise yourself. Sinners are one thing, but other Hellborn are gonna freak if they see an angel wandering around their circles.”

She blinks.

“Ohhhh, you mean, like this?” Emily retracts all six of her wings, standing on the floor with her own two feet. The halo hovering over her head also began to shape shift, breaking in two to resemble devil horns.

Impressed, Vaggi smiles there. “Not bad, you’re getting there. Can you change the colors of your dress too maybe? And the design of it?”

“No problem!” Emily shouts, pumping her fists into the air. “Oooh, I know something that will add to the disguise! But I’m gonna save it I think! I want Maestro to see it himself!”

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, Vaggi checks her skirt pocket. “You know what? Charlie’s dad gave us some free tickets to a place called Ozzie’s. I don’t know a lot about it, apparently a friend of Lucifer’s sent him these freebies, but… with the way things are going on right now, I don’t think Charlie and I, or her dad, will get as much use out of them as you two will.”

“You really think so?” Emily asks.

“It’s a restaurant and theatre of some kind. I don’t know all the details, but it sounds like something Maestro might be into. Usually the rule is that sinners are stuck exclusively to the Pride Ring, but since you’re a seraphim that can use portals… and have VIP tickets…”

Vaggi smirks, setting the loophole into Emily’s head.

“Vaggi! I can’t thank you enough!” Emily’s eyes welled up, filled with tears of joy. She looks over the tickets, punching the coordinates of the address into her phone.

“If Maestro asks, just say you got them as payment for your hard work helping us out here. And if anyone bothers you at Ozzie’s about being sinners, you can tell the staff to stuff it and that you got special granted access from Lucifer and his daughter to have a date night.” Vaggi explains.

“Is that a lie?”

This girl was such a big stickler for following the rules and being honest, wasn’t she? Not that it bothered Vaggi, if anything, she just assumes Sera might be a little too strict of an older sister.

“I would say it’s… stretching the truth, but not an entirely false statement, is it?”

If Sera ended up getting upset, Vaggi was willing to take responsibility, but not without telling Sera to loosen up.

Notes:

Yes, I am bending the canon rules of "sinners stuck to the Pride Ring" and making it that those with portal/warping abilities can let sinners access the other rings.

Yes, I'm also bending the canon on how far seraphs may be able to change their form.

Yes, this is an excuse to have the two leads go on a date and meet Ozzie and another new character. It's just a fan-fic, but goddammit I like to at least follow the established rules and play with them for my scenarios. :D

Chapter 10: Nocturne

Summary:

Emily asks Maestro out on a date, and she brings a present.

This time, Emily, in her excitement, doesn’t even bother taking the front door and meeting with the servant. She just uses a watery portal to let herself right in the theater, much to Maître’s shock.

“Do you mind at least knocking first, Mademoiselle Emily?” Maître grumbles. “What brings you here this time? It has been only a day since you dropped in during the overlord meeting so suddenly.”

“I know, I know!” Emily bounces up and down. “But listen, I really need to talk to Maestro right now and ask him something! It’s urgent!”

With an irritated sigh, Maître yells. “Sir! Mademoiselle Emily is back to see y—”

He didn’t even finish his sentence, the door to Maestro’s private quarters swung open with flames bursting through. Once the fires had cleared, Maestro let go of the doorknob, regaining composure and charisma as he walked over.

Emily notes how his face was covered up by a towel, rather than a mask.

“Ah, did you forget something, fair Emily? You left rather suddenly with that… friend of yours, last night.”

She shakes her head. “No, I just wanted to ask two things— well, it’s three things now. What happened to your mask?”

“I… broke it after you left,” he sheepishly answers, not willing to elaborate on how or why. “Dominique will fix it after they get over their hangover.”

“I see,” Emily makes a mental note. “Is Dominique your romantic partner at all?”

While Maître is left snickering, Maestro remains as calm as he can be. “I care about them to a degree, but I am afraid not. They serve me as a companion and nothing more.”

Emily nods. “Okay, and you don’t have any romantic partners of recent in general, riii~iiiiight?”

…

Maestro is nervous, but keeps his façade up. “No, there hasn’t been anyone who I fancied in about five years or so. Why are you suddenly asking this?” He almost fears the answer, especially given the age he died.

“That’s great!” Emily cheers. “Do you want to go on a date?”

Nothing could have prepared him for that.

He had anticipated that Emily became suspicious of his actions and would find him weird, or maybe try to press him into pursuing Dominique, or maybe some other individual, but—

The goddamn servant is chuckling again.

“I think Maestro would love nothing more,” Maître chimes in before his master can. “Wouldn’t you, sir?”

Clearing his throat, Maestro leers down at Maître. “I would like to hear some more details first. Where exactly did you intend on taking me?” As much as he enjoyed tranquility, he was going to immediately reject any spaces of the heavenly variety. He knew that would just stir controversy.

“I got payment from the hotel recently in the form of some… Coupons? Vouchers? Free seats at a restaurant that has a theater!” Emily holds them up, pink in coloring, covered in hearts. “And you don’t have to worry about me sticking out due to being an angel, I already came up with a plan for that! Uh, if you want to go, that is!”

He’s pleasantly surprised. Maître glances back up at his master, nodding. “Very well, I shall accept. Three nights from now?”

“Two!” Emily chirps.

How alarmingly forward…

“Leave everything to me! I’ll see you then!” Emily giggles, disappearing into a portal made of bubbles.

He hadn’t realized it until now, but… their contrast of used elements made their dynamic unique. The gloomy, unforgiving flames of Hell, against the bubbly, beautiful holy water. Just another thing that made Maestro feel so drawn to her, being everything that he was not—

“And this is for you! Until your mask is fixed!”

Emily pops back in at the last second, holding a rather… decorative piece of some sort. She stares at Maestro again for a couple of seconds before using what strength she had to snap it in half.

“There! Hopefully it fits!” Emily flutters down to his level, handing him half of a mask. “Okay, now I’ll leave for real! See ya!”

… After a moment, Maestro takes the towel off of his face and hands it to the servant standing next to him. He examines the newly acquired mask, feeling the silver surface, coated with golden sequins. Surely not the actual metals themselves, given the weight of the mask.

He puts it on. Not as light as his original mask due to the extra flashy bits, but it succeeds in covering his brain, which is all Maestro wants. It’s rather flamboyant for certain, but if he was going out to an establishment in a couple days, it wasn’t a bad alternative. Especially since he couldn’t have his usual mask fixed right away.

“You look like you’re about to go to a parade, sir,” Maître says, holding the towel. “One of those Mardi Gras types, not the gay ones. Either way, it’s very nice of that young lady to be looking out for you.”

Indeed. He couldn’t argue with Maître on that one.

Maestro would make sure to cherish this little gift.

---

Two evenings pass… 

And true to her word, Emily returns to Maestro’s theater. Not before altering her appearance however. She wastes no time in flaunting the disguise to Maître, who gives her a few tips and points.

“Perhaps a few tatters around the bottom… yes, very good.” He then gets behind the angel. “Should I tie your hair up for you, Mademoiselle Emily? Ponytail? Twintails? A braid?”

“Do you have a headband?” Emily asks. Using the power of transformation and conjuring, she alters her dress to have dark violet colors and a tattered lower half. Not enough to reveal her legs, but it makes her look like a proper fallen sinner. The servant leaves to go fetch what she had requested.

When Maestro comes out of his quarters to see her, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that Emily is wearing the other half of the mask she had given him. “Trying to match me, are you?” He asks.

“Oh, I didn’t think you would still be wearing it, but yes! I thought it would fit the theme while hiding my identity!” Emily chirps.

Hiding her identity? Ah, that’s right. She’s from Heaven, so that might cause some discussion if they’re seen together, or simply an angel on the premises could result in panic.

“Speaking of your uh, brain thing?” He flinches when Emily brings it up. “I wanted to show you something! I always forget about it unless I’m showing my true form, so promise to be not afraid, okay?”

Be not… afraid?

Maître returns with a comb and a purple headband that matches Emily’s colors using it to pull her bangs away from her forehead—

There is a third eye there.

Startled, Maestro draws back, Emily seems equally perplexed by the reaction.

“Are you afraid for real?”

“No— er—”

Maestro coughs to clear his throat.

“Emily, are you… not a normal angel?” He wonders. “I had been under the impression that due to your size, that you were a mortal that went to Heaven upon dying and you just got into the high ranks like the apostles of Christ, or some young, wayward innocent soul. Are you actually…?”

He counted Emily’s wings. Truth be told, Maestro had studied music so much in his life that outside of the art of making church music every now and again, he hadn’t the slightest knowledge of God.

But he had heard from other sinners once that those with six wings, large and mighty, were…

“Um, I’m a seraphim, yeah. I’m just a bit smaller than the rest.” Emily informs him. “Is that a problem?”

His flaming heart skips a beat.

How could he be so stupid!? Of course a seraphim would have been strong enough to stop that stupid weapon Vox made, and that wasn’t even going into her ability to travel freely!

Yet she acted so…

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you didn’t know!” Emily slumps her shoulders. “I thought it was obvious but I should have told you sooner I guess… does that mean you want to call it off?”

Wait, what?

Maestro shakes his head, snapping out of it. “No, I’m the one who should have noticed something and am extremely flattered you offered this. I am absolutely not going to turn this down now.” 

Not only would it be rude to do so, but missing the chance of spending an evening with a seraph? He could hold that over the other overlords, especially the Vees… though, considering how Maestro liked her even before finding out—

Emily takes his arm.

“So you aren’t freaked out by my extra eyes?”

“Far from it,” he chuckles. “That just means more to stare into.”

Pouting and embarrassed, Emily gets behind Maestro and starts shoving him into a readily prepared portal, waving at Maître on the way out.

Notes:

Felt like the last chapter was just a build-up, so I did another double for you guys. :)

Chapter 11: Largo

Summary:

Maestro and Emily go to the Lust Ring to check out Ozzie's, while Tom Trench catches up with Dominique.

Notes:

Starting from this chapter, more suggestive themes start because… uh, being at Ozzie's and all. :V

Upon arriving at their destination, Emily makes sure to hide around an alleyway, making things… admittedly look rather suspicious.

The small seraph withdraws her wings. Combined with her dark dress, three eyes, and fake horns made of light, she really did look like a run of the mill demon instead of an angel.

There was a bit of the line to the lounge, but not having a care in the world, Emily darts her eyes to the much shorter route labeled ‘VIP’. Emily slinks in with her date, standing out amidst the few Hellborn demons in that section.

Maestro, having never been outside the Pride Ring, is a bit alarmed. Various imps and succubi are looking his way, and he was so used to being confined, that he would have never considered that Emily had the power to let him leave.

He looks up at the name of the restaurant— Ozzie’s? That’s what it’s called? Peculiar name. Who in the nine circles was Ozzie? Maestro tilts his head at the surrounding buildings.

Hotels, clubs, shops for underwear and toys… peep shows? And a theater labeled ‘XXX’?

Those were things associated with lust, weren’t they? So then—

“Hey!” The bouncer yells, snapping Maestro back into reality. “Sinners aren’t allowed out of the Pride Ring, what the hell are you doing here in the Lust Ring? At Ozzie’s no less!? You got some nerve!”

Emily, not taking it, holds up the VIP vouchers. “Excuse you, but we got special permission from Lucifer and the Princess of Hell for saving many residents of Hell during a disaster in Pentagram City caused by VoxTek!” Brimming with confidence, she gives them to the bouncer. “You can check for yourself, they’re legitimate! My date can also confirm what happened!”

The bouncer, hesitant, briefly goes inside with the tickets, taking the walkie-talkie off his belt to confirm something. A minute passes before he comes back.

“Alright,” he sighs, “I confirmed it with Asmodeus. He knows about that situation in the Pride Ring and says he did give vouchers to Lucifer a long time ago. If they’re yours and you didn’t steal them… then Ozzie says we can let you through.” Removing the belt blocking the entrance, the bouncer allows them to pass.

So… they were in the Lust Ring, in the House of Asmodeus.

On one hand, Maestro was mortified that someone as dignified as him— no even worse, someone as sweet as Emily brought him to such a place.

But on the other hand? Given how much Valentino had moaned in the past about wanting to visit and how Asmodeus was such an icon to him? This was nothing short of cathartic.

“Hi, welcome to Ozzie’s! I’ll bring you to your seat!” A cheerful waitress brings the couple in, either not caring who the sinners were or intentionally putting on a façade.

“Oh my gosh!” Emily gasps. “Maestro, look at the gorgeous balloons they have here! They’re so colorful! And the shapes are crazy!” She reaches her hand out to touch one of the decorations hanging up near their seat—

 Maestro is quick to stop her. Those definitely weren’t balloons.

“Emily those are… uh… condoms.”

“Oooooh,” Emily is sat down by Maestro and the waitress. “Well, it’s good to encourage protection then!”

That was certainly a way to put a positive spin on things…

---

After a couple of days of blogging on his own and running a test to see if the vial really worked, Tom Trench returned to the theater.

… Only for Maître to slam the door on him, saying he wasn’t welcome after the incident that occurred in the overlord meeting. Even if it weren’t Maestro’s orders, Maître makes it painfully blunt to him that he wasn’t going to let the anchorman inside. Well, former anchorman now. Admitting that to the servant didn’t help Tom’s case.

It’s tempting to throw rocks at the windows in frustration, but Tom just needs to get Dominique’s attention and see them. Nothing more. He could just text them and ask them to visit him around a corner. If Maître was gonna be a prick about it, then surely Dominique could sneak out.

So, he sends the message letting them know he’s nearby, and waits for the artist. Tom makes sure to keep looking behind him in the offhand chance some other sinners or imps try to mug him.

It doesn’t happen thankfully, and to his relief, Dominique shows up to the meeting spot.

“Hey,” they greet. “Maître didn’t want me meeting with you.”

“‘Cause of what happened three nights ago?” Tom scoffs, pressing a button on his phone. “That guy needs to pull the stick out of his ass. Did you see what I did on TV?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dominique smiles and nods. “Good job! I knew you had it in you! And you’re getting into online journalism instead, huh? I’ve been busy, so I haven’t had a chance to read it yet. Maestro broke his mask on the night you were over and I’ve had to fix it once my hangover cleared up.”

Tom recoils a bit, remembering how Maestro had used a handkerchief to cover his face when he had stormed over to them that night. “That bad? I didn’t realize you uh, got that smashed. Sorry about that!” He awkwardly apologizes, digging in his briefcase. “Well, I have something better this time that might help your issues. Not the paint-vomit related ones, but the stuff with your boss!”

He then processes Dominique’s current outfit. Besides the usual artist apron, they were definitely male-presenting this time around, letting some facial hair grow out over the past couple of days. That or they/he weren’t in any condition to shave recently.

“Maître told me… that Maestro got a new mask, right as the old one finished drying.” Dominique sighs. “Emily got it for him. Though Maître claimed it looked rather tacky, he also said Maestro looked really happy with it. He went out with Emily on a date just now.”

A date!? 

“Seriously?” Tom Trench nearly drops his phone, trying to put it back in his pocket. “Like, he left just now? Leaving you alone here?”

“It’s no big deal, I guess I should just give up, right?” Dominique laughs it off.

“No! Look, I brought something for you that will help, okay?” He takes the half-empty vial out of his briefcase. “Check it out! Look what I snagged before I slammed that resignation letter down! Neat, huh?”

Confused, Dominique stares at the heart-shaped vial. Fancy, having the faint scent of strawberries…

“I don’t keep up with cosmetics or beauty supplies,” Dominique murmurs. “What is this?”

“A love potion!” Tom Trench proudly announces. “I tested it out on some schmucks in a bar before I got back to you, and it really works! One drop of this bad boy and Maestro will be barking at you, over the moon!”

Gulping hard, Dominique blushes, holding the potion to his chest. “Uh, wait! No, that would be forcing him! I know we’re in Hell, but I prefer trying to respect his boundaries, you know? Wouldn’t you rather have it?”

Huh? What exactly was Dominique trying to imply with that one?

“Don’t worry about it, just keep it! It’s a gift, okay?” Tom reassures him. “Whether you use it or not is up to you, just let me know what you end up doing with it. You could even prank that snooty butler with it, get him to hump Zeezi’s like a dog next time she comes over!”

Dominique averts his gaze away from Tom, nervously putting the vial in his apron pocket.

“I would… prefer to, uh…”

The crinoid’s words trail off.

“Well, I mean, I’m free, I don’t have anything else going on today!” Tom brushes his hair to the left side of his mask. “You want the company for a bit longer?” He figures that maybe Dominique is seeking comfort as opposed to an immediate answer that would solve most of his problems.

Though, actually, the comfort could double as a solution too…

If Dominique didn’t want to use it on his master, then he could drink it himself.

“What do you see in that guy? Besides him saving you from an Exorcist anyway.” Tom Trench asks him. “He’s a serial killer from my time, you know? I know I’m not one to talk, but you're super meek and anxious compared to him.”

…

Huh? Wait, Dominique is already gone? He was talking to himself? Didn’t even say goodbye!?

Dammit. Just when Tom thought he was getting something out of this.

Chapter 12: Bolero

Summary:

On their date at Ozzie's, Emily tries to get Maestro to confirm his feelings for her while Maestro reminisces some more on his past experiences.

(mild Maestro x Rosie and Zestial x Maestro crumbs for ppl who like those ships-!)

The service at Ozzie’s was actually pretty great, compared to other places Maestro had been. It’s a wonder such a place was inaccessible to sinners, but lower class Hell citizens like imps were allowed to freely roam.

Then again, the class system of Hell was inconsistent. Imps and Hellhounds were treated as weak fodder that could be sold off and used as servants, but sinners were the ones killed by Exorcists and restricted to the Pride Ring. Lucifer was almighty, but compared to his wife and daughter, he couldn’t hurt or kill sinners, Vox revealed that much. Could Lilith and Charlie even kill sinners? Probably not them either.

The other sins however, and the Goetia? Maestro knew that they were forces to be reckoned with.

“I have a question,” Emily starts, not bothering to eat or drink anything that had been served so far. Could hardly blame her, the food in Hell probably wasn’t to her tastes. She did however seem… impressed by all the pole dancing Hellborn, unlike Maestro, who was only keeping his eyes on Emily’s.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?” Emily prods. “Like, like me, romantically!”

Maestro chokes on his wine.

“It’s okay if you do! That’s why I wanted to give you a chance, besides just redeeming you!” Emily tries to calm him down. “I wanted to see how I felt, and I’ve never been on a date in all my years of existing in Heaven. So… I’m glad it got to be someone I enjoy the company of!” She giggles. “It helps that you’re cute!”

He chokes again—

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll stop!”

“Don’t… don’t call me cute just because I look like an elk.” He mutters.

She laughs again. “Well, I like koalas and pangolins the most! But I think you kinda warmed me up on elks with that little doll you gave me. I watched some videos, and I like the noises they make! Why do you look like one anyway?”

Pondering, Maestro recalls what may have caused it. “My tutor kept a taxidermy elk head in the room where I always practiced and did my lessons. I hated that thing. Frightened me and showed up in my nightmares. Got worse when it felt… as if it had witnessed me killing her.” He wipes the spilled wine on his jawbone with a napkin. “Rather than selling it for a price, I burned it. Then I get dealt this in death. Cruel irony, I suppose. Nothing against the poor animal, of course, it just holds bad memories.”

Not exactly the most wholesome answer, one that dampers Emily’s mood a little bit by the looks of it. “Do you have scopophobia, you think?” Strange how that was the conclusion she came to, going as far as to close her third eye when asking.

“Hardly, and keep that open. There’s a large difference between the gaze of a dead animal and a beautiful young lady, one that I do find myself fancying right about now for your information.” Now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, very satisfying to watch. “You were being genuine saying you’ve never gone on a date before until now? Is that part of being a seraph?”

“Kind of, but even then… I don’t know anything about it, and my older sister babies me every now and then.” Maestro vaguely recalls seeing a larger seraph getting made a fool of by Vox. That must be the older sister. “She’s breaking the habit and has good intentions, even letting me go out with you rather than objecting to the idea of a sinner being interested in me.”

Emily looks down at her lap, unsure how she wants to continue that thought process.

“Well, that’s no way for a lady as lovely as yourself to live, now is it? I’m glad she let you explore, rather than keeping you caged like a beautiful songbird.” He hums. “And if it makes you feel any better, throughout over fifty years of being alive, I never once dated. Not until I was sent to Hell for the next century did I dabble in a bit of it.”

She perks up. “Was it with Dominique?”

“No, no.” Well, unless platonic lunch dates between allies count. “Dominique is my minion in a way, I don’t want to exert my power over them like Valentino does with his subjects!” Though the fantasy of making someone sing has crossed his mind once in a blue moon. “Last date I had in Hell was about… five years ago, with Rosie.”

It seemed she didn’t know who that one was, though maybe Charlie told her who that was?

“The one who lives in Cannibal Town?” Emily guesses correctly. “Charlie said she’s very nice.”

“Yes, she is. Rosie has… peculiar tastes.” He isn’t exactly into cannibalism, but he could look past it for the most part. “I worked up myself, we went out, only for her to gently put me down and say she was waiting for something first… but if I still felt the same way I did in the next couple of years, she would welcome me with open arms and try to ‘start over’. Not sure what happened for her to decide that.”

Come to think of it, Maestro hadn’t heard from Rosie since she helped stop the weapon. They left together, but then, after that, she stopped showing herself. It worried him, but he had been so focused on Emily that he didn’t think much of it.

It made Maestro feel like a terrible friend. But then again, are there really friends in Hell? Alastor has always said otherwise.

“What about Zestial?” Emily asks.

This time, Maestro is careful to not choke on his drink or his meal. “What about him?”

“I dunno, you two have been some of the oldest overlords, so I was just wondering…”

…

Maestro has the… faintest recollection of having one too many glasses of wine over a century ago and somehow ending up in the spider overlord’s bed. Perhaps the desire and realization that he could explore things frowned upon during his time alive made him curious.

Couldn’t walk or stand upright a few days after he tried it out. And this was long before Carmilla showed up, ever since she came along, the two older overlord men had been more distant.

“He likes single moms, I suppose,” Maestro bluntly answers, trying to avoid bringing up things he wasn’t too proud of to Emily. Hopefully that third eye of hers didn’t read minds.

An imp comes forward to the stage, the pole dancers clear out. “Ladies and gentlemen! Señores y señoras!” He announces, grabbing a microphone. “The Great Fizzarolli will not be joining us tonight, but instead, Ozzie has brought a special guest! Amy, of the Ars Goetia!”

Applause is heard, the curtains pull back. It’s a surprise for a Goetia to be seen actively working on the stage entertaining imps, but Maestro had heard the stories about how the lower some Goetia were on the ranking totem pole, the more likely they were to mingle in activities such as this.

A figure cloaked in red, the demon’s snoot pokes through with her blackened nose. The story of Amy was never consistent. Either she was born into the Goetia illegitimately, thus her low ranking, or she was adopted and not an official member of the bloodline, but had the heart of a Goetia more-so than her more legitimate brethren.

“Yo estaba bien por un tiempo,

Volviendo a sonreir…”

She stops her song-like chant, removing the hood to reveal fiery quills. A hedgehog or porcupine demon that resembled a mystic fortune teller.

“Yes… I see it…” She inhales sharply. “Among us! There is an impostor, an angel sent from above!”

All the imps, succubi, and other Hellborn guests look at one another in panic. Emily shifts uncomfortably in her seat, while Maestro reaches his hand to comfort her, unable to do so with her arms withdrawn.

“Fear not, this angel is not here to smite us. Angels are kind creatures… this one is no different.” Amy explains, drawing a card. “They are here for discovery, to understand their conflicted feelings of love and lust.”

She holds the card up to her head.

“Star crossed, impossibly intertwined, a fateful encounter this angel had with one from Hell.” Amy elaborates further. “Do not be ashamed or afraid! Cross the boundaries, my angel, find yourself! And you!”

Suddenly, Amy throws the card in Maestro’s direction. Covered in flames, it comes at him so fast, he barely has time to react. The few seconds it lays on the table face-up, Maestro can see it is the ‘Lovers’ tarot card before it burns up from Amy’s fire magic.

“Come here,” Amy beckons him.

Notes:

Doing the double again today cuz I feel like it. Going back to single chapter updates tomorrow. :P

I thought I would throw a bone to the Maestro/Rosie and Zestial/Maestro peeps on Twitter and Tumblr respectively because they haven't been fed, yet here I am twelve chapters in with this nonsense pairing of two character who have never interacted lol.

Amy is a President in the Goetia, and for the sake of variety I didn't want them to be "another bird", so if we get an Amy in Helluva Boss… I hope it isn't a bird. They're usually depicted as a flame elemental that turns into a human, but I had a funnier idea-

It was TOO GOOD of an opportunity to not make Amy a hedgehog for the Sonic reference. Especially since the Amy in that series is tied to fortune telling and love, much like the actual demon.

Chapter 13: Llorando

Summary:

In the midst of their date at Ozzie's, Maestro is asked to perform before being called behind stage.

(Mild warning for sexual euphemisms)

Reluctantly, Maestro gets up from his seat, looking back at Emily nervously. There is some muttering in the crowd, not about the possibility of one of the guests being an angel so much as the fact there were two sinners here and…

“What’s that old man doing with a young lady like her?”

“What a creep! Totally perfect for this club!”

“Isn’t that the music overlord?”

“Who invited them in here anyway?”

Judgement from various imps and other Hellborn. In any other circumstance, Maestro would snap and kill them, but now really was not the best time, not when he was on a date with a seraph and a Goetia was staring him down from across the restaurant.

Amy, the mystic Goetia, steps aside and swishes her cape, suddenly revealing a piano behind her. It wasn’t there before, so she must have used some sort of magic to bring it onto the stage.

“Dear sinner, play a song for me.” Amy requests with a bow. “From the deepest part of your soul, I want to hear your desires put to the keys.” Her eyes and quills are as fiery as Maestro’s own head and body, gazing through him. “Your fingers will press through, vibrating, showing what you can do. Make some noise, darling.”

Fingers… vibrating… noise.

He’s entranced already, forgetting that the Goetia is even there, playing the same tune he had written and composed for Emily. The same one Maestro wanted to hear her voice for.

“Hey!” An imp in the crowd complains. “We’re here for sexy, smooth jazz about emptying our balls here, not some gentle piano crap! Get this geezer off the stage—!”

“Silencio!” 

Amy’s voice bellows, silencing the imp in an instant the second some flames make close contact with him. Despite the complaints, Maestro isn’t deterred, nor does he stop, his fingers trailing the soft, ivory keys and pressing down the spots he memorized without even needing sheet music.

“Y el saludo de tu voz,

Te hable muy bien y tu,

Sin saber…

Que he estado llorando… 

Por tu amor!”

He slows his playing, hearing Amy sing over his composition. While his focus doesn’t break just yet, Maestro does find himself passing glances at Emily, who appears frustrated by the Goetia. Jealousy perhaps? It doesn't suit her.

“Llorando… Llorando…

Lloraaaaa~andooooo!

No es fácil de enteeeee~ender!”

Then, the gentle movements of his fingers begin to slow.

Maestro sees Emily in the shape of the black and white instrument, but he cannot enjoy or be pleased by the thought of her while this… entertainer was performing over his hard work. 

This other woman was not a part of his vision. Her voice is not the one that sparks inspiration, she is not his angel of music. This rodent was a high-ranking demon, but no seraph!

“Tu amor se llevo todo mi corazon,

Y quedo—”

He stops and gets up from the bench, ready to grab Amy by her scarlet garb in an attempt to get her to stop, but the second Maestro makes contact with her cloak, the rest of her body vanishes, leaving only smoke and various jeweled rings clattering onto the stage floor, her voice echoing throughout the club.

“Llorando… Llorando… Llorando…”

The audience breaks out into applause, as if they had all expected that to happen and it was part of the show. But Maestro is just left dumbfounded, going so far as to pick up one of the rings left on the ground. It was like a magic act before his very eyes.

“Sir?”

Startled, Maestro spins around, seeing a female imp in a suit behind him.

“Ozzie would like to see you and your date backstage.” 

The imp says it with such a smile, Maestro can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing…

Stepping off of the stage, Maestro approaches Emily and takes her hand. He’s hesitant to do so, but if the matter is that serious, it’s best that they abide by the wishes of the establishment’s owner.

---

The backstage is very pleasant, kept very clean, retaining the glamor that the rest of the place had. Normally it wasn’t like that in Maestro’s experience, so once again he found himself pleasantly surprised.

There’s a room for the supposedly famous Fizzarolli, who isn’t in tonight, but also one for Amy and various other performers. Due to his stardom, Fizzarolli is the one with extra decor over his door, while Amy seems to have kept hers minimalistic.

But this isn’t about them, this was about Ozzie. The couple were brought to his office and sat down by the imp in the suit, who returned to the stage soon after.

“Thank you, Lithe, darling.” The oversized King of Lust spins in his chair. He’s bigger than Zeezi even. “A couple of sinners using the vouchers I gave Lucifer and his wife all those years ago, huh? Not that I doubt the story, I saw everything that happened on television.” 

He smirks at Maestro, the overlord tries to force a smile back at him.

“I’ll admit, when I heard an overlord sinner was on the premises, I got a bit worried.” Ozzie, or rather, Asmoedeus confesses. “I was afraid it was going to be that horny poser who thinks he’s the embodiment of lust. Been blowing up my feed and DMs trying to get on my good graces, especially ever since that Vox guy fucked things up!”

“Valentino?” Maestro speaks up.

“Ugh, yeah, him.” Ozzie groans. “I’ve watched a couple of his movies. Not a single bit of love and aftercare poured into them like we do here at the Lust Ring! Not to mention I can tell when a performer is hopped up on artficial substances or being abused behind closed doors. That goes against the real spirit of lust.” He then stares Maestro down. “That being, I could’ve kicked you out too. Helping with that tacky VoxTek weapon isn’t enough to get in my good graces, you see?”

Stirring uncomfortably in his seat, Maestro tries to keep a straight face and remain confident in front of the sin that outranked him. Ozzie’s middle head is fixated on Maestro, but the other, smaller heads seem to be locked onto Emily.

“I don’t need a stuck-up musician sinner here in the slightest, could ruin the vibes! But when I was looking back at the news footage, there was a seraph who initiated stopping that thing…”

Ozzie, smug as ever, points at Emily, his massive finger barely an inch away from her chest.

“You’re an angel, aren’t you?” 

He slyly wiggles his eyebrows, nearly poking the emblem on her dress. Instinctively flinching, Emily reveals a fourth eye that had been hiding on her chest. She tries to cover it up, but it’s too late, Ozzie has already seen a glimpse of her true form. He roars with laughter, slamming a fist on his desk so hard that pens go flying.

“I knew it! You’re the little lady who first helped the Princess with that weapon! I could recognize the lil’ freckles on your face!” Asmodeus applauds. “But to actively descend here and go on a date here with an overlord sinner? Now that’s the spirit of lust! I love to see it!”

“Lust?” Emily looks confused. “I came here with Maestro because I like him. Is that so wrong?”

“Whoo! No, far from it!” Asmodeus stands erect, excited. “You know, I used to look down on the tender ‘love’ stuff, but I'm in a controversial relationship myself! Do you know how many frown upon the King of Lust being with an imp? Between that and a friend of mine dating a hellhound, I’ve come to realize there are no boundaries when it comes to love or lust! I’m just thrilled to see a seraphim stoop to our level!”

Annoyed at the implication, Emily curls her lip. Maestro on the other hand, is pleasantly surprised to learn that the embodiment of lust was dating an imp, while his friend was seeing a hellhound? Combine that with Maestro knowing that Charlie dates a former Exorcist, as well as Lucifer and Lilith’s relationship…

He feels a lot more comfortable in where he stands with Emily now. Less need to hide it.

“You two are welcome back here any time, provided you’re still together.” Ozzie offers his hand. “Besides, it was mighty kind of you to help in Amy’s performance. She always likes having a musician or a magic volunteer to get everyone riled up, if you know what I’m saying.”

Maestro brought his hand out, and upon shaking with him, it was nearly crushed by Ozzie’s massive palm. Emily, while uncertain, also takes Ozzie’s hand. One of his smaller heads attempts to reach down to kiss her fingers, but she pulls away before Ozzie can do it, making a ‘hmph’ noise.

Rather than offended though, Ozzie just seems tickled by her response. “Ooooh, she really is yours, huh?” He sits back down in his chair. “Can I interest you two in checking out any of the hotels around here?”

“No thank you,” Maestro replies. It’s not really his scene anyway.

“I’ll leave you two little lovebirds then, I just wanted to confirm the whole angel-in-disguise-thing.” Ozzie stops himself from opening the desk drawer, probably full of offers of some kind. “Feel free to put your disguise back on, miss. Have a good night out there! If you ever need a place to hide your fun times away from home, don’t be shy now!”

Notes:

I'm not exactly sure why I put that bit from Mulholland Drive into this fic, I guess because it fit the mood? And also because it's peak movie and I think everyone should watch it.

Chapter 14: Serenade

Summary:

After leaving Ozzie's, Emily and Maestro have a moment together.

Ozzie waves the couple off, giggling as he watches Maestro and Emily leave his office. On the way out, of course, their troubles weren’t over, the same performer from earlier was standing in the backstage hall, looking over tarot cards that were faced away from her.

“Ah, there you are, señor Maestro,” she takes a bow. “I do apologize for taking over your song, part of the act is to draw out a volunteer’s fullest desires, incite reactions.” 

Although he had been annoyed with her before, Maestro tries to politely bow back, handing her the ring. “I believe I stole this by accident. I was trying to find you when you disappeared.”

“No, no, señor, it belongs to you now!” Amy smiles at the couple. “Consider it a gift for aiding in tonight’s performance, and compensation for being such a pest. I wish you the best of luck. May we meet again. Energía de la luz… te guiará.” She begins to spin and dance on her way out, prepared for another showing.

This was about as good of an excuse as any to leave the restaurant. No need to pay the bill since the VIP vouchers were for a free meal. Maestro and Emily quickly begin to slink out of the establishment unnoticed, only a few Hellborn make suggestive comments about them.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t have a good time,” Emily mutters on her way out, following Maestro to a secluded area.

“What makes you think I didn’t enjoy it?” Maestro asks.

“The other demons… they keep making rude comments about you.”

Well, they weren’t in the Pride Ring, where Maestro was actually respected. It wasn’t that big of a surprise to know that the locals would see this sinner in their space with a young woman and assume the worst. He didn’t like it, but he understood. Ozzie and Amy seemed to be on his side however, so Maestro was going to proudly wear that little badge of honor on his sleeve for a while.

Emily however, perks up after just staring at Maestro.

“Wait! No, this is good actually!”

“What is?”

“You made progress!” Emily squeals. “You got called names and were heckled by other demons, and you didn’t kill them! Even though you’re stronger than they are!”

…!

Oh! He hadn’t thought of that, actually!

It’s true, even in Hell, when Maestro had a critic that was a sinner or an imp, he didn’t hesitate to smite them immediately. But for some reason, this time was different? Why was it different?

“Ah, well, maybe it’s because they were simply calling me a pervert rather than… incompetent, or messy, or…”

If any of them called Emily a name though, he would have reacted, that much Maestro is certain of. That and Amy had already peacefully shot down the one imp that had tried to boo Maestro off of the stage.

“But you aren’t a pervert! Aren’t you insulted by that claim too?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t trigger the same reaction.” That’s how Maestro is choosing to justify this for now. Deep down, he didn’t at all want to be lumped in with the Vees, but then he thinks back to his fingers on the piano keys, Amy telling him what to do…

Maybe he was a pervert? Just more on the covert side? He never really thinks about the body of another all that often, but the idea of using someone else like an instrument, hearing their voice with just a touch—

The flames covering Maestro’s face burn a little brighter at the thought. No. Bad. This was a seraph. Sure, he’s evil, but he could at least be better than this.

Emily’s eyes begin to widen. He assumes he did something wrong, but then hears what sounded like a pocket knife being unsheathed and a gun clicking. That’s when Maestro remembers he and Emily were standing in the middle of a dark alleyway.

It’s just a crowd of armed, fish-like demons. He’s not too concerned given the fact they most certainly don’t have the angelic weapons Carmilla had fashioned, hardly a serious concern.

“Watch out!”

Regardless of that, Emily gets in front of him and opens her wings readily. The sharks are startled just long enough for her to strike first.

… by using her powers to encase the gang of sharks in a bubble.

Maestro could have just dealt with the demons himself, but Emily finding a non-violent solution to get them away was pretty on-brand for her. Afterward, Emily creates a portal, allowing the both of them to escape while the attackers are stuck.

Stupefied, the demon sharks sit there in their bubble.

“Fucked up big time,” one shark says, “how are we gonna break this one to Crimson?”

---

When they return back to the theater in the Pride Ring, Emily gently places Maestro back on his feet and returns to her original form.

“Despite the hiccups, I think I had fun!” Emily exclaims, flying around the overlord to match his height, still holding onto Maestro’s hand from carrying him. “Can we do this more often you think?”

“Yes,” Maestro replies bluntly. “I mean, I would have to think about when would be a good time, but I… would love nothing more to have you by my side, having little getaways.” 

He doesn’t let go of her hand just yet either, cherishing how nothing is interrupting or cutting this moment short. There is no time for a dance, but…

At the very least, Maestro can lean down and kiss Emily’s hand. Well, kiss her to the best of his abilities given the lack of flesh remaining on him. Nevertheless, he can feel the warmth of Emily’s fingers grazing his jaw.

Pulling away and lifting his head slowly, he’s relieved to see that Emily doesn’t express disgust over his gesture. Far from it, the freckles around her face were glowing, her eyes shimmering from reflecting his flames.

When Maestro lets go of her hand, she puts her fingers to her lips briefly, then reaches for him. Touching his head, Emily is surprised to see that she wasn’t getting burned at all. Of course, how hot the fire was depended on how much Maestro was willingly to let someone else touch him.

That is to say, any time Vox tried to do the ‘shoulder touch’ thing on Maestro, the TV overlord immediately got burned. But for someone like Emily? Right now, Maestro was comfortably warm.

She takes her half of the decorative mask off, then removes Maestro’s. He doesn’t know why, until the seraph closes in.

Time freezes.

Soft lips, unlike anything he had felt before. Such a thing he remembered having himself, but they were often dried, not as gentle and smooth as hers.

…

By the time Emily pulls away, she is glowing even more than she had before.

“Okay! Goodnight! Here, you can give this back to your butler!” Emily stammers nervously, pupils shrinking upon realizing what she he had done. Tearing off the headband she had donned, she passes it back to Maestro and flies off in the distance.

She didn’t even return to Heaven by making a portal, it was as if Emily had suddenly gained excess energy that had to be burned off, like an excited animal.

And… for Maestro, it wasn’t much different. Feeling the area around his teeth, then holding the headband close to his chest.

Her scent is still attached to it.

The pressing of the keys during their time at Ozzie’s, Emily’s singing voice playing back in his mind, Maestro couldn’t take it. He quickly retreats into his theater.

Chest pounding, thoughts rushing, Maestro inhales deeply—

“Sir?”

He chokes on his intoxication.

There, standing and waiting for him, was Dominique, enjoying a cup of tea by himself.

Notes:

"How did the greed demons from Crimson's Mafia get up to the Lust Ring, why are they there--" Shhhhh don't ask questions. They saw an easy money target and thought they could get funds.

Chapter 15: Octave

Summary:

Caught in the act of pleasing him, Maestro tries to converse with Dominique.

It was the worst possible time for anyone to have seen him right now—

“Sir?” Dominique repeats himself. “That was… Emily with you outside, right?”

Oh, sweet Leviathan—

“Dominique,” Maestro hides the headband and tries to regain himself. “How much did you see?”

“I couldn’t hear anything but I uh, definitely saw that she… kissed you before you came in and started… huffing that headband there.”

More than anything, Maestro wishes he could die right now. He could take it out on Dominique, but it wasn’t his fault. It was nobody’s but his own and he knows it. True as the imps and other Hellborn said, Maestro really was just a filthy, perverted old man—

“It’s okay, sir!” Dominique stammers, sounding uncertain about his reassurance. “I huff paint and marker fumes all the time!”

That wasn’t helping…

“Do you want to… have some tea and relax?” He offers. “Calm your nerves?”

Sighing, Maestro sits next to Dominique in the lounging chair. Might as well try to clear his overwhelmed mind.

“How did the date go? Pretty well, I imagine?” Dominique asks.

“I… I’m surprised, yes, it was unusual, but I enjoyed myself very much. And she seems to be… actually fond of me. I didn’t think it was possible.” Maestro traces his memories back to tonight, trying to settle down. “There were a few hiccups, and it wasn’t exactly the most tranquil evening, but I had fun.”

Dominique gives a smile, one that seems a little sad, though it may be Maestro’s imagination. “That’s great, sir. I was afraid you would start doing something drastic if things didn’t go your way.”

As much as Maestro wanted to object, it was a valid concern given his history and how he ended up in Hell.

“I wouldn’t want you like… resorting to Love Potions from Velvette or something stupid—”

“Absolutely not,” Maestro scoffs. “You know, funny thing about that, I ended up meeting Asmodeus. For the embodiment of lust, he’s actually a gentleman with standards. Told me how much he hated Valentino. Can you believe that?” He chuckles, remembering the event. “He’s right. Those stupid drugs the Vees push aren’t love at all. They’re just glorified aphrodisiacs with extra steps! You would never catch me carrying one of those just to get Emily to…”

The thought trails off. Maestro reverts back to the realization that he was a little bit of a voice pervert and his own servant had caught him in the act.

“I wouldn’t use it to make her sing for me!” He readily defends himself.

“I didn’t say you would, sir. You aren’t some pathetic worm like I am.” Dominique comments.

“Oh, again with the self-loathing? What have I told you about that, pet?” Maestro reaches over, gently pinching and tugging the artist’s chubby cheeks. “I don’t expect someone as nervous as you to resort to that either.”

This sort of talk… in hindsight, no wonder Emily had assumed Dominique was Maestro’s significant other. Maybe he should cut back on it.

“Apologies, Dominique—”

“No, don’t be!” He waves his arms. “I’m just glad you’re happy!”

Relieved, Maestro reaches for one of the two tea cups.

… Why does it faintly smell like strawberries?

“Is this a new blend that Maître bought? Or is this the batch that Zestial got me for Sinsmas?” Maestro asks.

With a panicked expression, Dominique takes the cup away from him.

“Uh, no sir, that’s mine.” The artist laughs nervously. “I wanted to improve my intake of liquids. You know me, always drinking soda, paint, other crap? I thought I would start having tea and… add some fruit juice for extra nutrients and flavor?”

“Really?” Maestro looks pleasantly surprised. “Good for you. I prefer milk in my tea personally. Helps keep this skull from cracking any further.” He chuckles. “Perhaps I should try the variant you’re having—”

“I’m going to bed now,” Dominique begins sneaking off with the cup of tea. “You get some rest soon too, okay sir? Night!”

He rushed off with the cup and saucer so suddenly, that Maestro didn’t even get a chance to respond.

…

Looking back down at the tea tray, Maestro can see his original mask had finally been fixed. He closely reviews it, making sure the cracks were all properly glued and sealed shut, before placing it back over the left side of his face.

After that he takes the headband out of his shirt and starts staring at it again, longingly.

His body starts to feel hot again.

Without even touching the tea offered to him, Maestro swiftly retreats to his quarters, feeling lightheaded once again. He’s quick to remove his attire and collapse in his bed, headband still in his left hand.

While the right…

In truth, when sinners got turned into animal-like beasts as a form of ironic punishment, it could come with side effects. Usually a tail that got in the way of things, extra limbs, new noises reflecting what they have become. In the case of Dominique, his pre-existing gender fluidity along with being a crinoid meant he gained unisexual characteristics. For someone like Valentino, he could produce pheromones and make squeaking sounds.

So for Maestro, it was more than just getting a pair of antlers, a cute tail, hooves, and bugling like an elk. He had an increase in his sense of smell. A lot of sinners got that, which is how someone like Valentino took advantage of it. Maestro could ignore him well enough, but Emily’s natural scent…

Emily…

As his right, the more dominant hand, makes way toward Maestro’s… ‘baton’ of the non-musical variety, burying his mouth into a pillow to muffle the bugle noises, ready to fish it out of his pants—

Wait.

Valentino’s pheromones. Love potions. Strawberry scent.

How many times had he seen those stupid billboards involving the Vees, advertising their love potions?

Dominique took the tea to his room. Who gave him the flavor enhancer?

With a groan, Maestro fixes his pants and sits back up. Pacing out his quarters and back to the lounging room, he inspected the tea that had been left for him.

No sign of the strawberry scent in his cup or the pot. Just in the one Dominique had taken. 

He would have to deal with pressing matters later. Maestro was too worried about the artist, hoping that Dominique hadn’t taken a sip of the tainted beverage already by now.

---

He watches the pink fluids go down the drain, sullied by the rest of the paint that had stained the sink. The aroma of strawberries can only do so much to mask the rest of the fumes with false pleasantries.

Without even looking at his phone Dominique presses a dial button.

“Hey! How’d it go? What’d you end up doing?”

Tom Trench’s voice can be heard on the other end.

“I…” Dominique isn’t sure where to start. “Sir came back from his date, right as I had finished preparing tea on my own. I looked out the window to watch for when he came back, but accidentally saw him kissing the angel.”

“Oh, fuck, that’s rough buddy.” Tom pauses briefly. “Did you get any pictures or videos?”

“No!” Dominique snaps, trying to keep his voice down. “He… they’re genuinely into each other, I couldn’t go through with it, so I brought the tainted cup of tea with me and dumped it! I just… couldn’t! Forcing him and stooping to what that Valentino creep does would be wrong, even for me!”

Paint begins to blot in Dominique’s eyes, his voice is hoarse, all while Tom goes quiet again.

“Alright, I get it. You gonna be okay over there? Do you maybe… wanna drop by my place? Have some soda? I’m here if you need me and stuff,” he coughs over the line. “If you wanna vent your frustrations or anything like that. Or hey, you can give up on the guy, that’s fine. I was just trying to help you out.”

Dominique sniffles grossly, trying his hardest to mask it didn’t help. “It’s late, I wouldn’t wanna bug you any more. But thanks.” He swears he can hear a grumble on the other end, but can’t confirm it over the paint dripping from his orifices.

“Okay, well, maybe another try at singing will clear your head? I dunno.”

“Uhhh… I’ve paid my dues… time after—”

The door swings open.

Notes:

Next… chapter or two is a bit on the hefty side in subject matter.

Chapter 16: Forte

Summary:

When confronting Dominique, Maestro has to use force to interrogate his close companion…

The door swings open, Dominique overbite clamps on his own tongue by mistake. Maestro rushes in, ignoring the clutter of the artist’s studio just so he can reach the stool where the tea cup and saucer are sitting. 

A gasp escapes him when he sees it’s empty. “Dominique! Did you drink that!? Are you alright?”

Stunned, Dominique fumbles around with the phone, trying to turn it off before Tom’s voice can come through again. “Uh, I… I spilled and dumped it by accident, so I didn’t drink it.” A lie would have to do.

“Who gave it to you!?”

“Um, no one did. I just found it at the store—”

“That is not possible. Do not lie to me, Dominique!”

Paint starts coming up, the urge to vomit from anxiety rises.

“Dominique… please do not make me use force on you to get the truth. I have no issue asserting myself as an overlord among the others, but out of all of those I own the souls of, you know I dislike being aggressive with you the most.”

Paralyzed, Dominique lowers his head and shakes it, only for blue flames to surround the artist sinner, forming a collar and chains. Maestro gently tugs at them.

“Tell me who gave it to you!”

“I… I don’t…”

He pulls on the chained leash a bit harder, making Dominique spew paint from his lips even more. Maestro waits for him to stop vomiting before asking him again, not wanting him to choke on his own confession—

The phone near Dominique’s bed buzzes.

Maestro stops, looks at the caller. Tom Trench. Dominique loses the color in his face. With the chains in one hand, Maestro uses the other to reach for Dominique’s phone. He isn’t exactly good with modern technology, never owned a cellular phone, but Zeezi taught him at the very least how to answer, that was easy enough.

“Hello? Dominique? You suddenly hung up on me. Did you throw up again?”

Although his fury is boiling, Maestro tries to keep his patience.

“Good evening, Mr. Trench.” He answers, making the venom and sarcasm in his voice blatantly obvious. “Do you mind telling me something?”

…

“Sure.”

What a surprise, he thought for sure Tom would play chicken and stop the call. In fact, he sounds… oddly confident? Someone like him is never so sure of himself when it comes to interacting with overlords.

“Did you give Dominique one of Velvette’s disgusting Love Potions?”

“Yeah, I did that.”

A small gasp comes out of Dominique. Maestro seems equally surprised by how readily Tom admitted it.

“Couldn’t stand Dominique being my pet so much that you have to drug them? First you get him drunk the other night, now this!?” Maestro shouts, his flames rising. “I knew I should not have trusted you around him no matter how much he reassured and begged me! Katie is right about you, you really are nothing but a maggot! I should kill you and—!”

“Cut the fucking crap, Maestro.”

He stops, staggered to hear Tom interrupt and talk back to an overlord such as him.

“You think I wanted to drug Dominique? Are you kidding me? I would have done it by now if that’s what I was after, fucking moron!” He laughs. “Do the math for a second. They offered tea when you came home, then didn’t drink it themselves. Do you get it?”

Maestro nearly drops the phone. His dead heart began to sink. 

No, surely that wasn’t…

“Do you know how annoying it is to hear him so hyperfocused on you? And you ignore him. You’re lucky that they’re too nice to pull that stunt, ‘cause I would have done it with no hesitation!”

What little stomach is left begins to churn, Maestro for the first time, understands the sick feeling of dread that Dominique himself always gets.

“You want to argue with me about it? By all means, come and get me. Go fuck yourself, old man.”

With that, Tom Trench hangs up and Maestro loses his grip on the phone, dropping to the floor. The collar and chains keeping Dominique in place fade away.

No, no. It couldn’t be true… someone so passive and anxious like Dominique? Taking a Love Potion drug from Tom to use on Maestro? But he didn’t go through with it. That’s what mattered, wasn't it? Or was Maestro upset that Dominique didn’t assert himself once again?

Did Maestro want Dominique to be as much of a demon as he was, or did he want them to stay submissive?

Only after processing that question, does Maestro recognize the greater implication of Tom even suggesting that Dominique drug the music overlord in the first place—

And why he didn’t do it.

“Dominique…”

He’s just a crumpled, miserable pile on the floor covered in paint by now, not willing to move out of his own despair.

“Dominique… I should be the one apologizing. You do not need to look so miserable.” Maestro sighs. “It… must have been painful for you these past few weeks, seeing me infatuated with another I had only just recently encountered. I had no idea.”

The crinoid doesn’t budge. Maestro leans down to stroke his back.

“It’s fine, I know she’s prettier and has a softer voice than I do.” Dominique whispers. “That’s the angel of music you’ve been looking for, the one you dreamt of. I would… rather you be happy and pursue it. I couldn’t stand the thought of drugging you with that stuff when Tom brought it up.”

No. No, that isn’t true. That’s not why Maestro can’t pursue his minion.

He needs to be honest.

“Conventional attractiveness is not what has to do with it, Dominique.” As much as Maestro struggles to bring up his discovered auralism. “You made a deal with me, to help you find your happiness and keep you from feeling empty. As long as you continue your self-loathing and pitying, you will not find it. It isn’t healthy. And while I am a cruel overlord, I cannot stand to see another person of talent spiral out of control.”

Raising his eyes to Maestro, Dominique struggles to speak. While he stares, Maestro tries to lift the artistic sinner to his bed. 

“In other words… I cannot love you until you learn to love yourself for who you are. If you can do that… then I am more than willing to be by your side.”

Brushing his warm, cyan hands against Dominique, Maestro pulls the shabby bed blankets over him. In turn, Dominique goes through his apron pocket, fishing out the half empty Love Potion.

“I only put in a drop,” Dominique sighs.

If that was true, which it probably was… then where did the other half of this liquid go?

---

Sleeping off the stress of what happened after the night of his life, unable to please himself, Maestro tries to act like everything is normal for the next couple of days.

Dominique had pretty much become a shut-in since the incident. Every now and then, they were checked up on by servants, and it seemed they had shaved, reverting back to neutral pronouns and they were cleaning their room. Little improvements like that are good, but it would be nice if they came back outside and interacted with others.

But while Dominique seemed to be doing okay, the others suddenly woke up one morning and started looking at Maestro with discomfort.

The ladylike sinner with the elegant scarf and many eyes turned up her nose and avoided Maestro. The violin girl gave him a sad expression before looking in the other direction. The only one who bothered interacting besides Maître, was the grandfather clock.

He’s holding a newspaper, rolling it up when he’s finished. There’s nothing of note on it, just the usual nonsense being peddled that he throws into the fire when he’s done with it. “The others are getting information on the internet, a shame that the papers have become so drab. I suppose I should cancel it?”

“Yes,” Maestro suggests to the sinner. “Are the others acting a bit off, or is it my imagination?”

“Ah, well, like I said, the young'ins are getting information off the internet. Real silly stuff. They’re saying you fell in love with a seraph and went on a date with her! Hogwash! Balderdash! As if you would…”

The clock gentleman watches Maestro’s reaction.

“Sir…?”

Notes:

First appearance of the background friends of Maestro's (I think?) from Bad With Us.

Chapter 17: Sotto

Summary:

Emily decides to drop in again, right on the day of another upcoming overlord meeting!

The clock gentleman watches Maestro’s reaction.

“Sir?” He looks up at his superior. “Don’t tell me that—”

“Who said such a thing?” Maestro questions. “Tell me where this information came from first.”

“You would have to ask the others, sir, I don’t keep up with the online nonsense. If I had to assume, perhaps the Vees snagged that information.” Of course, Maestro remembers his little over-the-phone spat with Tom Trench the other night. “Are you saying it’s true?”

“What does it matter if it’s true or not?” Maestro readily defends himself.

“But… but… your image…”

Maestro doesn’t assert himself just yet, letting the clock gent figure out his next choice of words. He thinks it over, pinching his mustache before humming.

“I suppose it’s not all that bad if it’s what makes you happy and she’s a beautiful one,” he concludes. “Why, actually, being the first sinner to fall in love with an angel might be good press! Yes, now that I think about it, it’s not a bad choice at all. Here I was, afraid that slovenly crinoid would become your future partner—”

Not tolerating Dominique being insulted after everything that happened with them, the flames on Maestro grow as he towers over the clock. “And who let you decide my love life?” He growls.

The weaker sinner backs down the second he sees the flames around his neck. The fiery collar fades once he shuts up.

Perhaps it was better for Maestro to reveal his budding relationship rather than continuing to hide his feelings.

“Well, uh, there’s another overlord meeting coming up at the start of next month, sir. Those two brutes are holding it this time on the first.” By that, the gent means Prick and Hatchet. Seems it was always impossible to separate the two rivals. “What’s worse, the Vees will be attending. Shall I go ahead and let them know you won’t be coming?”

Maestro never was the type to attend meetings held by those two. Zeezi and the Vees indulged in it, and sometimes if he really needed to, Maestro would send someone in his place depending on who could tolerate it.

Come to think of it, there had been a lot of overlord meetings this past month. First was Carmilla apologizing for her actions in creating that horrible weapon, then Maestro held his own asking the others to give Emily gratitude… something the rest of the overlords still haven’t done.

But what could Prick and Hatchet be holding a meeting over? Territorial dispute? Or… did they find out what happened from those online articles?

If that was the case, then this was a good opportunity. Better to nip everything about his relationship in the bud now. That, and if the Vees were there, he could confront them about the Love Potion as well as Tom’s nonsense.

“No, I will be attending. Find a way to let Zestial and Carmilla know, otherwise they might not join.”

---

Time passes.

Sera had to admit, she was impressed with how Emily’s first date went. She didn’t tell her until later, but she had been watching them the entire time. While Sera was initially mortified and ready to step in the moment she realized they were going to the Lust Ring, Abel encouraged Sera to hold back and wait.

Asmodeus was a good host, nothing weird or bad happened besides Amy accidentally making an uncomfortable atmosphere and a near-mugging attempt by some lesser demons that failed. Maestro didn’t do anything unsavory either, he was a gentleman the entire time they were together, none of the demons besides him and Ozzie even knew that Emily was an angel.

And to boot, it was Emily who made the first move. Sera was initially startled when she saw it, but proud of her younger sister after the shock subsided.

Of course when Emily found out that Sera had actually been spying on her the whole time, she wasn’t too thrilled and scolded Sera for it. That sort of thing is exactly what she complained to Maestro about during their date.

From there on, Sera promised to show boundaries and trust Emily’s judgement, using her powers to watch more important matters. Her protective nature as the older sister couldn’t be helped, especially when they only had each other as family, but…

Either way, once she was comfortable enough and saw how much Emily was longing to see Maestro again, Sera eventually decided to permit Emily to visit him whenever she wanted, provided Emily wouldn’t be bothering him with his work or neglect her own duties.

Well then! Maybe a peek and sudden entrance wouldn’t be too disruptive? That way Maestro won’t have to make prep work for his servants, casual visits like that were good!

Opening a portal, Emily takes a quick peek in the theater, ending up in the auditorium. She’s certain the butler might scold her for not using the front door, but—

Oh? Is someone singing? It doesn’t sound like Maestro, in fact, the voice is nearly unfamiliar to Emily due to how quiet it is.

“…you bring life to this hole,

That has been made in my soul…”

There’s an oddly cute cough in the midst of the song, which tips Emily off on who this mystery singer is. Fully emerging from the portal, Emily cautiously approaches the stage, seeing the artist there by themselves.

“I want you to never leave,

Your presence brings relief—”

Pleasantly surprised, Emily begins to clap, scaring Dominique.

“Wow! You’re actually really good!” Emily compliments the sinner. “I didn’t know you had it in you! Although, I think you’re a bit quiet. Did you come up with those lyrics yourself?” She also notes how Dominique has less paint stains on them today. Perhaps they had been bathing more?

“Uh— I—” They clam up, frightened.

“No, I won’t tell anyone, it’s okay!” Emily reassures. “Sorry, I was looking for Maestro when I suddenly heard you and got nosy. I’ll leave you alone to keep practicing!”

Before she can open her wings and flutter off to roam the halls, Dominique coughs again. “Wait, it’s fine. Maestro will be… here soon. He’s preparing for the next overlord meeting today. I wasn’t gonna go with him, but…”

They pause, unable to spit it out as usual.

“Were you going to show him your singing capabilities?” Emily asks.

“I never have, I was going to… maybe.” They hesitate. “You know what? Forget it. I’m sure Maestro would be happier to see you than to know that I’m trying to practice something that isn’t art-related.” The crinoid artist begins to slink away toward the curtains.

Emily tries to stop them, but by the time she flies over to the stage, she can hear the small, gentle tippy-tapping of hooves that became all too familiar at this point.

“Ah! Miss Emily, I didn’t expect you to drop in so suddenly.” Maestro enters the auditorium. “I expected to find Dominique here. They promised to meet with me, but I assume they got spooked.”

Though Emily wants to tell him what happened, she decides to let it go for now. “Yeah, I scared them by accident. Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Perhaps Dominique’s singing capabilities were best left a surprise. “Should I come back at a different time? I was just mainly here to say hello, casually and stuff! You got another overlord meeting, so I don’t wanna be a bother like I was last time.”

“A bother?” Maestro questions. “No, far from it, actually this is good timing. I think you should come with me, if you are alright with that.”

“Huh?” Emily perks up. “What for?”

“For one thing, at this point you are a representative for heaven. Your input may be helpful so that we do not repeat our past mistakes. Of inciting potential war, that is, not anything redemption related I assure you.” He tries to not get her hopes up. “That and… it may be best to just be… honest.”

Maestro, being up there as far as evil, overlord sinners was concerned, seems to actively wince at the idea of being honest. Emily doesn’t know why, he’s hardly been that bad at all. Perhaps in order to be a good serial killer, you had to be a decently dishonest liar?

“About what?”

“The fact we went on a date, to the Lust Ring. People are surely going to find out. While it could risk your safety, I think it would be better for both of us to clear the air and not feel guilty about anything, or be judged, whichever one.”

“No one in Heaven has judged me for wanting to go out with you, and kiss you, and say that you’re actually cute—”

He covers his face, trying to hide the burning flames. That just makes Emily think he’s even cuter though.

“Yes, but it’s different in Hell. You know how other individuals may take advantage of whatever vulnerability I might have.” He then narrows his eyes. “Especially since the remaining two Vees are there.”

Ah.

Emily vaguely remembered them. The moth and the doll who helped shut off the weapon and shoved Vox aside. Compared to Vox, she really didn’t know much about them, but whenever she was helping out at the hotel, Cherri Bomb and Husk didn’t hesitate to say a lot of bad things about the one named Valentino.

“If they try anything, I will protect you. I can beat Valentino well enough in a fight. Moths don’t do well with flames and he doesn’t have Vox protecting his hide.” He paces toward the exit. “Come, I’ll get a chauffeur.”

“Can’t I just make a portal to wherever it is those Hatchet and Prick guys reside? It’d be faster!”

Maestro slightly shifts. “You can, I was… simply offering. I thought it would be nice to spend a little time and chat on the way.” 

In other words, he liked being together with Emily and wanted to enjoy whatever moments he had with the seraph.

And Emily wasn’t going to turn down his gentlemanly offer.

Notes:

Wrote a lot, so I thought I would post two for today.

Chapter 18: Chorus

Summary:

Maestro and Emily make it to the next overlord meeting, held by Prick and Hatchet. With Velvette and Valentino present, the classic music overlord has some questions for them.

“I didn’t think there were old automobile models down here in Hell! Is there any reason for keeping something like this?” Emily asks, sitting next to Maestro while the clock gent drove them to their destination.

“It’s best for some of us who cannot move on, I personally dislike some… newer models.”

Rather than objecting or making fun of him for being old, Emily just smiles. “Like Cybertrucks?”

“Ugh!” Maestro retches. “Don’t even get me started! Those are hideous!” Emily begins giggling at his reaction. “Vox has one of those awful, tacky things and I don’t understand it! Zeezi asked me a couple of months ago if she should get one for her size, and I told her absolutely not! She’d look like an imbecile in that thing! Whoever made that atrocity deserves to be down here more than I do.”

Emily can’t stop laughing. “I know, right!? Don’t worry, Sera is making sure some of those rich business tycoons don’t make it to Heaven. They almost never do anyway.” She kicks her feet slightly in enjoyment. “You said you had something to say about Dominique?”

“That… yes.” He narrows his eyes at the clock gent once again, as if glaring to keep him silenced. “Remember how you asked me if Dominique was my significant other?” Emily nods at Maestro. “It seems… I failed to pick up on signals. They did, in fact… and they saw us, the other night when you…”

Gasping, Emily covers her mouth, mortified. “Oh! Oh no! Shoot, I asked— I didn’t want to be in the way! I’m so sorry!”

He doesn’t feel like mentioning the Love Potion right now.

“If I had known, I wouldn’t—”

“Emily, it’s fine.”

“I mean, if they’re still comfortable, maybe—”

“Emily.”

She stops, a pained look on her face. Maestro reaches over and begins stroking her hair gently with one hand, while the other holds her own.

“Dominique said they wanted me to be happy, and with the way they are now, needing to work on themselves, I don’t think I could be comfortable being in an emotional or intimate relationship with them in the same way I am with you.” He then stammers just slightly. “Provided you consider this relationship official—”

“I already tell Pentious and Abel that you’re my boyfriend.” She doesn’t miss a beat.

It’s Maestro’s turn to cover his face now.

“I mean, if one day you change your mind and become comfortable.” Emily thinks. “Maybe we can make room for them?”

“Emily, I… that wouldn’t change the feelings I have for you.” 

There isn’t an easy way for Maestro to say he doesn’t want her to leave him for the sake of making someone else happy—

“No, I mean, opening up the relationship?”

Huh!?

“Just because my form has turned to that of an elk creature,” Maestro finds himself uncharacteristically stuttering again, “that doesn’t mean I want a harem! At least, I don’t think so? No, that’s weird! I don’t want to be like Valentino, for goodness sake, that would be…”

As his words trail off, Emily raises an eyebrow at him. “No, I mean, you don’t know what a polycule is?”

…

“What?” He’s dumbfounded.

“Oh, right, you probably don’t keep up with certain terms or circumstances due to the era you’re from. Polycule or poly-relationship refers to multiple people in one romantic relationship! There’s nothing wrong with it! It doesn’t have the same sinful connotations as harems do.” Emily explains to him. “That is to say, it could be me, you, and Dominique! I like talking to them and want to get to know them better!”

Maestro looks completely stunned, frozen as he stares off into space.

“Huh,” he finally starts talking again. “I wish I had known that earlier.”

His previous relationship with Zestial would have gone much differently if he had pursued both him and Carmilla— not that Maestro wants to now. The whole fling started out of curiosity and Maestro being a plucky, new overlord at the time trying to assert himself.

“Not worth it if you ask me,” the clock gentleman scoffs. “We’re almost there by the way! Don’t get too cozy back there.” He chuckles, much to Maestro’s annoyance.

Of course, the moment they arrive and the gent steps out of the vehicle to open the door for Maestro, he’s shot in his clock-esque face by a stray bullet amidst the busy street.

“He’ll be fine,” Maestro reassures the worried Emily.

---

The crowd between the saloon and the record store was packed. Prick and Hatchet could already be seen arguing to each other on which establishment would be a better place to hold the meeting in question.

“Who the hell sits in a goddamn record store, Hatchet!?”

“Well at least the seats won’t break from old age!”

Zeezi, as much as she likes watching them bicker, looks as if she’s already tired from being there first or something. No one would blame her if these two had been going at it long before everyone arrived.

“Look, how about we just, make a campfire in between and park our fat asses down?” Zeezi suggests. “Sure, it’s not elegant, but hey! It’s better than arguing about it for another hour!”

Zestial and Carmilla nod, Alastor seems intrigued by the idea, muttering something about bringing fresh meat. Velvette and Valentino… are off to the sidelines, as if they were being singled out.

Upon seeing the collective reaction, Prick and Hatchet nod. “Look like for now, we’ll just have to… bury the Hatchet.” Prick laughs at his own stupid joke. “Alright, who here uses fire?”

Right as Zeezi begins pouring a can of beer onto a small pile of twigs, Alastor gently nudges Prick with his staff, gesturing over to the couple who had just arrived…

“Maestro! Perfect timing!” Alastor greets, briefly stopping when he sees Emily. “I see you brought someone who isn’t an overlord again! If nothing else, I appreciate the consistency!”

“Yes, and you haven’t brought Rosie with you recently, so the same could be said to you, Alastor.” Maestro quips back.

“Oh, she’s fine!” Alastor begins to shove him a little. “Now then, do you mind helping these two with their fire? We can’t start the meeting until they stop arguing!” His neck spins, a loud cracking sound as he turns to face Emily next. “By the way, good to see you again, Miss Emily!”

Emily does a cute little curtsey. Everyone except Zestial seems to be surprised by her inclusion. While Maestro ignores the fire from afar, Emily makes herself comfortable, sitting next to Zeezi.

“Uh… Maestro?” Carmilla asks. “I do not wish to prolong the pre-meeting banter, but may I ask something?”

“No need, I plan on answering what’s on everyone’s mind I’m certain.” Maestro approaches a spot next to Emily and continues standing. “You all may have noticed that it has been two weeks since I had Emily randomly drop in after I wanted all of you to show her genuine gratitude. You may have also seen some things online about me.”

Zeezi and Hatchet both flinch while Velvette looks up, knowingly.

“I am here to confirm that Emily and I are currently together, despite our differences.”

“What!?” 

Zeezi is first to react with a shout. Zestial and Alastor don’t seem the slightest bit surprised by the development, while Prick and Hatchet gawk at him. Velvette and Valentino begin muttering and giggling amongst themselves in the back, but Carmilla just remains stone-faced.

“I see. And this isn’t a problem for anyone in Heaven?”

“No, not at all.” Emily confirms. “Sera just wants me to be happy! So even if Maestro doesn’t want to be redeemed, as much as I believe in the good inside of all of you, I still want to be around him! He’s kind, he’s a gentleman, he’s talented, he’s very cute when he gets flustered, and—”

After which, Velvette and Valentino can’t contain themselves, bursting into loud laughter. Carmilla glares at the two Vees.

“You cannot be real!” Velvette cackles. “This old man who's long past the due date? Even an angel like you could surely do better than that! An angel and an overlord sinner? Seriously? Are we suddenly imitating what the Princess has going on?”

“Honey, you aren’t going to be happy with an old stiff like him.” Valentino smacks his lips, pulling a cigarette out of his mouth. “Ignoring the disgusting physical scars he already has, that man can’t get it up to save his life.”

Zestial mutters under his breath, earning a glance from Carmilla. “I can most certainly say ‘tis a false statement.” 

While Maestro tries his best to ignore Zestial’s comment to save himself embarrassment, Valentino and Velvette uncomfortably close in on the pair. The former extends his hand while the latter takes pictures with her phone.

“I suppose your little ‘relationship’ got your name trending for the first time in years, old man.” Velvette scoffs. “You’re the only reason the two of us bothered to show up, you realize? We sure as shit didn’t give a flying fuck about those two meatheads!”

Prick and Hatchet, offended, stand up for a moment. “I for one am fine with ol’ Maestro dating an angel, I mean, she kinda saved our sorry asses.” Hatchet says. “I mean, the whole I called everyone down here is ‘cause my brothers are planning to visit, and I dunno how to introduce Prick to them so I wanted advice!”

“That’s what you initiated a meeting for?” Zeezi chuckles. “That could have been a phone call, Hatchet! You didn’t need to get everyone involved!”

“We’re nervous!” Prick retorts. “If anything, props to fuckin’ Maestro on owning up to his relationship with a goddamn angel!”

“You two are pathetic!” Velvette spits. “He’s only airing out the dirty laundry because he got scared by everything blowing up on social media I’m sure!”

“And whose fault is that!?” Maestro snaps back, towering over the youngest overlord. “Vox’s little maggot pest is the one responsible for prying into my quiet, private life and gave one of your dreadful Love Potions to my minion with the intent of drugging me!”

Velvette stops, Emily gasps, this being the first she heard of this part.

“The fuck you talkin’ about?” Velvette questions. “None of our employees got a story like that. We’re pissed we didn’t get that broadcasted sooner!”

Valentino, tickled by the increased tension, just slides over next to Emily. “I believe you must be thinking of that little ugly man in the gas mask. What was his name? Timmy?”

“Tom Trench,” Maestro corrects him, clenching his fists.

“Oh, right! Him!” Valentino flicks his wrist, a squeaking sound from his joints. “Look papi, I don’t know how to tell you this, but… he quit a little while ago!”

Notes:

Probably the longest chapter so far because I wasn't sure what the cut off point should be.

Chapter 19: Dímelo

Summary:

When Valentino doesn't believe Maestro, Emily calls in some help before the couple makes a dramatic leave.

“Look papi, I don’t know how to tell you this, but he quit a little while ago!”

What?

“He started doing online journalism, independent from us. By the time Vox is finished regenerating, that little man will be pulled back, like a fly on a string!” Valentino smirks at the couple. “We had noticed one of the Love Potions had been taken in the security footage, but we just assumed he was going to find someone to fuck to vent his frustrations out.”

Alastor looks so uncomfortable about the subject matter on display. It’s like he wants to leave right then and there like when Prick and Hatchet suddenly started making out, but couldn’t due to how interesting it had gotten.

“Anyway!” Valentino puts the cigarette to his lips and takes a deep breather. “How fun was your date? Does abuelo need any help getting it up?” He leans over Emily. “If the old timer isn’t satisfying you, I could offer something a bit more satisfying, turn the infamous angels into something a bit more… popular.”

Pink smoke is blown in Emily’s face. She holds her breath, drawing away while Maestro pulls her to his side, looking at Valentino with the intent of killing him—

No. Don’t. It’s too easy. He’s just trying to bait the composer into aggression. Instead, Maestro tries to remember what happened the other night while Zestial, having also lost his patience with Valentino, gets up to intimidate him.

“Valentino, thou art taking things too far, cease—”

Holding up a hand, true to his name, Maestro silences Zestial.

“No, Zestial. It’s quite alright.” Maestro forces a smile through his tranquil fury. “Valentino I’m sure is just… what is it the kids call it? Salty?” Zeezi snickers slightly, confirming the usage. “Yes, that’s it. Valentino is jealous, is what I mean to say.”

“Celoso? Mi? Of you?” Valentino lets out a short laugh.

“Well, guess who got a live audience with Asmodeus and Amy Goetia recently in the Lust Ring? It certainly wasn’t you, now was it?” He watches Valentino’s face fall. “I had quite the pleasant chat with the embodiment of lust, and he said he absolutely hates your work, but was more than happy to see someone like Emily at his establishment! Isn’t that just funny?”

“You fucking liar!” Valentino screeches, losing his cool in a matter of seconds, with Velvette now being forced to hold him back by the coat. “Where’s your proof, you crusty old fucking geezer!? Huh? There may be talk of you two possibly banging online, but I haven’t seen shit involving either of you at the Lust Ring!”

“He’s not lying!” Emily snaps back. “I can prove it!” Unprompted, she opens her wings and flies up, opening a bubbly portal with her magic and leaving.

After about three seconds, a peculiar, fiery hedgehog comes out, followed by Emily thereafter. Carmilla and Zeezi flinch upon seeing this mysterious demon, while Valentino turns motionless.

“Ay dímelo, 

ven dímelo,

I need to know…” 

She stops singing. “What is this? You bring me to a crowd before I can finish putting my make up on?” She looks back up at her surroundings, the pitch in her voice changing to a friendlier tone. “Ah, señorita Emily y señor Maestro! Why did you bring me all the way out here?”

Prick leans over to Hatchet and murmurs. “If I had known Emily was bringing salsa, I woulda bought some corn chips…”

“Hush, you two,” Carmilla snaps quietly at them. “That is Amy, a president in the Goetia family!”

Seeing the reactions of the other overlords, Emily grins. “Hey Amy, Maestro and I were called in to meet with Ozzie directly after your performance, weren’t we?”

“Si, I wouldn’t mistake you two for anyone else I get during my shows. Why do you ask?” Her gaze lays upon the two Vees. She doesn’t say anything else, but Amy doesn’t look particularly impressed. When she sees Prick and Hatchet however, her face completely changes. “Since I’m here, are those two in need? Can I be of service?”

Carmilla, who seems to have knowledge of this particular Goetia, stands up next. “There’s— there’s no need for one such as yourself to be involved, Miss Amy.” She shows an unexpected degree of respect for the president, something that catches Zestial off guard. Perhaps Carmilla is a fan of hers?

The fiery hedgehog looks at her and giggles. “Ahh, you must be Carmilla Carmine! Word has spread about your weapons, rumors have passed about how they may or may not be involved with attempted assassination on others in the Goetia family.” She watches the weapons dealer shudder. “Relax, I care not about your trade. However, unlike the rest of the Goetia, I am more than happy to mingle with sinners and overlords in their relationships.” She brings tarot cards out of her sleeves, slinking over to Prick and Hatchet.

“Ay dímelo, 

I need to know,

Porque por tu amor estoy muriendo yo,

You gotta let me know which way to go…” 

Well, that solved their problem at least. Maestro meanwhile takes the remnants of the Love Potion out of his pocket, popping the cap off before igniting the contents with just his middle finger.

“Anyway, I believe this belongs to you two.” 

Valentino and Velvette, both distracted by the sudden presence of a Goetia, don’t even bother seeing the potion being flung in their direction. Velvette, being too short, avoids the attack, but Valentino is pelted in the face as it explodes on contact. Of the two, he was most definitely the intended target.

Cursing up a constant storm and complaining about his expensive sunglasses being cracked, Valentino reaches for his guns, but Maestro makes a quick break and departs from the meeting early, pulling Emily away by her arm in the process.

Alastor watches the madness, chuckling to himself.

---

The clock gentleman is still down, he hasn’t regenerated yet and there are notable injuries going past his face and through his skull. Actually, it looked like someone had intentionally run him over a few times while his body had been lying there.

“Troubling, looks like we won’t be driven back until he recovers.” Maestro mutters, uncertain if Valentino would try to pursue him for little show. “Do you think you can make a portal and bring us back to the theater, Emily?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Emily?”

Maestro looks back at her, only now realizing her movements had slowed a little. Her face looked red and sweat was going down her face. Pressing a hand to her, Maestro could feel the seraph was burning up.

After remembering where she is, Emily tries to use her powers, but can barely form a rift with her hands. “I… I’m sorry Maestro. I tried to hold my breath, but that smoke…”

Fucking Valentino. Who would have thought his atrocious pheromones would work on an angel!?

“Can you contact your sister in some way?”

Emily makes an attempt to open a rift again, but struggles. “I… I asked Sera to trust me more and not constantly spy on me, so she may not be watching this time.” She begins fanning herself, opening her dress collar a bit.

Shit.

Looking behind his shoulder and then at the surrounding, busy street, Maestro sighs, pinching the middle of his brow before stretching his leg to the curbside, pulling up his pant leg just slightly.

A rundown cab comes to a screeching halt right in front of him. Not ideal, but it would have to do. Emily mattered more right now.

The window is rolled down, a sinner resembling a crash test dummy sits inside, a cigarette in his mouth. “Where ya headed, Maestro?” He chuckles sleazily. “Not often someone on the higher class end of society bothers ta’ call a cab!”

The cabbie stops laughing once Maestro opens the door and brings Emily inside first. Before he can even object to the angel being put in the vehicle, Maestro throws money at him.

“Put out your cigarette and take me to the hotel run by the Princess.”

“What? Not one of them fuck hotels?”

“Now!” Maestro yells, the flames covering him igniting a little more as he steps into the cramped vehicle next. Once he closes the door, the cab speeds off into the night, narrowly evading a particularly angry moth.

Notes:

In this fic, Emily learned from her mistakes on "why not just show off Pentious to the residents of Hell?" when no one believed Charlie and decided to just drag Amy out to prove Maestro was telling the truth…

Perhaps in a way, it's character development on her part, lol.

Anyway, we won't see the Vees again in this fic after this, that's why they aren't tagged.

Chapter 20: Repente (aka the dubious make out chapter)

Summary:

Emily begins to feel the effects of Valentino's unusual smoke on her way back to the Hazbin Hotel, topped off with a bumpy taxi ride.

(Content Warning: Rough kissing, touching, resistance, mild dubcon- nothing too bad, but if you are uncomfortable feel free to skip! I will understand!

… but if you're here for that, then this is the chapter?? Lol.)

With an exhausted sigh, Maestro leans in the cramped cab, constantly checking to see if Emily was alright. Her breathing was fast, her body was hot and sweaty, her face turning completely pink like the smoke she had accidentally inhaled.

Bringing her to the hotel was the best thing Maestro could think of. Vaggi and Charlie had contact with Heaven, didn’t they? Worst case scenario, Lucifer could help, as much as Maestro didn’t particularly want to ever interact with the man.

“You’re burning up,” he points out. And there’s no easy solution to that problem given the fact that Emily wore a dress that didn’t have any buttons or ribbons to air herself out. Even if that were an option, Maestro somewhat feared the prying eyes of the perverted cabbie.

But Emily seems to be aware of the predicament, and with what little energy she has, tries to lift the skirt of her dress and fan herself, revealing her legs in the process. Lavender mary janes and white tights.

“I want to rip off these stupid things—”

“Don’t,” Maestro tells her. The least he can do for her to help stop the overheating is take her shoes off. “Fan yourself with your wings, perhaps that may be of some aid.” He makes sure the cabbie isn’t watching, but of course, the driver is darting his eyes between the road and the rearview mirror.

Why is he driving so slow? Peeking outside, Maestro sees there are quite a number of other vehicles on the street.

“Traffic,” the cabbie spits. “That Verosika Mayday broad had a concert going on somewhere around here. I can go crazy and flatten the others if you want me to get there faster, Maestro.”

Should he really risk that when Emily is in such a state…?

Well, he’s in Hell for a reason. While perhaps it went against Maestro's sense of patience and elegance, he also didn’t particularly care if others got hurt. Chances were Emily wasn’t in much of a state to question it either, with the way she was slipping in and out of consciousness.

“You have my permission, just don’t play that awful punk rock music.”

Maestro watches the cabbie remove his hand from the radio dial, grumbling. Being denied his preferences, the cabbie raises his foot and floors the gas pedal.

The taxi goes straight into several vehicles in front of it, some of them flattened  while others go flying in the air, leaving nothing but a bloody mess in its wake. To make matters crazier, the fucker decides to drive through incoming construction.

Amidst the chaos, the seat bounces, Emily finds herself shoved against Maestro.

Another bounce, and she’s on top of him, straddled across his lap. Damn vehicle didn’t have any seatbelts, so all Maestro could do was encourage her to hold on—

But that’s when a sharp exhale suddenly escapes him.

Her desperate, wandering hands, trying to hold on tight, had made their way around Maestro’s backside, grabbing his fiery tail.

It’s… fine. Emily doesn’t know that he’s sensitive back there. It clearly wasn’t on purpose. 

Right?

When Maestro tries to move her hand a bit higher, Emily doesn’t budge, instead interlocking his fingers and burying her hot, sweaty face into his chest— another area that was significantly sensitive for him.

Emily is just holding on. That’s all she’s doing. Maestro tried to reason that in his head over and over as the angel kept close to him. He wasn’t going to let those thoughts… the previous thoughts from…

“Hey!” The cabbie complains. “You know how I feel about couples who are all over each other in the backseat! Cut it out, unless you’re asking me ‘ta join ya!”

“She’s… I can’t,” Maestro replies. “Just keep driving!” The cabbie growls, but resumes his duty in finding the quickest way to the hotel, all while Emily’s lips softly press against the center of Maestro’s chest. “Emily,” he breathes, “that’s enough. You’re going to do something you’ll regret if you keep…”

The angel opens her eyes, looking up into his own, captivating the powerful overlord. Why? Why were things like this his weakness? Now he can’t help but start softly brushing her hair.

“Do you want me to at least try to roll down a window to cool off?”

With the way she’s staring, it’s like Emily didn’t even hear him. She raises her chin and pulls away from his chest, at first reaching for his neck, but Maestro tries to block her with his own hands, cupping her face.

Viewing it as an invitation rather than him stopping her, Emily kisses him. Was his own damn fault, Maestro could admit that much, but it’s fine. They’ve kissed before. They are a couple. There’s nothing wrong with just light kissing, maybe it will help ease her.

That’s what he hoped, but—

“Em—!?”

His gasp is cut short when he feels her tongue trying to slip into his mouth, oh dear Baphomet. Maestro is too stunned and the euphoria takes over, overloading his sense of taste and smell with the same sweet scent that drove him mad before.

He pushes back, just a tiny bit. Enough to make him pause after and tell Emily ‘enough’, but just getting that extra taste and pent-up frustration out makes him want even more. But Maestro can’t get more, that would be taking advantage of her. He wasn’t like Val, he wasn’t like Vox, he wasn’t like Tom fucking Trench, he was a horrible man who killed people but there were limits—

Maestro in truth, while having an easily triggered temper, quick to resort to murder, more than happy to assert himself over his servants, was never the type to be such a monster. Even if he’s bad, he just can’t do anything regretful to someone like Emily, he just can’t. But right now… he really wanted to keep going! 

“I told you two ‘ta cut it out!” The cabbie snaps. “Don’t fuckin’ make me come back there!” 

Despite the scolding, Maestro’s head was spinning too much to really hear the driver. He lost all sense of his surroundings too, just focused on trying to fight his urges while also fighting off Emily, who is high on those stupid smoke pheromones!

Eventually, he manages to successfully cover Emily’s mouth with the palm of one hand while continuing to hold her with the other. Maestro is left a panting, drooling mess after the ordeal. Strands of saliva, slightly dyed pink from the pheromones drizzled against his chin.

Just keep holding her back. Hold her off and resist until this ride is over, then the hotel staff can help. Maestro cannot. For the first time since he became an overlord, since he first went against Zestial, he finds himself struggling.

Then Maestro sees past the head of the car seats—

That maniac drove off of a goddamn cliff.

Gripping Emily as tight as he possibly can, Maestro braces for the impact. Up in the air, then slamming back down onto the ground as the tires somehow made the landing. The bouncy and grinding against his lap is unbearable.

It comes to a stop. The cabbie turns to face the couple.

“The Hazbin Hotel, right? We’re here. Now get the fuck out.” He gives them a smug grin. “Less of course, you want me ‘ta help with the relief. I’m pretty pressed here too seeing you two go at it—”

“Shut up!” Maestro snaps, freeing himself from the car and carrying Emily under his arm. Maestro doesn’t even grace the driver with the courtesy of closing the door on his way out, he just hurries to the hotel’s front entrance.

It’s not as busy compared to how it was when Maestro first stepped through. Neither Charlie nor Vaggi could be seen at the front desk.

Sitting Emily in a chair, Maestro runs to the desk and rings the bell up front. Repeatedly after he doesn’t get an answer the first two times. There’s the sound of a squeaking toy as something materializes behind Maestro.

“Hey! Sorry, my daughter isn’t here right now—”

Fuck.

Maestro spins around. Dropping one of his many collected rubber ducks on the floor, the King of Hell stands there, frowning when he realizes who has been ringing and who he is now speaking with.

“Oh, it’s you.” Lucifer sighs. “What do you want?”

“Emily! Emily needs help! Contact her sister! Or someone from Heaven!” 

Maestro has no time for sarcasm and Lucifer, hearing how urgently the sinner who once brushed him off needed his help, notices Emily slumped over in a chair. 

“Oh, fuck!” Lucifer swears. Now understanding the urgency of the situation, Lucifer is quick to get Emily the help she needs. Whatever questions Maestro assumes he has will hopefully be answered later. Emily’s health was the priority right now.

Notes:

On the plus side, I finished a cover for this fic so I can edit the first chapter and slap it on there for new readers lol.

Chapter 21: Ambients

Summary:

The aftermath of the cab ride, Maestro returns home only to be plagued by nightmares of his past.

Hours pass.

Two hours of no relief besides one bathroom break where Maestro has to splash cold water on his flaming face. Only when he looks in the mirror does he notice his skull had been stained with smudges of dark lipstick. Then he has to be called back out to keep explaining himself.

Charlie and Vaggi return after Lucifer had let them know what was going on. Emily had been returned to Heaven so Sera could take care of her. Thankfully, for whatever reason, Vaggi believed everything Maestro was saying and didn’t seem to doubt him the same way Lucifer and Charlie did.

Of course… Maestro can’t blame them. How it looks to an outsider, bringing in a drugged Emily. Lucifer and him were already on rocky terms due to a past argument over musical theater, and as for Charlie, Emily was one of her best friends. Not to mention, something like this could stir a response from Heaven.

Vaggi meanwhile, already knew Maestro was in a relationship with Emily, and could relate to the situation he was in. She would normally assume the worst about most sinners, but she had more sound logic and sympathy.

“If he had done something actually bad, he wouldn’t have brought her to us. If Alastor and Carmilla were there as witnesses, we can get their word that this was Val’s doing.”

Lucifer relented after that retort, grumbling something about the ‘red bellhop’. 

Still, now Maestro was concerned about how Sera would react. Would they want him exterminated? Or would they target Valentino if they believed his side of the story? He wants to go back home, but he can’t. He feels sick again.

When Alastor does inevitably return to the hotel, Maestro doesn’t feel like showing his face, fearing what he would have to say to him, opting to hide around the corner of a hall instead. When Charlie asks him for confirmation, he says that Val indeed did blow some smoke in Emily’s direction.

What Alastor didn’t know was the reaction Emily had to it. He seemed to give… well, radio silence.

Shit. The cabbie. Maestro curses himself for not keeping the cabbie around as another witness, but given how sleazy that fucker was—

“Hey.”

Maestro flinches. It’s just Vaggi, but still, he didn’t think she would sneak up on him like that. Was she looking for him?

“Do you need a ride back to your uh, theater?” She asks him. “There’s been a cab hanging around outside, I wasn’t sure if that’s the one that brought you here or not. Looks like it fell off a cliff though.”

Pausing for a moment, Maestro tries to mask his fears with a chuckle. “It did. Told him to take the fastest route possible. I thought for sure that slimeball would have ditched me after.”

Without another word, Vaggi escorts him out of the hotel and to a vehicle, trying to keep eyes and attention off of Maestro.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Vaggi asks. “If not, can you uh, at least give Emily her shoes back, or…?”

…

He doesn’t answer beyond giving the mary janes back, having totally forgotten about the shoes in his hands. Maestro simply approaches the cab, gets back inside, waiting for the dirty cabbie to finish jerking off on the sidelines. By the time the crash test dummy notices him, he tosses a magazine back in the front seat and smirks.

“Came back because the bitch couldn’t put out, huh?”

Maestro wants to kill this asshole, but he needs to get home.

“Nothing of the sort,” he snarls, “take me back to the theater. I’ll double your pay.”

“Triple,” the cabbie hisses back. “Maybe put a good word in for those girls you hang out with, or your butler.”

---

The cab pulls back up to the theater. Another bumpy ride that leaves Maestro sore all over. Maître and the young violin girl are waiting for him, concerned when they hadn’t heard back from the clock gentleman at the expected return time.

“Hey, you two!” The cabbie catcalls Maître and the violin girl, honking his horn. “I threw your master’s back out a little bit by accident, lemme know if you wanna ride next!”

As he cackles, the unamused Maestro looks back, noticing some gas leaking from the bottom of the cab. All it takes is one flick of Maestro’s wrist to send a fireball over to the little puddle, causing a massive explosion that sends the cabbie flying in the air.

Maestro doesn’t bother saying anything to his other servants. He’s tired, he’s hurt, he wants to lie down and forget everything that happened, but he fears what tomorrow will hold for him next.

Maybe… he would just hide. Remain cooped up in the auditorium like he often did. 

The stress of everything overtakes him so badly that Maestro doesn’t even change out of his suit. He simply collapses on his bed.

…

He has a nightmare. A recurring one induced by stress.

It’s the same every time, a nightmare where he remembers the day he was told his parents weren’t returning. That they were gone. He would never see them again after the funeral. No longer would the warm, gentle comfort be there for him.

Everything is cold.

A tutor takes him in, and while things seem steady and awkward at first, she begins to brag about how Maestro’s father was a prodigy. A master musician who died before he could finish his work as a composer. And Maestro had shoes to fill.

Berating. Hitting. Imperfect. Every mistake had to be corrected. The elk head stares at him just as harshly as she does.

She doesn’t hold him, doesn’t hug him. Minimal praise until he reaches perfection. Sometimes if he messes up so badly, he goes to bed without dinner. Not once does this new guardian tell Maestro that she loves him, only that she is ‘proud’ at one point before bestowing her inheritance.

So why—

Why did the burning stare of the elk head fill him with guilt for what he ended up doing? And only when he got rid of it, did he continue similar antics.

It kept staring at him, he steps closer to it, preparing to take it off the wall, but its dreadful maw begins to open…

No, rather, the skin peels back like an opening mouth, revealing the bone underneath. A visible, pulsating brain is there, soulless eye sockets staring right through Maestro.

And then, quick as a flash, the head opens its jaws for real and devours him, taking Maestro’s own head.

Darkness surrounds him.

Lost in the void, falling, falling endlessly into Hell.

“Hear my hope…”

A hand with bubbles coming from the palm reaches out for Maestro, grabbing him to pull him up—

---

In her dreams, a hand reaches out to Emily.

She takes it, and flies this person through the pink, heavenly skies.

But it’s short lived, hearing her name called in the waking world.

“Emily!”

Emily opens her eyes to see that she’s surrounded. Sera is there, next to her is Abel, Sir Pentious, and Peter. The older sister is first to embrace the younger.

“Oh, thank my good friend Jeezy C. you’re okay!”Abel sighs in relief, so close to having another panic attack.

“What… what happened?” Emily asks, still rather dazed.

“Charlie told me everything. You got stunned by an overlord’s unusual smoke and the one named Maestro brought you back to the hotel to get in contact with us.” Sera explains. “We don’t know the full extent of that overlord’s capabilities, but from what I had heard, he left you overheated and in a trance. I had you purified, but then you weren’t waking up.”

Maestro…?

That’s right, Emily is starting to put it back together. There was an overlord meeting, Valentino blew smoke at her, she couldn’t make portals so Maestro called a cab. The aftermath gets a little blurry, but…

She remembers kissing Maestro in her intoxication, him doing his best to hold her and cool her down the entire time. He never touches her in a way that would be deemed inappropriate.

Emily tries to get up, but her body is still tired from being overheated and then purified. She can barely move.

“He saved me,” Emily mutters. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Maestro went back home after he—”

“That’s not what I mean, Sera!” Emily begins to tear up. “Why isn’t he here with us? Like Pentious!?” 

He saves her and it has nothing to do with his ego or self-interest, yet he isn’t here with the rest of them? That’s what Emily wants to say, but her sobs are getting in the way of it.

“Emily, I’ll go check on him for you.” Abel offers, taking her hand. “I’ll let him know you’re okay, let him know you and all of us, are grateful.”

From there, while Abel leaves to let Emily continue resting, Sera refuses to leave her side, no doubt blaming herself for this occurrence, while Sir Pentious and Peter also try to support Emily, telling her things would be okay.

Notes:

Next couple of chapters will be on the "melodrama" side before returning to that cute shit™.

Chapter 22: Elegy

Summary:

Days later, Maestro anticipates the worst when Abel pays him a visit.

For days, Maestro doesn’t come out of the theater. 

Even when the clock sinner regenerates and returns to his duties of waking Maestro and preparing him for bed, Maestro barely makes contact with anyone. Maître, the violin girl, even Dominique, he barely says a word, won’t even wave. Zeezi attempts to visit him after the incident out of concern, but is turned away since he doesn’t want visitors. 

He just remains, waiting on whether or not Heaven or anyone else will come to smite him. Best case scenario, Emily returns to him, but it feels like a hollow hope. His motivation to write compositions or play the organ begins to disappear.

Maestro hears a peculiar sound behind him. The tips of his fingers move away from the organ, having completely lost his will to even try.

“You were Maestro, right?”

A male voice. He recognizes it vaguely. The current leader of the Exorcists had come for him. Just like in the story he read long ago, the main hero has come to put an end to the phantom’s reign of terror. No torture chambers, no halls of mirrors, no explosives, or drowning techniques, Maestro is defenseless. The flames of passion do not burn enough for him to make use of his abilities.

“Make it quick if you plan to finish me off, Exorcist. You may have stopped one of your soldiers before, but you being here by yourself can only mean one thing…”

 He doesn’t even want to refer to him by name.

“I… I don’t have my exorcism mask on, what are you talking about?” Abel says to him. “I’m here to talk about Emily—”

Maestro slams his hand against the organ keys, making a loud noise.

“She’s okay, Maestro! She’s back in Heaven.” Abel explains. “Me, Sera, and all of us are grateful that you were the one who brought her to Charlie’s hotel so we could be contacted. Emily is so grateful for you, she already misses you and asks why you aren’t with us in Heaven—”

“I’m a murderer, and that has not changed. I had the taxi cab mow down several sinners and imps on my way just to save Emily, throwing caution to the wind and letting dirty thoughts take hold on my mind!” Maestro snaps. “If you don’t want a filthy, older man near and potentially tainting your precious friend, go ahead and execute me now!”

“You aren’t that!” Abel retorts, stepping closer. “Okay, you made a rash decision in the heat of the moment to save another, but a lot of people have done that! And if you’re worried about any intrusive thoughts, they’re just thoughts! You can’t control what your brain does!”

Brain—

Maestro rips off his mask, exposing himself to Abel.

“Then hurry up and destroy it!”

“No! Emily wouldn’t want that and neither would anyone else!”

… Oh, dear Satan…

Was… was this how Dominique felt all the time? So empty, and begging for death to stop their thoughts, even though others clearly cared for them? And the way Maestro tried to give them pep talk previously—

He couldn’t follow his own advice. He asked his servant, one of his closest allies, that they needed to love themselves. That they needed to stop hating and sulking over who they were. Stop obsessing with their imperfections and critics.

Yet, here he was, falling into the same pit. Maestro didn’t give that advice earnestly, it was supposed to be himself, staring at a reflection through another sinner, one who also wanted to meet their end at the hands of an Exorcist.

Hypocrite. That's what he was.

“Tell Emily I am sorry,” Maestro sighs. “I would love nothing more to see her again, but only when she is fully recovered and ready.” He finally stands up. “As an Exorcist, could I ask you to slay other sinners for Emily’s sake?”

“She would not want that either,” Abel explains. “I know that Hell has a lot of terrible people who don’t deserve a second chance, and maybe should be purged at worst—not you— but Emily… When my dad was still alive, Emily stood up to her sister, using her voice, siding with Charlie on how the exterminations were wrong. She risked her position, risked falling like Lucifer for that.”

…

This was the first Maestro was hearing about this.

“An old recording of my dad making an ass of himself that day was saved in the Heaven archives, if you want to see for yourself, I can bring it to you.” Abel chuckles softly. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look so… enamored when discussing another individual. You really love Emily that much, huh?”

More like, Maestro was already fond of her and Abel was giving out more reasons. Love was a bit strong of a word, but…

Not only did she save sinners from that weapon, hurting her wing, trying to give them gifts, but she had risked her own position in Heaven? Maestro imagines what could have happened, if Heaven rejected her. He hoped that if anything were to occur, he would still have found her.

“Please bring it for me, if at all possible.” Maestro comments, putting his mask back on. “And tell Emily I miss her just as much. Mention nothing else of what I said, other than I feared for her wellbeing.”

After which, Abel departs with a kind smile.

---

Two days later, Dominique is summoned to the auditorium, where they find Maestro has regained his will to start playing again. He doesn’t stop when the crinoid artist makes their way to his side either, acknowledging their presence with a nod.

Sitting next to him in the spare seat that had been placed, Dominique had definitely been taking better care of themselves recently. Most of the paint had been washed out of their hair, they were wearing a nice, new clean, cute dress that seemed a bit fancy as opposed to the same dirty artist apron, and they didn’t seem as if they were ready to throw up buckets today.

He slows his piano playing just a bit to listen to Dominique. “You haven’t told Tom what happened last week, have you? I’m a bit nervous as to what the masses are saying on… what is it? Social media?” Maestro asks.

“I didn’t say a word to Tom but he must have found out on his own, maybe through someone at the hotel. Or that cabbie you set on fire after you came back. He kinda twisted it to make you sound like some sort of pervert, but Charlie cleared it up on her socials page saying that while you weren’t a guest, you saved Miss Emily from another overlord.” They hum a little, amused. “Tom didn’t hesitate to mention Valentino’s involvement.”

Maestro seethes slightly. “Do you know where that maggot friend of yours is staying now that he no longer works with the Vees currently?”

“He did offer to invite me over.”

“Do you mind accepting his offer? Maybe with me as your escort?”

“Sir… please don’t do anything rash.” Dominique sighs. “I understand you’re angry with him, I was just gonna softly talk things over and suggest he target the Vees exclusively for a bit, then maybe he’ll leave you alone. I didn’t know he had so much spite for you. I feel like an idiot.”

“About that,” Maestro interjects. “I called you here because… I wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you after that vicious phone call I had with that pest.”

They blink, surprised by this. “Huh? Why? I mean, I’ve been taking it to heart, first time I was given criticism that was constructive, rather than just completely shit-talking who I am—”

“That’s not the point.” Maestro’s fingers stop playing, turning to face Dominique. “I couldn’t take my own advice. I projected myself onto you, fearing you were turning into me. And while you were turning around, moving forward after admitting your mistakes, I got hung up on my faults. It makes me feel as if I lied to you in some way I can’t explain.”

Staggering back, Dominique’s eyes widened, their mouth agape. “I… uh… I mean, we’re down here and not redeemed for a reason yet, right? We refuse the hotel’s help and have trouble fixing our problems, or something like that. So you don’t have to apologize.”

Didn’t things like this start with sorry…?

“I’m not taking it back, Dominique. You always apologize, it’s fair I do the same.” Maestro remains firm, letting out a soft chuckle in response to all of this.

He resumes playing,  Dominique continues to stay there.

“Can you play the composition you wrote last month? The one Emily kinda inspired you to make?” Dominique stammers awkwardly. “I’ve been working on writing lyrics, and I’m afraid to share them, but maybe I’ve been practicing on my own.”

Maestro misses a note and pauses again.

“You write lyrics? I thought you were an artist.”

“I know you hate him, but Tom kind of… likes my singing. And I have another friend by the name of Emblerlynn who is an upcoming novelist, so we collaborated on my ideas online.”

Maestro is impressed, but apprehensive. He doesn’t exactly want his vision muddled with, just as Amy did, yet he finds himself so curious what Dominique’s interpretation of the song he wrote could be. That plus with how quiet and monotone Dominique normally was, he never really hears their voice outside of some fits of rage. 

Can they sing well…? 

Notes:

Decided to make my presence known in the uh, hazbinrarepairs tumblr community. I normally don't open up too much and prefer keeping to myself, but I'm enjoying writing this and sharing it. :)

Also haha reference to Emberlynn Pinkle. I almost wanted to add her to this fic because the romance going on here is her kinda shit and I did have a funny idea for an arc involving her… I diiiid also have an idea for an arc involving Zeezi, but we'll see how the next chapters play out?? We are getting close to one of the "end game" revelations and next chapter is the "song climax", so I imagine not much is left of this fic. (I didn't plan it out, I flew by the seat of my pants which is unlike me)

Chapter 23: Ballad

Summary:

The singing chapter.

Emily isn’t sure why Maestro requested a recording of the trial, and she also didn’t understand why Abel said he was going to deliver it. It was a bit of a personal affair to Heaven, but she takes it upon herself to show it to Maestro now that she had fully recovered.

If it was for some sort of secret reason, she deserves to know. Besides, Emily hadn’t seen Maestro in a little over a week and was worried out of her mind. Abel just said he was fine, but she knows Maestro’s mental and emotional states more than Abel does, so… it’s not that she doesn’t believe Abel, but…

She needed to thank Maestro for everything that happened back there. He views himself as such a monster, but in Emily’s point of view, he acts like a prince, or a knight in armor, a real gentleman through and through.

This time Emily doesn’t randomly pop into the theater, she takes the door. Maître is not there to greet her, but she doesn’t exactly want to turn around, so Emily lets herself in.

Music is playing? That’s a good sign, either Maestro was present or one of the other sinners who knew him was practicing. As Emily approaches the auditorium, she sees Maître alongside a few other servants gathering, entranced by the music.

No, it’s not just a piano being played that they’re listening to, there are vocals now coming with it.

“I can see the red moon,

Far off in the sky,

Pentagram, impending doom,

And all I can do is cry…”

Emily gets closer, pushing through the crowd that was in awe. There’s the piano on the stage, with Maestro playing, and next to him is… Dominique? Emily knew that the voice was familiar to her, but she's surprised to see the artist finally open up.

“Your silhouette peeks through,

You’re suddenly at my side,

You tell me ‘I am there for you’,

But is it nothing more than a lie?”

Under the rather raspy voice that sounded like it was on the verge of crying and throwing up, was something tender. Dominique’s voice picks up a pitch, timing themselves just right while they hold their phone, possibly in an attempt to record their own voice.

Maestro sees Emily in the crowd, his jaw agape, but his fingers don’t stop. Dominique catches his change in expression, and turns to face Emily’s bright character amidst the crowd of sinners.

They swallow hard, ignoring everyone else to lock onto Emily.

“You bring life to this hole,

That’s been made in my soul!”

The same lines Emily had heard before— they had been practicing for this very moment?

“Yet you’ve found another playmate,

And it fills me with such shame…!”

They take a deep breath, practically shouting from the bottom of their heart next. That’s when Emily realizes that this is a challenge. The anxious artist, in reality, was someone who carried the weight of an emotional power ballad.

“I want you to never leave!

If I let you go, I know I’ll start to weep!

I want the pain to stop, that’s when I realize,

Your presence brings me such relief,

But this is all about you, and not about me!”

Dominique slows down, taking a breather, never once breaking eye contact with the stunned Emily, their voice reverting back to a quieter state.

“And while I’d rather you be happy…

I can’t leave it all behind,

I just want you to accept, 

These feelings of mine…

Feelings of mine…

… Feelings of mine.”

Sweating, furrowed brow, displaying themselves in the flashy, fancy outfit, Dominique continues to stare Emily down.

This wasn’t them trying to steal, this wasn’t them trying to be insensitive, Emily could see that this was Dominique’s way of saying ‘come up here and challenge me to my level’. To prove herself, to be the angel of music that Maestro so desperately wants, don’t shrink away now.

Otherwise, Dominique is more than happy to do it.

She accepts the challenge, opening her wings and slowly flying toward them, carefully timing how she synced her voice with the piano.

“Believe…

I need you to believe.”

Maestro tenses up, briefly grabbing the core of his chest. Seeing his reaction, Emily continues.

“Hold my hand,

Have faith that you can change,

I know that by the end,

You can be redeemed.”

Getting off the bench, Maestro appears more determined. Certainly more than he did previously. He turns, facing Emily and taking the baton resting on his piano. Dominique backs down in anticipation for whatever is about to follow through. The piano stops, but an organ and violin controlled by his power take its place, creating a more dramatic atmosphere.

“Can’t you see?

Beneath this mask of love, I continue to sin,

You look the other way, to my selfish needs!

Your idea of redemption, and my angel of music…

It’s nothing more than meager fantasies!”

Maestro’s booming voice catches Emily off guard. Everyone else had heard it before, but it was still startling for someone normally so smooth to suddenly become so powerful. The act had become a duet, drums pounding in the background.

“That life you’ve lived before,

Still haunts your dreams.

I know that with just a gentle push—”

“I will never be free!”

Interrupting one another’s vocals, blending into a near perfect harmony…

“I reach out to you, to tell you—”

“You can be redeemed! I need you to–”

“It’s just a fantasy! I will never—”

“Believe!”

They clash, then loop back around.

“You want me to believe so badly?

Then show me… show me your spirit!

Then I’ll believe!”

High notes.

Singing high notes is all Emily can do now, notes that not even Dominique trying their hardest could really hit. It was as if the baton held power over this seraph, controlling her vocals, an impossibility given that Emily had never once sold her soul to Maestro.

And even if she had, when could she? No, this was entirely within her own will, it just felt as if she had to respond and go higher. 

Maestro tosses the baton aside, opting for his bare hands, his fingers twitching upward as Emily’s voice pitches further.

He joins her hands with his, interlocking their fingers, practically carrying her away into a dance, backing Emily into a corner as he does so with little resistance. In response, all Emily does is reach for his mask, only to have her wrist grabbed and returned to its original position.

‘Not yet’ is what he softly mouths.

Emily’s spirit, her pitch reaches its maximum high. Windows begin to crack and shatter, the chandeliers raining glass outside the stage. The clock gent, much to his misfortune, has his face pierced by the shards.

After which, the exhausted Emily loses her breath. She had hit her peak. Dominique meanwhile, processing the situation, excuses themselves to go throw up anywhere else but on the stage.

“Even if it never happens, even if I really can’t be redeemed,” Maestro speaks normally, “for your sake… for everyone’s sake, for my own well-being, and for your song, I will try to believe in what little good I have and who I am.” 

He stops, letting go of one of Emily’s hands to reach for his pocket. The violin girl, expecting the least wholesome outcome, faints on the spot.

“I refuse to ever own your soul… I refuse to make deals with you that would leave you trapped. But I want to respect the promise made. To try to believe in myself as you do in me.”

Emily keeps her eyes on Maestro, but can feel his hands return with something sliding on her ring finger.

A solid gold ring, the same one he had picked up and taken from Amy during her performance. Not an engagement ring by any stretch, but a bind nonetheless, a symbol of their moment together, their promise, their song.

She embraces Maestro, giggling as she does so.

“You’re too dramatic,” Emily teases, her voice a bit hoarse. “I’ll have to find one for you that matches!”

“Promise?” Maestro teases back, earning a playful shove from the affectionate seraph.

Notes:

Man, I gotta tell you guys, it has been REAL annoying constantly getting spam bot comments on here. I thought having guest comments disabled would have stopped them from coming in, but there are just TONS of dummy accounts leaving fake comments? What are the mods doing, why are there so many of them…

Complaining aside-

While the ring in the original Phantom of the Opera is a symbolism of control and entrapment, here it's more of a mark of a promise, like a goal had been reached. Not marriage, but a promise just as valuable between our two unlikely mains.

Anyway, lemme know who cooked harder: Dominique, or the duo? In-universe, Emily clearly won because that's the narrative, but I'm curious either way lol.

Chapter 24: Auralism (sexual content warning)

Summary:

Very very blatantly sexually suggestive stuff going on here.

A more explicit, full version that's E-rated will be posted in the future when this fic is completed. Skip this chapter if you don't want saucy bedroom shenanigans and mild fluff.

“How many times are you going to watch the trial on loop?”

Maestro looks up from the footage being played in the palm of his hand, encased in angelic technology. Impressive how these angelic recordings could be accessed by anyone who was adept with magic, holy or not.

“As many times as I get to hear your singing voice and watch you defend us despite the risk.”

“It’s embarrassing, and it’s weird that you have to do it in your bed!”

The music overlord pauses, remembering that he is indeed, laying in his bed face-up while Emily sits next to him, watching the recording of the trial with him.

It had been two weeks since Emily came and made her promise with Maestro, they kept going steady, though she needed to rest her voice after pushing it that hard. It had gotten to a point where Emily sometimes would now stay over and sleep at his place rather than Heaven or at the Hazbin Hotel. That, and she kept her promise in finding him a ring that matched hers.

But this was the first time she was in such close proximity to him before bed. Normally, Emily took a spare room.

“That checklist… Humor me for a moment, my dear, would you say I have fit the criteria you all set for Angel Dust and Sir Pentious?”

Emily stops to think about it, plopping herself on her stomach next to Maestro on his bed. “Act selfless, you’ve done that for me and Dominique plenty of times by now. Stick it to the man, you stood up to the Vees and pressed them about their past employee. Stealing though…”

He looks surprised. “When did I ever steal anything?”

“You stole my heart, that’s pretty bad.” Emily teases, poking him.

A soft, amused scoff from Maestro as he starts brushing her hair with his spare hand. A more tactless sinner would make a joke about ‘virginity stealing’. “Technically, you did that first, not me. Shouldn’t you have fallen, then?”

She mulls it over while Maestro puts the angelic device aside, softly wrapping his arms around the seraph so he could awkwardly play with her hair some more.

…

“Are you smelling me?”

Startled, Maestro pulls back a little. It seemed he had been doing it instinctively without much thought. “I… I apologize—”

“It’s fine, it’s not a big deal, but can you be honest for a moment?”

He was a little afraid of what might be asked…

“Do you have like… some sort of shame when it comes to intimate thoughts?”

Exactly the sort of thing he feared, but it could have been worse. “Yes,” Maestro answers. “Nothing to do with being repulsed or asexual like Alastor, it’s just that growing up in a strict home and a certain society has made me accustomed to repress myself. Abstain. I’ve never had sex when I was alive, and when I came to Hell, I had only one intimate encounter thus far.”

He won’t mention how said intimate encounter put him on the bottom and how he’s still never slept with a woman before.

“As for you, at this point, I realize I have… auralism.”

“Auralism?” Emily asks, curiously.

“It means… a… a fetish for one’s voice. Sexual arousal from certain noises. You… somehow do it for me, and I find myself disgusted by it. But I suppose that’s expected of a lawless, murderous sinner, isn’t it?” He tries not to degrade himself too much, Maestro wants to improve on that front.

But Emily just shakes her head. “Fetishes aren’t a sin, Maestro. Overindulgence is. People in Heaven experience sexual feelings and other desires all the time, they just do it in moderation. But doing too much like an addict is what leads people to become sinners. At least, that’s what my sister tells me.” 

Oh. This was news to him. 

He really learns a lot when he’s with Emily.

“So, when you’re playing the footage on repeat, do you feel anything?”

The flames on Maestro’s head become warmer, he hesitates, glancing down at his body. Only when does she bring it up and sit so close to him, does Maestro recognize the space in his pants…

“If you do, uh, do you want some relief?” Emily asks.

His breath hitches, stopping a gasp.

“I feel bad if I’m the one causing you distress. Besides, more often than not, it’s people who repress so much that they shame and discriminate against others who end up in Hell, so it’s really better if you don’t bottle it up so much!”

Hesitation, and then…

“Well, you did touch my chest and tail while you were high up on Valentino’s awful smoke, that may have added more to my previously frustrated feelings.”

“I didn’t know I did that! I’m so sorry!”

He isn’t sure why she’s apologizing, Maestro is intentionally giving that away as a sort of hint. His eyes lock onto her, telling Emily it’s alright without even using his words.

“Can I at least return the favor in some way, like… I’ve never done it before, but…”

The air is stiff as they continue to stare at one another. All that Maestro can do at this point is invite it, let Emily move and do as she pleases, in whatever way she feels comfortable. He isn’t at all going to force his hand unless prompted.

Rolling over on top of him and splaying herself across his lap, Emily moves her hands close to Maestro’s chest, watching his reaction. 

“How come your boobs are bigger than mine?”

“They are not…”

She pouts, using her powers to make her dress disappear. Maestro had no idea if there were buttons or ribbons on the back of it, so this certainly saved him the trouble of exploring, but now he was face to face with white tights and a small bra covering what remained as far as the seraph’s skin was concerned.

“See?” Emily presses against him, measuring up. “You’re a guy, but you have a bigger chest than me.”

“No, I’m just taller and broader.” He claims. Though he hardly knows much on the subject of breasts in the first place, other than the few times his antlers accidentally bumped into Zeezi’s since they would sit close next to each other during meetings.

She doesn’t budge from her current position, trying to open his suit to feel around the rest of his body. Touching part of his ribcage is enough to win a stifled groan from Maestro.

“Now hold on,” he objects, sliding his own hands over Emily’s abdomen. “I think if any of us should initiate, it should be me, if that is fine with you.” 

With a smile that held little to no uncertainty, Emily nodded her head, allowing Maestro to pay her back in the same manner she had during her high. The mask comes off first, figuring that if he was going to be naked, he might as well throw whatever physical insecurities to the wind.

They’re both comfortable enough with it, completely fine with drawing closer, though it is mostly Maestro pulling Emily closer to his face. He kisses her, starting tender with Emily before gently biting her lower lip, being careful as he could be with his sharp, bony teeth.

A moan escapes Emily. The first time Maestro has heard her voice like that. Not even those pheromones brought such a reaction out of her. It’s an invitation for him to be a little more aggressive.

Releasing her from his bite, with the memory from last time fresh in his mind, Maestro slowly forces his tongue into her mouth next. Another gasp escapes Emily, and Maestro, not wanting to muffle her beautiful voice, gives her just enough breathing room in their heated kiss.

Your fingers will press through, vibrating, showing what you can do…

He remembers Amy’s words.

Fingers… vibrating… noise.

Fingers, vibrating, noise.

His hand moves down Emily’s abdomen, sneaking down to the waistband of her tights. His fingertips about to slip through, but not before his mouth, soaked with angelic spit, takes a break.

“I want to… play you… and hear what sounds you make.”

Perhaps not the right words to use, but Emily doesn’t laugh at him, helping Maestro by pulling her tights down to her knees.

It’s no different than playing an instrument. It’s no different than pressing the keys of a piano. It’s no different than conducting an orchestra or opera. Maestro can only laugh at himself for being so prude in the past.

All it took was the movement of his hands and a little skill…

Notes:

Final "arc" of this fic will be the last few chapters.

Chapter 25: Crescendo

Summary:

The next morning, Maestro and Emily get a visit from Zeezi, who seems to be coming to terms with her own issues.

As the hellish sun peeks through the window, Maestro wakes up with Emily by his side. 

The memory of last night had been permanently burned into his mind, the curves of Emily’s smooth legs, her voice, her warmth…

There is a gentle tap at the door. The clock gent was probably coming in to wake them up. Maestro, noting how his suit had been tossed aside in a pile, gets up and folds the suit into a hamper before sliding on his favorite robe. Emily though… she could use her powers to materialize a dress, yes?

He lightly shakes her as the tapping continues. “Emily,” Maestro whispers. “Wake up, my dear. Make yourself decent.”

“Nooo… give me five more minutes.” Emily grunts.

That’s adorable. Probably the response she usually gave Sera. Regardless, Maestro pulls the bed covers away from the sleepy seraph. She does as suggested once the cold air hits her body.

“You may come in,” Maestro loudly speaks to the butler on the other side, allowing the clock gentleman to enter.

He briefly stares at the two of them, but doesn’t make any comments. “Maître has already prepared breakfast for you and the lady, sir. I assume she will be staying for it? Also, you do have a guest waiting for you at the front door. Miss Zeezi. Shall she be let in?”

At this hour? Zeezi was never the type to be up early. Usually, if Maestro had a visitor at dawn, it was likely Zestial or Rosie, maybe even Alastor if he felt like it. But Zeezi? She partied late into the night and slept into the afternoon. Also, she usually barged in without the others warning him.

Perhaps it was serious if she was acting out of character. “Yes, of course. She’s free to join us as well. You are dismissed. I will get dressed myself.”

“You know I have a name, right?” The clock gentleman scoffs, leaving the bedroom.

Maestro chooses to ignore the snarky comment of his butler. Once he’s gone, Emily doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around the overlord’s waist, giggling. She was going to return to her work at the hotel eventually, so Maestro would take advantage of the morning affection while he could by turning around and reaching to give her kisses. He knows he’ll miss it later if he doesn’t do it now.

---

Zeezi meets the couple as well as Maître at the dining table. As expected given the hour and her known mannerisms, she wasn’t exactly dressed fancy, wearing a black t-shirt with fake nipples painted on the front. However, the least she could have done was brushed her hair or put some pants on.

“Do you require assistance with your appearance?” Maître asks her before anyone else can make a comment.

“Uh, appreciate it, but nah I’m good.” Zeezi replies groggily, as if she had just rolled out of bed. “I’ll worry about it later. Thanks for havin’ me on such short notice, gramps.” She rubs her eyes, taking the time to notice Emily’s presence as the seraph was happily eating an omelette.

There’s an awkward pause between the two before Zeezi clears the sleepy phlegm from her throat. “Uh, she just staying with you now?”

“She stayed over last night. It’s up to Emily which nights she wishes to stay with me, at the hotel, or back in Heaven.” Maestro explains, taking the coffee pot and pouring some for himself in a cup.

“Sooooo~ooooo… you two have slept together?”

Rather than being flustered, Maestro just gives Zeezi a stern look. “Just tell us why you’re here at this hour with the shabby presentation.”

“Okay, okay!” Zeezi sighs. “Firstly, I wanted to talk to you sooner, but you were in such a funk, y’know after that last overlord meeting? Which somehow devolved into you visiting the Princess’s corny hotel? I got turned away by your servants and I was seriously worried about you!”

“Flattering,” Maestro brushes off her concerns.

“Can you not talk down to me like that!?” Zeezi snaps. “I know I call you gramps, but you’re seriously like the older brother I’ve never had, always looking out for me when I go too far! This whole situation with Emily had me concerned about your well-being!”

…

“I… I’m sorry.” Zeezi apologies first. “You’re like, fucked up found family to me. Same with Prick and Hatchet. So I thought the worst happened and I wasn’t going to see you ever again.”

Nodding, Maestro listens while sipping away at his coffee. “I understand. I should be the one apologizing. I did not realize I made you worry this much.” He gives Zeezi an earnest expression of sympathy.

“She’s softened you big time, gramps,” Zeezi rolls her eyes. “In the past, you would have told me I’m need to dial it the fuck back and pipe down.”

“And you’re not normally so emotional, so something happened to you as well for you to come up to my door and act like this.” Maestro claps back. “Be honest, you’re not just here out of concern for my safety. Certainly, that was your original reason, but Zestial and Carmilla didn’t resort to this sloppy exterior.”

She looks at Emily again. She looks almost guilty, invading a conversation between two friends, but tries to give Zeezi a smile. This same girl who told Zeezi to her face that she was capable of good, in front of a crowd.

“Held a party at Klub Kaiju like I always do, got a few interesting party goers visiting this time around, but one of them was a Hellborn so I decided to give her a hard time. Let her know that my place was for sinners who like to party! Not a bunch of fuckin’ dogs or imps!”

They all wait for her to briefly settle down. Maître offers her a choice of coffee or tea, but she just takes the pot of the former and crunches on it, puncturing holes in the pot to drink directly before tossing it aside.

“Go on,” Maestro urges her, ignoring Zeezi’s usual poor table manners.

“We got into an argument right there, I knew I could beat her sorry ass, but she had enough moxie to keep biting back and told me she needed to get away from her coworkers and I just happened to have the place with the cheapest drinks. I tell her, alright, she’s standing her ground, and I tell her to vent on the dance floor!” Zeezi pauses, averting her gaze. “She tells me about her overbearing father, the new secretary who needs to be shown the ropes, one of her coworkers getting oddly hormonal… I lost my patience at the mention of the father I think.”

“Papa issues?” Maître comments.

“Shut your white ass up!” Zeezi growls. “More like I didn’t have anything! Dropped on the doorstep and too much of a problem child for anyone to adopt for years on end! I told her fucking sorry ass she should be grateful for what she has!”

Emily really looks like she wants to speak up, but is nervous to do so, afraid she may fan the flames the same way Maître just did.

“I… can’t remember what happened, too many drinks, too much dancing, too much yelling.” It was increasingly evident that Zeezi was hungover, explaining her current state. “I woke up the next morning at a hotel in some bed next to the damn bitch.”

Maestro chokes and spits out the remainder of his coffee while Maître chuckles to himself. Poor Emily is also rendered speechless, dropping her fork with a loud clatter.

“I couldn’t even stay. She was sleeping in while I ended up bailing out on her. Hurried my ass over here as fast as I could and I think I left my damn wallet! Bet she’s swiped it by now.” Zeezi holds her head. “I’m an idiot.”

“Why didn’t you just leave your number?” Emily asks. “Then maybe you could ask if she had it, and you could return it—”

“I think my number is on one of my cards, fuck!” Zeezi curses. “I didn’t— I wasn’t sure if I wanted to meet up and clear the air or forget the whole thing ever happened! Maestro, just tell me what to do here!”

He stops, processing the information and wiping his mouth. “Are you… asking me because I am someone who pursued an angel, and you’re trying to figure out how to do the same for a hellhound?”

“No! I don’t think so? No way!” Zeezi denies, but her scales look a shade pinker than usual. “I don’t even know her name!”

“Then why not go find out? That’s the least you can do.” Emily suggests. “Apologize for the trouble, get your wallet back.”

“We’re in Hell! You may believe in the capacity of good for others, but be serious! Who the fuck has the courtesy to return someone’s wallet in—!?”

The ring of her phone interrupts her. Zeezi whips it out, a classic flip style phone that she denies being out of style, with cute little dinosaur charms dangling from it.

“Uhhh… hey, who the fuck is this?” Zeezi answers, confused initially, but her eyes bug out a bit. “Oh! Oh shit, really? Yeah, I know, I lost it, I had… I had to meet with a friend for a breakfast meeting, so I kinda bailed!” She lies through her teeth. “You… want to give it back? Uh, alright, I’ll meet you in front of your work… yeah. What’s your name? Alright, see you in a bit!” 

In a mild panic, Zeezi cuts the call short, watching the reaction of those around her.

“She found your number and called you back for the wallet, didn’t she?” Maestro chuckles.

“I don’t believe it either,” Zeezi shakes her head.

“What’s her name?” Emily perks up.

“… Loona…”

With that, Zeezi takes her exit in a total flushed mess, the likes of which Maestro had never witnessed before. Doesn’t even clean up after herself or say goodbye, just mumbles something about needing to go. Just when Maestro wanted an update on Prick and Hatchet too…

It seemed the shoe was finally on the other foot.

Now then, what were Maestro’s day plans again? 

Ah yes, tracking down that maggot.

Notes:

Woe, new rare pair be upon you. *throws Zeezi x Loona to the crowd*

I kinda want to draw so I maaaay take a break after this chapter and break my addiction? We shall see! (Side note: don't care about TGA but NEW MEGA MAN GAME WOOOOOO-)

Chapter 26: Flight

Summary:

FOR THE DRAMA
THAT YOU'RE DRINKING
AND THE DARK THOUGHTS
YOU ARE THINKING
AND THE LOVE NOTES
THAT YOU SCRAWL

OH I WISH I WAS A _______________

Even though Emily’s portals are more convenient for the situation, Dominique is the one who has the location and it’s best not to scare him away, so once again they ask the clock gent to drive them over.

Emily, sweetheart she is, is the first ever to actually bother asking for his name to properly refer to him. He says his name in life used to be Timothy Piece. He makes it vague on whether or not his name was altered upon selling his soul to Maestro, as Dominique had.

They pull over to what appears to be a rather rundown apartment complex. All attempts to keep the area kempt and tidy had failed, surrounded by dead plants and garbage.

“Emily, don’t you have to go to work?” Maestro asks her.

“It’s fine, I told Charlie and Vaggi I would be a little late today.” Emily most likely wanted to make sure Maestro didn’t do anything rash with the reporter.

“Very well.” Maestro nods. “Dominique, you go in first, then we’ll follow in a couple of minutes. I assume he doesn’t suspect we’re here.”

“Nope. I didn’t let Tom know.” Dominique nervously admits, stepping out of the vehicle. “I’ll let you know if uh, anything else happens. See you in… twenty minutes?”

“Ten.”

“Right…” 

They begin making their way up the front steps, going through the front door, which was just barely hanging from its hinges. Ascending the steps isn’t much of a challenge, but Dominique has to ignore the puddles of blood or vomit on the way, or the passed out sinner lounging in a corner of the hallway.

Knocking on the door, Dominique sheepishly tucks themselves into the teal turtleneck they’re wearing, trying not to get attention. “Tom? Are you here? It’s me. I uh, came like you asked me to—”

The room door swings open. “Hey! Good to see you! Relieved that you weren’t uncomfortable over the whole situation where you were caught with the Love Potion and I told off your boss!” 

Tom Trench rings around their arm, pulling Dominique inside and closing the door behind. “Yeah, uh, listen I know you were annoyed at him and how much I talk about him, but he isn’t a bad boss like yours are. You didn’t have to take it out on him so harshly.” Dominique fakely laughs, bringing themselves to a ratty couch.

“Want me to get you a soda? Or one of those other weird energy drinks?”

“Oh, yes! Definitely!” Dominique perks up.

Tom leaves for his kitchen, riddled with cockroaches that scatter, all while Dominique glances at their phone then over at the door. “You’re not gonna believe this, Katie stopped by and threatened me earlier. She said Vox had finished regenerating, so it looks like my few seconds of fame are over and I’ll be back to being a punching bag. But hey, maybe Vox will notice what I’ve gotten up to and promote me!”

The door creaks open. Tom doesn’t hear it of course, busy clinking around the inside of the fridge.

“Also, thanks for recording your song the other day.” Tom Trench chuckles. “I can’t believe Maestro didn’t fall head over heels for you after that showing!… I mean, who wouldn’t? Is that geezer just stupid?”

“Uh, I said to take it easy on him! You think you could stop with the articles too maybe? It’s his private life and all…”

“Look, I’m just saying, that guy doesn’t notice his surroundings. And it’s not the first time I’ve dragged him through the mud.”

…

What?

Dominique nearly misses that part. When did Tom…?

Tom Trench returns with a can of soda, only to see the door wide open, with Maestro and Emily now sitting on the couch next to Dominique.

“What was that about me?” Maestro asks him, legs crossed and arms folded.

“Ah,” he wasn’t so tough when he was face-to-face with the overlord as opposed to shit-talking over the phone. “When did you come in? I thought I was meeting with Dominique alone.”

“Listen! We’re just asking you please, please to stop writing articles that make Maestro look like… well, some sort of creep.” Emily forces a smile, keeping a friendly demeanor. “I know you’re frustrated with your job and don’t like seeing your friend toyed with maybe, but that’s no reason to take it out on him! Besides, if you’re worried about your contract, maybe Charlie and I could redeem you at the hotel? Then you could be free of that awful job and workplace abuse!”

Shaking his head and furrowing his brow, Tom strangely doesn't hand the soda to Dominique, just awkwardly standing there with it. “Toyed with is one thing, I just get secondhand frustration. Honestly, Katie gave me a good talk about it, as much of a bitch she is.” He sighs. “If I succeeded in drugging Maestro and having him all randy for Dominique and successfully swooning for them via their serenade, where would that leave me? That’s what she said.”

Dominique nearly spits a little bit of paint up.

“I’ve known Dominique longer than you, they shouldn’t be fawning over some murderous old guy who owns their soul.”

“Playing the role of a bitter, jealous man isn’t a good look, Mr. Trench.” Maestro tells him. “You could just be honest, and even if you are gently let down for whatever reason, all would be fine.”

He laughs.

“Oh, that’s fucking rich, Maestro. Or should I say, Frederich?”

Maestro freezes.

Between this, and that previous, offhand slip that Tom had made—

“Do you know what I did before I was drafted and died in the war? I was an investigative journalist. I’m good at it, and that shit hasn’t changed.” Maestro can just barely make out a glint in Tom’s eyes as they started to bug out, glistening with hexagonal shapes like the insect he was on the inside. “Hell, the only thing that did change is that I’m on the lower pecking order after selling my soul to keep doing what I like but on a grander scale, that being television.”

“What are you talking about?” Maestro nearly stammers, his façade crumbling.

“You think you got away with all your shit, didn’t you?” Tom laughs, careful to keep his distance from the overlord. “You didn’t bother looking around when you pushed that guy in the orchestral pit, huh? See if any lingering audience members wanting to get an interview remain?”

Emily watches Maestro’s expression, her concern growing with the overlord’s.

“I bided my time like a fly on the wall, following you around until that day you burned to death. Got a nice photograph of you pursuing the young woman who turned you down and didn’t like your work. Needless to say, everyone found out it was you who started that fire.” A soft buzzing noise comes out of Tom. “Was the biggest controversy in 1913! All your compositions and original songs were tossed aside and forgotten after I published it, no one wanted anything to do with you!”

Maestro’s chest begins rapidly moving up and down, as if he were breathing heavily.

“You weren’t just forgotten with your death, everything involving you was burned. Because who would want to listen to the work of a serial killer? At least Vox had the charisma of a cult leader.”

Getting up from his seat, the fires on his body burning brighter, Maestro swings back his arm, preparing to strike this accursed, foul maggot. 

The only thing stopping him from lashing out and burning everything around him was Emily grabbing his hand, looking into his eyes, silently telling him it wasn’t worth the violence. 

It wasn’t worth doing it all over again.

It wasn’t worth continuing what caused him to land in Hell. Murdering people in life, being passive-aggressive and harsh to those who failed to meet his expectations of performances in death. Maestro knows that it's because of Emily that he had softened, he felt happier this way, and acting out right here would be undoing everything.

If he was forgotten and looked upon with scorn, then surely, this pathetic creature wasn’t any different. They were in the same place, Hell, but one was a coward. A coward who not only didn’t save others for the sake of being a witness to incidents he could get report and gain attention for— 

But also Tom couldn’t even learn to express his love for another. The love he feels when Emily keeps holding his hand, believing in him. Tom had Dominique believing in him to stand up against others, sure, but he preferred dragging others down while fawning over Dominique from afar.

“A can of insecticide would go a long way with you, but I presume your gas mask leaves you invulnerable.” Maestro comments, calming himself down. “You realize you’re just repeating the abusive, manipulative behavior that Miss Killjoy and the Vees exert over you by using Dominique like that?”

Tom stops laughing, the soda can still in his hands.

That's when Maestro remembers—

The bottle contents. It was half-empty.

Maestro snatches the can of soda from Tom Trench and smells it. He reads the contents of the can. A fruit flavored drink, but of the ingredients listed…

None of them indicated strawberries.

Notes:

Dropped the usual naming convention so instead there's a "Flight of the Bumblebee" joke on top of the overall "fly/insect" related themes.

I definitely think it made the most sense for Maestro and Tom to have died at similar times and to have lived in the same country. Where this could have taken place is up to interpretation, but "Frederich" is generally a German name, but it is possible that Maestro left his home country…

"Frederick/Frederich" was Maestro's original name a little around the time of the pilot, but his name was retconned because there's another Frederick planned for Hazbin Hotel (the von Eldritch family, which… I'm not the biggest fan of but eh). However, the name rolled off for Maestro rather well and suited him as a "alive" name, in the same way Vox was originally named Vincent before his death.

He probably just ditched it and went with "Maestro" because he didn't want to affiliate with his old life any longer, along with it just not being as intimidating.

This chapter was tweaked a lil too before I posted it. I didn't like how it came out, so I made mild revisions. Idk.

Chapter 27: Solo

Summary:

Aftermath of last chapter.

Maestro reminisces about the holidays he celebrated when he was alive.

Strawberry.

The flavor of the Love Potion.

“You… after all of that, you were going to drug Dominique?”

Maestro crushes the can in his right hand, the liquid contents evaporating in his flames. Emily stops hanging off of his arm, tending to the suddenly itchy Dominique. She comes to regret that decision once she sees Maestro throw the charred soda can in Tom’s direction.

“Hey! I thought I was going to be alone with them! You weren’t supposed to come along and barge in!”

When it came to his rage, Maestro was more the passive-aggressive, tranquil fury type. He pelted Valentino previously, burned the vehicle of that crass cabbie, certainly, but he did it with a calm smile.

This though? Between the time Emily left, his mask being broken, and him coming back to see Dominique drunk… or the time Tom gave Dominique a bottle of the Love Potion… that maggot somehow exceeded to a new low.

“You think that excuses it? You were putting crap in their drink for your own desire to fuck them!” 

Maestro’s antlers grow, candle wicks forming on the tips. His chest expands, with flames resembling the mane of an elk. A harsh bugling noise emerges from his jaws, which have extended to reveal long fangs. 

Wings sprout on Tom’s back, but compared to the overlord, his true demon form is small and feeble. This was also the first time anyone had heard Maestro drop the f-bomb so eloquently.

“Look, not for nothing, but they jerk off thinking about you all the time! What’s the big deal? They’re sexually active—”

“That’s not the point!”

Even Emily, who previously tried to hold Maestro back in lashing out, just stared at Tom Trench. Her look of disappointment is scarier than anything the overlord is doing, piercing Tom Trench with intense judgement.

“Maestro… let’s just go.” She says. “He isn’t worth it at all.”

He isn’t worth it.

That’s the first time Emily had said that about a sinner. Emily, who normally tried to see the good in any sinner she met.

The mane covering Maestro’s chest goes down, along with his antlers. He takes a breather, but not before destroying a nearby computer, ruining whatever written journalism Tom had backed up in there. That would be the end of that.

“You’re… right.” He seethes. “Dominique? Let’s get out of here. It won’t be long before Vox takes him back.”

“Yes sir.” The crinoid stands up next.

They all leave for the door, but Dominique stops to glance over their shoulder.

“You know… Tom… you could have just told me how you felt…”

They sounded so hurt.

With that, the crinoid exits last, leaving their longtime friend in a cold, empty container of his own making.

---

Weeks after that, Maestro passes by the old appliances store, seeing various televisions playing the 666 News.

Vox was back, but he was still only passively in charge rather than plastering his face everywhere, no doubt humiliated or not allowed to ruin the business image he destroyed with his nonsense. What’s more, Tom Trench seems to be back as co-anchorman, immediately being berated by Katie Killjoy.

Though, he definitely seems less responsive to the usual flinging. No one even seems to be bringing up his previous work or ‘truth nukes’ regarding Maestro’s relationship with Emily. Perhaps because if they did, it was now widely known that Valentino would end up looking bad for drugging an angel.

It’s a miracle Sera hadn’t requested any of them to be smited, but considering the exterminations, Heaven was trying to keep the peace the best they could.

The employee inside the appliance shop, annoyed by the news and grumbling about it, changes the channel to one of those holiday specials starring stop motion imps.

…

Sinsmas. It’s an anomaly to Maestro. A holiday made for imps, hellhounds, and other Hellborn to celebrate the circle they were born from and partake in sins. Why that of all things? Can’t they just do that on a birthday? Why did it have to be a Hell-wide thing? Even to the point where a famous succubus popstar wrote songs about Sinsmas that would play in retail stores across Hell.

It would be one thing if this was a holiday celebrating the birth of the Antichrist, but that would just be Princess Morningstar, wouldn’t it? That would make sense as Hell’s counterpart to Christmas, but instead it’s something else that Maestro doesn’t understand.

And to make things worse, a lot of sinners were too cynical to love Christmas anymore. Some were still hung up on nostalgia, some were detached from the commercialization of it. Maestro was the former, he fully admits, while his servants and employees often fell under the latter.

So, being reminded of the holiday season approaching left Maestro a little sad. He likes celebrating, but it tends to be by himself, with compositions he remembered making about the magic of winter.

This season… was also when Maestro missed his family the most. His real family. The first instance of being gifted a violin by his father on Christmas Day. It had been a bit sullied after the subsequent years of losing his parents, but it was still when he was the most passionate about music.

Other overlords didn’t care to the degree he did.

Vox and the other two Vees saw Christmas as nothing more than commercial marketing, milking the nostalgia from sinners like Maestro who couldn’t let go. Rosie was often a little sad that her roses would wilt from the cold. Zeezi couldn’t stand the chill on her scales or the bad music. Prick and Hatchet were too rebellious to care. Carmilla seems to have lost her spirit for the holiday since her husband left, though Zestial often tried to get her to warm up to it again.

The only other overlords who understood were the masked twins, who had since long gone missing after one of the exterminations. Sleuth, a detective, dirty cop overlord who also went missing. 

And Alastor. If anyone loved the fun times, drinking, jazzy tunes and holiday radio shows, it was him. Ironic. An elk and a deer were the ones who still appreciated Christmas.

He perks up just a bit in the midst of his thoughts.

Emily is an angel. Christ is probably in Heaven, no doubt a majority of angels happily celebrate Christmas, don’t they?

Perhaps he would ask her.

---

He stops at the Hazbin Hotel shortly after, with Alastor readily greeting his fellow overlord in a tacky sweater.

“Greetings, Maestro!” Alastor says with his usual plastered smile.

Looking around the interior, Maestro can see Nifty and Vaggi attempting to put up holiday-themed decorations. Rather than the Sinsmas variety however, it seems to be more akin to what Maestro is used to.

“As you can see, Miss Morningstar and Miss Emily decided to spruce the place up for sinners staying at the hotel, bringing them a little holiday cheer in an attempt to help them in their hopeless paths to redemption!” A bit of canned laughter comes from Alastor’s crackling.

Maestro looks up, watching Emily decorate the rails on the second floor with garland.

“I don’t think it’s hopeless. We’ve seen Pentious redeem himself.”

“A rare case, I assure you.”

“Alastor,” Maestro turns to face the radio demon, “why are you even here if you don’t believe in what Miss Emily is aiming for?”

“You know as well as I do! Sheer entertainment! That’s also why I was fine with roping you along into whatever forbidden feelings you might have!”Another roar of canned laughter. “I say though, you’ve gone a little soft, haven’t you? You would have never defended the concept before!”

Maestro admits he’s rather perturbed to be used as a means of entertainment by another overlord. Of course, Maestro also isn’t sure if he completely believes that’s the sole reason for Alastor staying. There had to be ulterior motives.

“Listen to me, Alastor, I’m not sure what you are planning… but if you lay a finger on Emily in some way, I assure you, I won’t hold back.”

Alastor just stands there, unmoving, half-lidded eyes, smiling.

“Maestro!”

He turns his head, hearing Emily calling to him from above as she flies down.

When Maestro glances back, Alastor is already gone.

Notes:

That's right, the finale for this fic is gonna be

crimas :)

Chapter 28: Carol

Summary:

Maestro plans a holiday gathering at his theater.

“I didn’t realize you had planned to have a natural, holiday experience here at the hotel.” Maestro says, going as far as to aid Emily by holding a box of ornaments for her as she continued decorating trees and garland.

“Oh, of course! Besides making the place feel more home-y, it’s a good way to encourage good will! And even if some sinners here have bad experiences with the holidays, they’re free to talk about it during therapy and we’ll always be careful enough to not bombard them with music!” She explains. “Well, at least that’s my method.”

Right, Maestro remembers that Miss Morningstar can be a little more… pushy, in comparison. Not that Maestro is going to be rude about Emily’s friend right in front of her.

“How does Heaven celebrate the holidays?” Maestro asks.

Her eyes brighten up like lights. “Usually we have fun amongst ourselves and Jeezy celebrates his birthday with everyone!”

Jeezy? What an odd way to refer to him…

“Would you… be upset if you missed it?”

“I planned to celebrate at the hotel this year for Christmas morning, then return to Heaven for Jeezy’s birthday. Why?”

Maestro clears his throat. “So, is Christmas Eve open for you? In terms of schedule, I mean. Because at this time of year, I hold end of the year performances. An adaptation of a Christmas story I had written on my own. Of course, I also do the more traditional ones commonly seen—”

He can hear Lucifer scoffing close by. Best to cut to the chase rather than brag.

“In other words, I’m very passionate about the holiday. I would be happy if you could spend Christmas Eve with me.” Maestro then hesitates. “Of course, you are also free to bring family and friends.”

Considering the pep talk Abel had given him last month, it wasn’t a bad idea to maybe give him some leeway. 

“I would love to! I’ll talk to my sister about it!”

By that she meant she was confirming it, right? And not actually bringing her older sister?…

During all of this, a man walks through the hotel doors and approaches the front desk. Wearing a coat and a thick scarf, only could vaguely see his gas-mask peeking through.

---

Emily later confirmed that yes, she was going to try to invite her older sister.

This complicated things.

Certainly, a good amount of sinners had warmed up to those in Heaven, especially Emily, but Sera… Sera was the one who issued the exterminations out of paranoia.

While perhaps Maestro could forgive it, others may not be able to. In which case, he might have to call and warn some of the overlords he had already invited. Well, most of the ones he invited. He hadn’t gotten around to everyone just yet for a couple of reasons.

One reason being… Rosie just wasn’t picking up.

He tried calling her again, but there was still no answer. It just went to voic mail. Maestro just thought it best to leave his message that he’s holding his usual yearly performance for the holidays, but there would be an unexpected visitor.

…

He realizes he never told Rosie that he and Emily are dating now.

Going over his voicemail a bit longer than he intended, Maestro did end up rambling about that, apologizing if he hurt Rosie. He’s so used to hearing her talk back with a playful comment that he finds himself uncomfortable with the silence that won’t respond.

When it came to conversations with Rosie, she dominated most of the time, with Maestro quietly nodding and responding briefly. When he got passionate enough, he could go on tangents, of course… this must have been one of those instances.

Realizing how awkward it is and that he’s wasting precious time, he finally hangs up, his eyes fixated on the phonebook.

Carmilla and Zestial. Of course, they were invited right off the bat. When Maestro explained a potential complication, Zestial was calm and understanding as ever. Carmilla seemed hesitant, but she said she would keep her distance to prevent confrontation over Carmilla’s involvement with angelic weaponry. She might be more reluctant to let her daughters attend in the audience this year.

Next was… Sleuth. Sleuth probably wouldn’t pick up. He’s most definitely dead.

That’s what Maestro thought, but to his surprise—

“Y’ello?”

A voice on the other end responds, filtered with audio that sounded like it belonged to an old noir film.

“Sleuth? You are… alive?”

“You call me for somethin’ Maestro? I’m pressed for time right ‘ere.”

Right. Just get straight to the point.

“Well, it’s been over seven years since any of the overlords last saw you, I thought you would like to attend my yearly winter concert this Christmas Eve. You know. Orchestras, ballets, opera?”

There’s a pause.

“Angels will be attending. Seraphs, I hope that isn’t a dealbreaker—”

“I ain’t got work that evenin’, so sure. Good to hear from you again, Maestro.”

Odd. He sounded more enthused and willing to attend when the angels were mentioned. Hopefully he didn’t have any hidden motives. Should he just be happy that Sleuth was alive and well? Maybe. But it is odd that he only resurfaced after Rosie disappeared.

He tries to push the concerns aside. Next was… Zeezi. She’s probably going to bail out. It already wasn’t her thing and any time she got invited, she never stayed for long, wanting to continue her partying.

“What’s up, gramps?” Zeezi laughs on the other end of the phone.

“I’m here to talk to you about the concert. I believe Emily’s sister is going to be attending, so I just wanted to warn you—”

“That all? It’s fine. I know you like them heavenly at this point.” Zeezi jokes, as if she’s trying to play it cool. “If anything, I was going to ask, uh… I’m allowed to like… bring a date, aren’t I?”

“Is this about the hellhound?” Maestro prods.

He can faintly hear Zeezi babbling, trying to come up with something to say as she’s put on the spot. “So what if it is? We unexpectedly got a good thing going since I last saw you!”

That was cute. “You’re allowed to bring her, and as usual, you’re allowed to leave early if you so wish.”

Confirming that she’ll be there and actually looks forward to the performances, Zeezi hangs up.

Now that just left… the Vees were most definitely not being invited. Alastor was acting a little suspicious as well. Prick and Hatchet? They would probably decline. 

Though that does remind Maestro that Amy, the Goetia president, was somehow listed in this book as if she were an average sinner. The numbers to dial her though, were akin to that of a summoning ritual rather than a simple combination.

It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?

He proceeds with the number inputs in a particular way, and the phone connects.

“Hola!” Amy greets. “Who is this? Can I help you?”

“Hello, Amy—”

“Oh! Señor Maestro! So good to hear from you again!” She squeals. “I was hoping you would call! I had so much fun helping those two overlords the other month. I told them their fortunes, guided them accordingly, and they sent me little ‘thank you’ gifts!” The hedgehog Goetia can hardly contain her joy.

Maestro is surprised by such a development, but in a good way. Not a bad surprise at all. If anything, he’s glad things sailed as smoothly for those two as things had for him and Emily. “How lovely. I know this is a tall ask for a Goetia such as yourself, but I am holding my yearly concert this winter… and as a friend of sorts, as well as part of my gratitude, I thought I would invite you.”

Another gasp escapes Amy. “Me? As an audience member? I’m so used to being the one putting on a show, I don’t usually get called in to be a spectator. I’d be more than happy to attend!”

“There will be—”

“Yes, I’m sure you somehow got more angelic, heavenly visitors coming. I know these things, darling. I might invite some friends of my own if that’s alright. See you soon!”

She could predict that but not the idea of being invited? What a strange woman…

Hopefully her bringing extra friends wouldn’t be an inconvenience.

Notes:

I'm actually near ALMOST finished with this fic in its entirety, the last two chapters are in back-up. :)