FicMoe97

Hanging on The Edge of Tomorrow

A canvas of stars dotted a seemingly endless night sky. Millions of celestial bodies billions of miles away, yet they shone bright enough to illuminate the landscape below. Reflected in those stars were an equally expansive collection of flowers, dazzlingly white in an ocean of grass. A small figure lay outlined here, lost in the waves of this picturesque environment.

Their chest rose subtly with the smallest breath; red eyes blinked open to the sky above. A groan escaped Shadow's lips as he sat up and surveyed his surroundings. To him it appeared as if he was the only soul that existed on this ethereal plane, with miles and miles of vegetation stretching out to the dark horizon.

Shadow winced, his head pounding as a flurry of memories rushed through his head. GUN. The professor. Sonic. Earth. The eclipse cannon. They stopped it just in time, together they saved humanity from annihilation. And then... darkness. Where was he now?

He stood up to get a better view of his environment, every muscle aching as he did so. Shadow turned slowly, his eyes darting to and fro for any other signs of life, until they stopped on a familiar silhouette. He froze in place, his breath held still as his heart leaped to his throat.

They appeared in the form of a small child, a girl, with long blonde hair spilling down halfway down her back. She held her arms in front of her, her blue dress wafted gently in the slight breeze. She didn't appear to notice his presence there; her head remained tilted up to the twinkling lights above them.

It couldn't be her, it was impossible. And yet, despite that, Shadow couldn't help but call her name.

"Maria?" The name left his mouth in a whisper, the visage too good to be true.

The figure's head tilted to the sound of his voice, then slowly turned. Golden locks gave way to a slender face, wherein sat two brilliant, unmistakable blue eyes. They were filled with recognition when they met his widened portals, and a beaming smile followed shortly after.

"There you are, Shadow! Where have you been?"

She asked as if nothing had happened. Like they still lived together in the GUN facility and this was another night under the stars. As if the events that transpired fifty years ago never occurred.

It didn't make sense, but it didn't have to. Before Shadow realized he had crossed the distance between them in a few strides and had locked into a tight hug with his long-lost sister. Water stung at the edges of his vision. He couldn't remember a time where he ever felt this way. Long had he been consumed by rage, he never had the time to feel sorrow.

"Maria," he murmured into her blouse, burying his face into the fabric and staining it with fresh tears. "I... I thought I lost you."

"Lost? I've always been here, Shadow," she giggled. "I've been waiting for you."

Her arms wrapped around Shadow's head, the warmth her embrace carried was a sensation he had sorely missed. It felt welcoming, like he was truly home again. Together with the only person he cared for in his life.

“Tom!”

His lids lifted, a wave of cold washing through him that cut through this reunion. The distressed cry of that other hedgehog rang soundly in his ears. Slowly, he pushed himself free and stepped back. Maria's arms trailed after him before they slowly dropped to her sides. When he looked up to face her, he found her expression filled with worry.

"Shadow? What's wrong?"

Shadow's mouth drew into a straight line, a lump building in his throat. "I... I did something, Maria. Something terrible."

His eyes turned downcast, his hand clenched in a fist as more of his memory returned to him. Every action he took prior to this almost perfect moment. He shook his head.

"I hurt someone, took him away from those who loved him most, because he stood in the way of my mission."

He refused to look at Maria, afraid to face her judgement. He'd welcome scorn from anyone, it was the least he deserved. But not her.

"And what was that, Shadow?"

Whether she didn't understand what he said or simply refused to address it, Shadow didn't know. The confession came regardless.

"I wanted to destroy the whole world because... I hated that they took you away from me. GUN, Walters, humanity. I wanted them all to pay for that. They almost did."

He took another step back. Even being near her felt like it was too much to bear.

"They were right about me, Maria. The scientists we grew up with. I'm just another weapon. An alien freak like in that movie."

With each guilty remark he took another step back, putting as much distance between himself and Maria as possible. On the last step his foot failed to find solid purchase and he slipped back. The fall was short and he found himself lying on his back once more. Only this time, he couldn't find the strength to get back up. He didn't want to. He wanted to lie down until he returned to the black void he woke up from. Until everything, even his own heart, fell silent.

"You said almost."

Shadow blinked his eyes open, Maria's voice suddenly in his ear, and he turned his head to find her lying beside him. Like they had done so many times before. Her eyes held no malice, no deep hatred for him. They only implored him to open his heart to her.

For a moment, he struggled to find the words, until he managed a strangled, "What?"

"You almost destroyed the world. But you didn't, did you?"

Shadow's eyes lowered for a moment, then he twisted his head to look at the sky.

"No, I couldn't."

"Why not?"

He looked off for a moment, the image of that blue hedgehog came to the forefront of his mind.

"I was reminded of something you told me." He looked up to the white, twinkling canvas that remained above them just as it had when he first awoke. "That even after a star is long gone, its light still shines."

“I wanted to believe I did it all for you,” he explained, his voice cracking with guilt, “but you never would have wanted that. So I stopped it. But that doesn't change what I've done to him, and I don't know if I can-"

Shadow stopped when he heard a soft giggle arise from Maria. He turned his head with a quizzical expression, confused by her reaction.

"Is there something funny in what I said?"

"A little," she said, stifling her laugh. "Weapons don't normally feel remorse. At least not the kind we saw in the movie."

Shadow caught a gasp in his throat and let it die to a thoughtful hum. Maria smiled at him and adjusted herself so she lay on her side, her head propped up in a hand.

"No one is perfect, Shadow, not even the ultimate life form. You made a mistake-"

"A mistake that could have destroyed everyone!" He exclaimed in protest, resistant to her compassionate words, yet Maria shook her head.

"But it didn't! You saved everyone. Because when you had the choice you kept true to who you are, in here." She placed a hand against the soft tuft of fur on his chest.

He followed her touch before he returned to her eyes, sparkling with the same admiration she always shared with him. An emotion he felt he didn’t deserve anymore. Yet they were there all the same.

"Just like I knew you would."

That quiet affirmation threatened to undo him completely. How someone as pure as her could place so much faith in one as corruptible as himself, he couldn’t begin to comprehend. He tenderly took Maria’s hand in his and put it back by her side.

"That still doesn't change the one I already hurt."

Maria followed his arm until it relinquished its hold on her, then turned her head back to the stars and shrugged as if the solution was obvious.

"All the more reason, then, that you go make it right."

Shadow’s brow furrowed. "How? If I'm here, with you, then I can't-"

"Yes, you're here. But only for a moment.” She looked back over to him. “You still have a life to live, Shadow."

"A life?" The idea of anything beyond his short-sighted quest for revenge left him befuddled. He almost immediately rejected the thought. “No, you deserve that more than me. Not what…” His voice trailed off, an image of her motionless form overlapped on top of her seemingly living visage like some sort of bad dream.

“Shadow,” Maria said, her voice cutting through the mirage with a level of conviction that contrasted her typically quiet voice. “You can’t change what’s already happened. But you can heal, grow, learn. That’s how you live.”

It almost seemed stoic, coming from her, but even Shadow didn’t miss the tears that started to gather in her eyes. Too soon it felt like she was saying goodbye.

"What will I do without you?"

"You'll figure it out. You already know where to start."

Sonic.

Shadow sighed, knowing she was right, even if in his mind and body he wanted to stay in this moment forever. "Very well. Just... I wish to stay here a little while longer."

Maria smiled and took Shadow's hand in hers with a gentle squeeze. "Take as long as you need. And when you go, remember, I'll always be with you, Shadow."

Shadow looked at her hand, so small in comparison to his larger, gloved one. He gave it a similar squeeze in return, and turned his gaze back to the constellations high above him. Slowly, a smile arose to his face, one that had been absent for far too long. They lay there, hand in hand, until Shadow felt a deep exhaustion overcome him. His eyes closed, and when they reopened they saw a sky painted in the deep yellows and oranges of sunrise. A familiar warmth still lingered in his chest, even as the ghost of her hand grew colder, and he finally felt some semblance of peace.

Back at Team Dark headquarters, aka an undisclosed apartment building somewhere in the city, Omega has been alerted to an important new event.

"Shadow!" He exclaimed, then emerged from the kitchen a moment later with a pink apron tightly wrapped around his wide metal form.

In the living room adjacent, Shadow lay back lazily on the couch and watched the television, paying no heed to his friend's call. Omega stood patiently in the doorway and stared intently into the side of Shadow's head as he awaited some form of response. Eventually, the glow of his red eyes proved too aggravating to his sight, and Shadow finally turned to him.

"What is it, Omega? And why are you in an apron?"

Rather than answer either question, he stood up straight and asked, "Do you know what today is?"

Shadow gave a gruff sigh. "No, enlighten me."

"The current date is April 17th, 2024, or as it is known by Bat Conservation International, International Bat Appreciation Day."

Shadow nodded, not really listening to what he said, "That's very nice, Omega."

A beat of silence hung between them, with the only audible sound emanating from the television.

Omega then clarified. "Rouge is a bat."

"I am aware."

Another pause.

"I will be baking a cake for her for the next two hours, at least according to the recipe I found by Jonathan Blake on BakingLife.com. She won't be back for another hour after that. I would advise you find a way to show your appreciation, Shadow. She is a good friend."

Shadow closed his eyes and sighed, then looked back at Omega and gave him a soft smile "I know, Omega. Don't worry, I have something in mind already."

"Very good."

The lumbering robot turned around and marched back into the kitchen, letting the door swing shut behind him. While he prepared the aforementioned recipe, Shadow gave a quick glance at the door that separated them. Then he reached for his phone and opened up his messages.

A little over an hour later, the kitchen door opened again as Omega came out with

"Shadow, I have come to inform you the cake is complete! By streamlining the baking process I have optimized its total time by thirty minutes. I will have to inform the creator of this disco-"

As he shared his culinary achievement, however, he was interrupted as a purple lacey bra smacked his face. When it fell to the ground, his receptors analyzed the scene before him. Clothing had been strewn about the once-tidy living space, and his two friends were entangled with one another in a way he had been unfortunately exposed to multiple times before.

"Ah! Oh my, Shadow! You really know how to appreciate your bat!" Rouge moaned, unaware of the third party among them. Shadow, too preoccupied between her legs, remained equally ignorant.

Omega watched blankly for a moment before he echoed in an almost disappointed monotone, "Really? Right in front of your appreciation cake?"

The first step is always the hardest.

That phrase had been spun so many times around Alastor he began to wonder if it was true. It certainly felt that way when he finally conceded to a new deal with the darling princess. To truly take part in her ideas of redemption. Once he found it laughable. But much like that old chestnut, it wore out its humor. When the last of his love's soul slipped through his fingers, he took it for the plausible reality it proved to be.

The truth is, the step itself isn't what makes it hard, it's what comes after. Every step is taken with a goal in mind. A set destination, an end point. But the journey there is a mystery. A dangling question with no set answer. That great unknown is what brings hesitation, with the beginning and end being absolutely certain. Only when one focuses on the end goal can they convince themselves it's attainable. So his first step landed assuredly, but here is where he remained frozen.

Was it really this simple? After everything he had done, the bad and the good, could he move forward? He almost expected a challenge, he anticipated it, yet the path ahead remained as empty as ever. As if it had always waited for him. Waited for him to take that next step. So, hesitantly, he did.

Behind him lay his past. The darkness that enshrouded him and kept him captive, trapped even in his own body. But it also held his friends, the connections he made over countless years, and the ones who helped him on this path to begin with. The thought of them made it even harder to go on. He owed them everything, but they were not his captors. Even now they encouraged him forward, so he took another step.

Before him laid his future. Endless possibilities, so bright it cast aside the gloom of the mystery beyond. As he gazed up into that ethereal light, he felt a swell rise in his chest. It uplifted him and filled him with an almost foreign warmth. Almost. Those next few steps came easier than the ones before.

As he drew closer to the glow ahead, that heat radiated outward, and with it a lifetime of memories. Much like what he had envisioned the first time he died before he was reborn anew. Only this time he saw his life thereafter, and everything that came with it.

The misery he inflicted on others, the years of perpetual torment twisted into his perverse form of entertainment. Their screams weighed heavily on his shoulders and seemingly threatened to slow his step. Where he had practically jogged, he painfully forced one foot in front of the other. As if Hell itself threatened to pull him back down. The weight of everything he had done enough to damn him all over again.

Anguished, nameless faces filled his vision and forced him to a standstill. The ease in the climb had been a ruse, as he suspected, yet even he couldn't have anticipated their protestation. The souls he ensnared shamed him for daring to tread a path not meant for him. Their vitriol quickly grew to a fever pitch, and Alastor couldn't help but agree with them.

Maybe it wasn't redemption in of itself that had been so laughable, but the idea that it could have been meant for him. He, who had delighted in the suffering of others, who had done his share of evil in the land of the living and dead. Alastor could blind himself with the morals he adhered to, but he couldn't blind those cut down by his hand.

His foot slipped down a step, and his smile dipped for the smallest fraction of a second. His eyes darted to the ball of light overhead, flickering like a dying candle. Even now the sight of it brought some meager warmth, only to be doused by the cold truth hissed in his ears. He had come close, but no cigar.

If this was meant to be his fate, then so be it. He had taken the fall before, he would do so once more. Besides, no one would be waiting for him up there, no matter what anyone else told him. Only a couple people came to mind who would even care for his absolution, yet it had been so long even they would have forgotten him by now.

As he tilted back to permit gravity to take him where he always belonged, a clawed hand shot through the wailing spirits and grabbed him. A gust of wind blew away those tormented souls and made Alastor wince. When the last of their shrieks faded to nothing, he looked up at his savior, and his breath caught in his throat.

Great white wings spread out to either side of them; gilded symbols alternated along their length. They led behind an equally white suit and tie, the dress beneath the jacket a deep blue. Although he traded red and black patterns in his fur for white and gold, he could never mistake his closest friend; his ally, and the man he wronged the most. His dear Husker.

Of all the people Alastor expected to see again, Husk had never been one of them, and that shock registered clear on his face. Although they came to better terms the last few years he had been under his employ, Alastor could never bring himself to say what needed to be said. Even when he relinquished his chains after so long, he said nothing. He simply watched in silence as his friend flew away to join the others in paradise. Those far more deserving than him.

After all, what could he say? What words could ever account for the cruelty he inflicted over an entire lifetime? How could he possibly make amends?

As if he had peered into his thoughts, Husk offered him a smirk. "It starts with sorry."

Alastor eyed him warily, suspicious of another trick. He had fallen for this road's deception once already, and he nearly lost hope of ever being reunited with the one he loved most. Of all people, Husk had little reason to see his ascent through. It would be a great irony now, after he failed to do so in the past, that all he desired was an apology.

Even Husk seemed aware of this as he cocked his head at Alastor before he brought him into a tight hug.

"We both made bad deals. But it's over now. You aren't alone anymore."

Alastor remained speechless. He hadn't uttered a word, yet Husk had already forgiven him. Ready to truly put the past behind them to focus on the future. His future. It was a sentiment he didn't deserve. Not when so much had been left unsaid between them.

Hesitantly, he brought his arms around Husk's back and returned the embrace. Through the weaved fabric he felt his downy fur, and it acted as a small source of comfort to his conflicted mind. It released a shuddered breath from his lips, and he finally found his voice.

"I am truly sorry, for everything, dear Husker. I've wanted to tell you this for so long but... pride is a fickle thing, isn't it? I've hung onto that longer than anything else. Let everyone slip through my fingers, Niffty, you... mon ange. I do not deserve this."

He finally admitted it all to him, an apology more wholehearted than anything he had ever given before. Even then it still didn't feel like enough, not that he believed anything could account for two lifetimes of sin. He felt Husk nod against his shoulder as if they shared the same thought.

"Once upon a time, I would have agreed. But it's like you said, pride is a killer. It brought me down lower than I ever thought possible, played me right into your hands. If I never let go of that pride, I don't think I would've ever ended up here."

He paused to let that admission sink in, before he further admitted, "It took some time, but I've learned to forgive ya, Al. Maybe someday, you'll even be able to forgive yourself. But now, I think it's about time you get going. Someone's been waiting a long time for you to get here."

When Husk withdrew from their embrace, Alastor looked past him to find his climb had finished. During their brief reconciliation, Husk had quietly carried him all the way to the top. That small glowing dot on the horizon had expanded to a glorious, eternal view of Heaven's gate. Gilded bars that stood high above him; they stretched to either side as far as the eye could see, seemingly into infinity.

Alastor looked on in awe of the sight, only to have his attention diverted when the doors inlaid between softly swung inwards. Through the small partition that formed, a single figure stepped through. Much like Husk, they dressed in all white, in a beautiful gown akin to that of a bride's. A white boot peeked through its part with each step they took; a golden choker locked around their neck. Unlike Husk, however, their visage had barely changed at all since he saw them last. Although their eyes glistened with sapphire orbs, Alastor could never mistake the appearance of his Angel.

Overwhelmed with what felt like a lifetime of emotions, he didn't know whether to weep at the sight, fall to his knees, run to them, or all three. In that confusion, he looked over at Husk, and the old barcat simply nodded over to the man at the gates. Alastor took that gesture as permission to go to them, and he quickly covered the distance between them in only a few strides. Tears built in the corners of his eyes with each step, and by the time they collided the two lovers wept with immense joy.

They came together as naturally as if they had never been split apart. The feeling of Angel in his arms was nothing short of euphoric. He had made it. As impossible as he would have once believed, he made it. And now that he had him again, he found it hard to let him go.

The feeling was mutual, if Angel's grip around his head was anything to go by. When Alastor finally raised his head just enough to meet Angel's loving gaze, their eyes wet with tears, he choked on a sob.

Angel nodded. "Y'know... red was always your color, but you don't look too bad in white neither."

Upon the remark, Alastor ducked his head to look at himself. Unbeknownst to him, his tattered red suit had changed into a pristine white, just as Angel said. His sleeves free of any muck or grime, and not a speck of blood to be seen on his front. He could only imagine what else about his appearance had changed. Truly a clean slate.

Alastor snorted at the observation before he ducked his head against Angel's chest. "I missed you... so much."

He felt Angel's fingers card through the back of his hair. "I did too. I can't believe you did it, you crazy son of a bitch."

Feeling more jovial, Alastor perked his head with a raised brow. "Are you implying you doubted my success?"

Angel appeared to consider the question for a moment, before he ultimately dropped the act with a smile and shook his head. "No, never."

While he answered half-jokingly, Alastor responded more seriously. "I promised I'd come back to you. Whatever it takes."

Angel teased his lip and nodded. "I know." Then he smirked and quipped, "Took you long enough."

Alastor chortled and slowly threaded his hand with one of Angel's lower ones, their fingers interlocking. "You won't ever have to wait anymore, mon ange. I'll be by your side, forever."

Angel shuddered a breath as he took Alastor's head in his upper hands. "I'd like that more than anything."

His vow reciprocated, Alastor's eyes lidded as Angel lowered his head and took his lips in his own. Soft and sweet, it marked the end to their long time apart, and the beginning of their new eternity together.

A change of pace from my recent string of ship/smut fics, but I was seriously inspired by shelby's Hazbin Infected AU and really wanted to write something about it. The horror element really drew me in and I tapped into that as best I could when writing this potential scenario within the AU. I plan on this being a two part story, with the second part's narrative somewhat determined based on how they present the fates of the other characters. If it comes that it will conflict with my idea for the ending then I'll just wing it, creative liberties and all that. But I seriously love what they've come up with thus far and I can't wait to see the other ideas they have. Y'all should totally follow if you don't want to miss out!

Angel heaved another sigh as he rested his chin in his palm, propped up on the table at which he sat. It stood draped in white cloth, with an unlit candle on its surface, next to a basket of bread that wasn't as freshly baked as it was thirty minutes ago. He would occasionally glance at it as his nerves began to get the better of him, but he refrained from eating just yet. To the point he had sent the waiter away three times now, and he debated on if he should stick around for a fourth time. But as he cast his eyes back to the empty seat in front of him, he sighed again, and gave himself another ten minutes.

He didn't know what kept his date so long. He told them the exact location, even stepped outside to make sure he got the address right. Normally in situations like this he'd send them a text or call, but that only worked when the recipient had a phone.

So all he could do now was wait. Wait in a dress he hadn't worn in ages, whose glittery sequins danced in the low ambient lighting and made him shine a radiant pink. Paired with gloves as pristine as the tablecloth they rested on, and heels to match. He even redid his makeup on the off-chance it got messy during his working hours. This is all to illustrate the lengths he went to present himself in a way he thought would be to his date's liking. A date that is remarkably absent.

Angel's eyes flitted up as he caught movement from the corner of his eye, only to see the same smartly-dressed imp stroll to his table, booklet in hand. He came bearing a friendly smile any waiter would be forced to have, only for it to dip when their eyes met the lone actor's. Angel gave him a simple shake of his head, and they changed course without another glance his way. Much like the untouched bread, Angel's temperament only grew colder.

His head fell into his hands as he heaved a heavier sigh, more than ready to leave. But just as he made up his mind, the sound of metal being scraped along hardwood floor graced his ears with all the subtlely of a car crash. Angel grit his teeth and winced as he looked up to spot what created all this commotion. That's when he noticed the chair he had reserved had started to make its getaway.

It gratingly slid away from the table with no obvious insight as to who or what piloted it. From where he sat, Angel assumed some imp or other small demon decided to take it without asking. His brow furrowed at the audacity and he snapped his fingers.

"Hey!" Angel exclaimed. "Seat's taken, short-stack! Hands off!"

All at once the chair stopped moving, and Angel relaxed believing that managed to deter the mysterious chair thief. Only for the reality to be made clear when a small, red form hopped into the seat. At first, he only managed to make out the black tufts of its ears as they stood above the lip of the table, with antlers between them that looked all too familiar. Then, when it hopped its front paws onto the table itself with a swish of its small tail, Angel saw clearly what, or rather who, he looked at.

Sharp yellow teeth aligned in deadly rows into a wide smile. A monocle rested on his face before reddened eyes as they stared unblinkingly through it at Angel. Although, that assumed they had the capability to blink anymore. Something not in question for the spider, as he found he could only do that for a solid minute as he tried to process the unexpected turn of events.

Eventually, he settled back into apathy as he crossed his arms over each other and faced the creature with an arched brow.

"Really, Al? Why can't we have a normal date for once?"

He asked that question as if he expected the Alastor creature to answer. Of course, it appeared speech was beyond him now, as he seemingly vibrated in place at the inquiry. Eventually, one of his paws reached below the table before it came up with a gift in hand. A freshly cut red rose.

The pride in which Alastor displayed this gift, his mouth hung agape, was admittedly endearing. Despite his extreme tardiness and lack of any attempts to present himself, or explain his current condition, Angel found the gesture oddly charming. In that moment, he pushed any qualms he had with him to the back of his mind. They would be dealt with later, privately. For now, he wanted to make the most of it. So he chose to play along.

"Awwww, for me, cutie? You shouldn't ha-"

Not even halfway through his sentence, however, Alastor somehow made the situation even stranger. As he held up the flower, expectant for Angel to accept it, the spider instead watched with widened eyes as something came up from the creature's mouth.

He couldn't make out what emerged from the depths of his maw, at first. But as it slunk out into the light he saw the bloody tips of human digits; which slowly became whole fingers attached to an entire hand.

Angel's lips pulled tightly into a disturbed grimace as those fingers made contact with the table. They curled inward and dragged red streaks over the once-immaculate dining cloth as more of it came out. A single red eye twitched violently from the effort. All of this proceeded in absolute silence, until Alastor violently wretched and the hand, now an entire arm, had been expelled.

So he sat, a cat-creature thing, with a rose in one hand and an entire arm erupted from his mouth, and poor Angel had to finally accept the reality he put himself in when he pursued a romantic relationship with the eccentric overlord.

With a groan that echoed that finality, he sagged back into his seat.

"Forget it."

Hey all! Dropped a new fic yesterday based around my latest ship obsession, cherrisnake! I tell ya, the art I've seen based around these two has been so sweet, cute, funny, sexy, and so much more in-between. I practically felt compelled to write a fic around them that captured all the major themes around their dynamic, in around 7,300 words. So if y'all want to see that... link is below! Hope you enjoy, as always ❤️

Link

//implied dubcon, disassociation

The bed felt like a stone slab when Valentino laid him down. Cold and uncompromising, it made Angel's body ache more than everything he had put him through that night. Even if he had the strength to move, nothing would alleviate that dull pain. Not when he hovered over him with his dark, crimson eyes; his mouth agape and drooling with poisoned words and deadly venom.

One more dance on the knife's edge, then he would be free, if only temporarily.

But this time felt different. Despite the substances that flooded his brain and numbed his senses, he couldn't fake it like he had before. When his tongue dragged up the side of his neck it brought a terrible shiver through his body. Through lidded eyes Angel saw him pull away briefly, and all too soon he felt the veil dissipate. As if he sobered to the reality of where he lie.

Every action he took flooded back to his mind in tempestuous waves. His heart began to race, a sob choked in his throat. He couldn't panic now. Not on Valentino's time.

A gold-clawed hand carded through the excess fluff on his chest. Callous digits as unwelcoming as the surface he had been forced down upon. His teeth gleamed with a sinister, red grin; sharp and deadly, especially with the sole gold tooth that stood out from his gums. The more Angel focused on the feelings, the details on his face, the more aware he became.

He needed to shut it out. Shut it all out before he went any further. Before he couldn't take any more.

"Hey, Legs, why so tense? I'm not doin' anythin' wrong, am I?"

When Angel blearily blinked through tired eyes, the scenery changed. The darkness of Valentino's private room gave way to more vibrant colors. Red smoke filtered out to brilliant rays of sunlight from an unknown source. Above him, basked in that light like a halo, was his favorite kitty cat; his dark fur accented with intricate patterns of white and red, while his wings lay outstretched to either side and completed this holy visage.

"Husky...?" He asked, confused.

The tired barcat smirked. "Yeah, it's me. Geez, must be rustier than I thought. I know I haven't done something like this in a while but still..."

His voice trailed off with a chuckle, one that slowed the rapid beat of Angel's heart and warmed it. He still couldn't understand how or when he got here, and a part of him didn't want to question it. Fearful that he got lost in a dream, he held his breath and waited to see where it went.

When Husk noticed how Angel continued to stare at him with his mouth agape, his brows turned up in concern. "Are you sure you're ok?"

He raised a careful paw up to Angel's cheek and lovingly brushed a white claw under his chin. It proffered a feeling of safety and security. Much like the warmth of the sheets beneath him, and the pillow that cushioned his head. Still unsure of this reality, he took it tentatively, and noted how much smaller his hands looked in comparison to that larger appendage.

It all felt so real, too real to be a dream. As did Husk's other hand, wrapped tightly around his waist. He closed his eyes, the ghost of a tear trailed down his cheek. Just a bad memory of his night with Valentino. The morning had come, and with it, the promise of a better day. He gave into his shelter with a contented smile as he looked back up at his love.

"Better, now that you're here."

Husk reflected his smile with a grin of his own. He reached out of Angel's line of sight for a moment, then came back with a small joint. Something the pornstar had confided in him that he'd use to take the edge off on occasion.

"Wanna hit? I won't tell Charlie if you don't."

Angel looked between the drug and Husk, somewhat surprised he'd even offer it to him. Given how much he wanted him to adhere to the princess's program, it felt out of character to say the least. But as he thought this, he remembered how long it had been since he touched any illicit substances outside the studio. Besides, he trusted him to keep him in check. One hit wouldn't hurt anybody. It certainly wouldn't ruin his chances at redemption.

He raised his head and took the spliff between his lips. The hand Husk had around his waist came up with a procured lighter. It snapped open with a small flame that lit the end into a trail of grey smoke.

Angel watched the thin wisp draft to the ceiling through crossed eyes. When he exhaled, it was a sickly sweet plume of red that left his mouth.

"That's it, Angel-cakes, deep breaths," Valentino encouraged through Husk's lips. "You got a long night ahead of you."

Angel continued to dine on that cyanide, unable to feel the chill that flowed back into his body.

-

"You know how insignificant he was when I found him? He practically pried the door to my car open to get what I offered. Oh he was so eager to snort coke off my dick then, but now? He thinks he's too good to ANSWER MY CALLS!"

Another gunshot resounded through the room, followed by a dull thud as one of Vox's ex-employees fell to the floor. Blackened blood formed a macabre heart from the pattern of bullets lodged in their chest, before it quickly spilled over and pooled onto the floor. They lay just beside their fellow coworker, whose body had grown cold in the time Valentino took to get to his latest victim. While Vox would normally applaud his stamina in more intimate scenarios, he had long grown tired with his persistent discontent in regards to one of his own employees.

As promised, he had called the most inefficient of his workforce for an impromptu meeting at V Tower's penthouse. They believed they had been summoned for their stellar performance in the recent quarter, and expected to receive compensation for their efforts. Which, in a way, wasn't a lie. It amazed Vox just how much these three in particular dragged his sales down compared to their contemporaries, and he believed they deserved recognition for their ineptitude. It's their fault if they didn't appreciate how he showed it.

However, that supposed they could express any emotions other than the deadpan stare they faced Valentino with as he shot them down one by one. Another technological invention courtesy of VoxTech. All employees are required by contract to be chipped before they accept the position. It helped regulate sleep so they could work 24/7 without breaks, kept their minds clear of unwarranted thoughts, and made them wholly compliant to his will. If he wanted them to jump, they'd jump as high as he desired, and if he wanted them to stand still so Valentino could use them for target practice, it was good for that too.

"Sounds like a real pain in the ass, Val," Vox responded from his laid-back position on the nearby sofa. "Makes you wonder why you keep him on the team."

While he had feigned interest in his business at first, as any good partner should, he dropped all pretenses by this point. Ever since the stupid slut of a spider entered Valentino' life, he had become an unwanted wedge in their relationship. Whether he recognized that or cared, Vox couldn't tell anymore, and his less than subtle insinuations towards that fact had gone clear over his bald head. So he responded only when required, but otherwise passed the time with his third game of solitaire on his internal display.

Valentino dropped his gun arm and cast a look over at Vox, who to him appeared to stare off into space much like the drones he used to blow off steam. His finger curled around the trigger, tempted to aim it at Vox, but he thought better of it and relaxed with a barely-controlled exhale.

"He's still under contract because he is still useful to me. He isn't like one of these," he waved his hand at the remaining body, "drones sin sentido you employ in your division. You can't slap what he has on just anyone and expect it to work. Trust me... I've tried."

Black heels sharply snapped against the linoleum floor as Valentino walked in front of the remaining employee. He cradled his gun in his hands, and admired how the rhinestones that adorned the side glittered his name in the overhead lights.

"Tony is like a clay, and I am his sculptor. He possessed talent, and I shaped it into something meaningful. We've seen that for ourselves. Without me, he was nothing, and if he thinks he can continue to ignore me, he will be nothing again."

Vox paused his digital game and returned his attention to the world around him. It was rare for his partner to display such a level of insight, and he couldn't help but raise a brow. His interest piqued once more, he raised himself up on his elbows and looked at Valentino.

The moth stood just in front of him, yet his eyes never left his gun. His grip on it seemingly tightened, then he threw his arms out to either side.

"I mean I made him a star, god dammit! Where's my fucking respect, huh? If that fucking slut thinks he can blow me off like this, I'm going to make him get on his hands and knees so he can remember how to do it properly. I could film it too, been a while since I starred in one of my own movies."

Vox tuned out his subsequent chuckle and rested back down, disappointed that he even gave him the benefit of doubt. But before he could relaunch his game, he saw Valentino look down at him.

"What do you think, baby? Still got another performance in me?"

Finally, something somewhat unrelated to Angel. Vox smiled and stood up. "Do you really have to ask? Or do I have to play you last night's recording?"

Valentino feigned a shocked gasp. "Voxxy! You didn't tell me you recorded that!"

While he appeared bashful, the look he gave Vox as he approached was anything but. So when the media mogul extended a hand, Valentino gladly accepted it with one of his own, before he got pulled into his embrace.

"I record everything, Val, you know that. Don't want to forget a single moment of our time together. I even have a server dedicated to you."

He raised his other hand to cup his cheek and the moth happily rested his head against it. A blush rose to his cheeks that made Vox's heart skip a beat. For as much as he would openly express his disinterest in his affairs, he could never lose his fixation with this man. He reserved a spot within him beyond that of his hard drive space.

These moments where there was no one else but them, where they held each other in equal captivation, were most serene. But, unfortunately for Vox, they never lasted long.

"Well, if I'm that good, perhaps I could do something with Angel-"

Vox flinched at the name. No, he wouldn't allow it this time. "Or," Vox grinned back at Valentino, "how about we go out? I'll treat you to something nice, then after that we make something of our own?"

Valentino bit his lip at the idea and shifted in place. Behind his heart-shaped lenses, he looked down between him and Vox. The televsion demon followed his gaze, and from the corner of his eye he saw he held a phone in one of his lower hands. He quickly looked back at Valentino before he realized, and the lustful sinner subsequently pocketed the device.

"Well, since my Angel doesn't seem to be answering my calls, I wouldn't mind going out. Been a while since that's happened too."

Although Valentino held no malice behind the observation, it grated on Vox nonetheless. He didn't let that show on his face, however, as he shifted his hands down to Valentino's waist. Then he reached back and stroked the inside of his wings, taking delight in how he shivered and moaned softly.

"Let's see if we can fix that, shall we?" He asked cockily.

When he glanced up at him, the moth held a hand over his mouth as if to block the sounds that fell from his lips. Vox didn't stop his touches until he had been left visibly shaken, at which point he replaced his hands on Valentino's hips. The moth released a breath he had held as he dropped his hand to join another on Vox's shoulders. He let them hang loosely while his lower hands similarly took Vox's sides to reflect how he positioned his hands on his body.

"You're such a tease," Valentino squeaked, which elicited a chuckle from Vox.

"Only cause I know you love it. Now, before we head out, you mind closing business for today?"

Valentino gave a confused hum and raised a brow, to which Vox subtlely tilted his head towards the employee who blankly watched their exchange unfold. He followed his gesture, then gave a soft noise of understanding; as if he had been reminded about neglected housework. Then he unceremoniously lifted his gun again and fired it once directly into the man's head.

Rather than form the same, beautiful heart pattern that the bullets made as they spread out from the gun, their impact caused his head to explode into a fine, black mist. He flew back as if hit by a car and toppled to the ground only a few feet away from the other two. Blood spilled quickly over the tiles and formed a thick puddle around the corpse. With that, their meeting had concluded.

As Valentino pocketed his gun, satisfied, and took a delighted Vox's hand, the twin doors that led into the room burst open.

"Aight, what the fuck is goin' on? When I heard the first gunshot I thought Valentino finally put one in ya, Vox. After the second, I thought he did 'imself in. So you mind tellin' me-"

Before she could rant any more, Velvette walked in far enough to see the small staging area where Vox had set up his veritable range for Valentino to use. The sight of those three bodies on the floor barely registered in her eyes. What caught her attention, however, was where they had been positioned.

"Oi, oi!" She snapped her fingers with an incredulous look and pointed at the corpse closest to her. "What the bloody hell were you thinkin' doin' this here? You see how close you are to the carpet?"

While the both of them looked down, Vox subsequentlu raised his head and flippantly hand-waved away her concern.

"Relax, Vel, their blood won't even be able to reach the carpet, I made sure to position them accordingly to avoid that."

"You better hope so, Vox, otherwise you're payin' to replace it, and not for cheap neither." She shook her head, then pulled out her phone and pointed its camera at the pile of bodies. "I assume the pissbaby is satisfied now?"

Valentino scowled at her. "What the fuck did you call me, puta?"

Vox raised a hand in front of his face and stopped him before he got riled up again. "He will be, later."

The insinuation caused Valentino to stammer and he turned his head away with a blush. His wings quivered behind his back.

Velvette grimaced as she tapped a new post into her socials about Valentino's latest temper tantrum. "I didn't need to hear that. Just as long as he won't shoot another one of my damn employees, it doesn't matter how he's feelin'."

Before Valentino could provide a rebuttal, Velvette turned on her heel and walked back to the doors. "Speaking of, gotta head back and clean up those messes 'fore they get any ideas to trudge around their disaster pieces in public. Later, V and V."

Vox and Valentino reciprocated with a similar, "Later, V," as she pushed through the doors and left them alone once more. Vox could tell the conversation only helped to undo some of the progress he made with him. His hands felt tense in his grasp, and he practically heard the wind that exhaled from his flared nostrils. And he didn't have to ask to know that he had thoughts to take up arms and blow off steam in a more personal way with a certain arachnid.

Fortunately he had him to rely on. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze and reminded him, "So, how does dinner sound?"

Valentino took a long breath through his nose, then sighed. "Sounds perfecto, my love."

Vox gave a self-satisfied chortle, then pulled Valentino down to his level. He placed a peck on his cheek that made the moth's eyes widen, before he let him stand back up to full height. A soft smile came over the moth's features, then he wrapped his arms around Vox's slim bicep. The magnate led them out in a close embrace, which left the carnage behind them to be disposed of by the tower's internal systems.

Hey all! Just posted a new fic for y'all to take a gander at, made by request from an anon. It's got a pairing I don't see enough of, 2p Alastor/Alastor, and fair warning up front, it does contain some very intense subject matter. So read the tags, dead dove, don't eat, and all that! But if it isn't too much for y'all I hope you like it!

He had barely stripped off his boots behind the hotel before he heard a sound akin to the breakage of bone, and a dark shadow began to loom over him. When he tentatively raised his head, boots in hand, he met with the glowing, twin crimson dots in the pitch-black eyes of his love. His smile had been stitched at the corners by ghostly green thread, and his antlers extended far above and beyond his head. Aside from this fearsome change, he remained more or less the same Alastor he knew.

So he held no fear when he felt one of his giant hands scoop him into his palm, and he let his shoes fall to the ground. The two of them rose up until Alastor stood at least twenty stories tall, if Angel counted the hotel floors correctly. He must have served a tantalizing sight for the giant sinner as he rested on his hands and knees, because while his back was turned he felt something wet push roughly against his rear. It even reached between his legs to tease his dual sexes as it lifted him off the surface of Alastor's hand.

Angel moaned against Alastor's palm and shook from what he accurately surmised to be his tongue, before his lower half unceremoniously dropped back down as he drew away. Although he felt unsteady, the small spider rolled onto his back so he could get a better view of Alastor. He watched the tongue that enveloped him earlier taunt him as it dragged along the outside of Alastor's lips. A sight that left him breathless and brought a fire between his legs.

He wasn't bashful in how he played with himself in Alastor's palm. While his upper hands threaded eagerly through the fluff on his chest, his lower hands tended to both of his sexes. With one hand wrapped around his rigid member, he slowly stroked it up and down, and the other reached lower as it massaged his puffy lips. All underneath the intense gaze of the hungry giant. An observation more literal than Angel realized.

As he continued to pleasure himself, rivers of saliva poured from the corners of Alastor's lips. Soon, those yellowed fangs that made up his grin parted, and his enormous tongue snaked out from between them. But this time, Angel felt himself rise up to meet it. His heartrate increased and, before Alastor even tilted the hand he rested on, he knew what would happen next.

When he felt himself slide down his wrist, he didn't fight it as he got deposited within the giant's mouth. As soon as his body collided with that giant, wet muscle, saliva coated every inch of him. Although he tried to hold onto it, he found it impossible given its slippery, smooth surface. He only received the briefest view of his new surroundings as he looked around before the light of Hell disappeared behind Alastor's sharp-toothed grin. In this newly darkened space, he was left entirely at his mercy.

He couldn't deny the fearful flutter in his heart. Although he trusted Alastor, this was new even for him, and he stood in a very precarious position. Where one wrong move could spell a very unfortunate end for him. It honestly made it all the more exhilarating when he felt the tongue he sat on move with the smallest motions.

Those purposeful undulations rocked against Angel's lower body, aimed specifically for his genitalia. It quickly made him forget about his minor worries as he rolled his head back with a dull moan. With nothing to hold onto, he gave into these pleasurable waves as he sat back and rode them out as they came.

He rocked with the motions as if he rode a horse and grinded out his satisfaction. The small bumps that made up his tongue pressed into and spread his lips, before they dragged along the underside of his shaft. It gave a similar effect to the ribbed sex toys he had sampled on himself, whose ridges only served to heighten his pleasure. His breaths came shorter, and he pressed his lower hands against the flexing muscle as best he could as he kept himself upright.

One of his upper hands returned between his legs, and he pressed his throbbing erection against the giant's tongue as he bore his hips down on it. He bit back another groan that built in his throat and focused on the feeling that rose in his core. His hand wrapped around his length, and he furiously stroked it closer to the end he approached. Hot, humid, and completely drenched in saliva and sweat, exhaustion began to creep on him, but he pushed forward regardless.

His cock pulsed painfully with pent-up release, and his pussy similarly ached. Every exhale carried a moan lost in the cavern of Alastor's maw. But he knew he heard him as his throat rumbled an earthquake through his tiny form. It denoted the contented amusement he found in the writhing form of the man inside him. And that finally tipped Angel over the edge as he threw his head back with a powerful orgasm.

He sat flush against his tongue as he pumped rope after rope along it, down into the pit of his esophagus. Blind as he was, he couldn't see it, but that idea stuck with Angel as he humped the subsequent loads through his hands. Concurrently, his legs squeezed against the slimy tongue he sat on as he coated it with slick. Both minor deposits given Alastor's size, and Angel doubted he even felt or tasted any of it.

When Angel finally rested back, exhausted and content, he felt cool air wash over him and he was dropped back into his lover's hand. He gulped in lungfuls of air while he lay in a sticky pool of spittle. Through partially lidded eyes he saw Alastor peer down at him, somewhat concerned, which Angel dismissed with a weary thumbs-up. Reassured, he saw Alastor's tense grin relaxed, and he felt a large thumb brush against his defiled hair.

When Angel inevitably caught his breath, he blinked his eyes open and rolled over. He grabbed the base of Alastor's digits and pulled himself up just enough to peer through them. As he expected, they hadn't moved an inch from the hotel. That entire experience happened where anyone could see it and nobody was the wiser. Something that didn't sit quite right with the spider, as he felt exhibitionism was meant to draw attention.

He looked lower towards the ground, to the spot where he had disrobed mere moments ago. Then he looked back to Alastor's lower half, and found something that could fix that particular problem. A noticeable rise behind the fabric of his elongated dress pants, at least the size of a small mountain. Angel smiled and knew they were far from done.