Hells Greatest Hazbins

Peter didn’t answer right away, the Saint just offered Abel a soft, reassuring smile as they settled into the kitchen. He moved with easy familiarity, like he belonged there just as much as Abel did.

“I’ll take the vegetables,” he said gently.

He rolled up his sleeves without fuss, stepping over to the sink. The quiet hum of running water filled the space as he rinsed them off, his shoulders relaxed now, the earlier tension gone. He hummed under his breath—something light and absentminded, almost content.

Reaching for a knife, he didn’t even have to look to find where Abel kept it. He’d been here enough times. He started chopping, steady and practiced, giving Abel space to settle into the rhythm beside him. There was no rush. No pressure.

This was nice and comfortable. It felt right just cooking with Peter like this. As domestic as it was, it felt good to have Peter in his home, doing things couples do. This was something he thought he'd never have.

But being as unaware as he was, he simply thought he was apologizing for the situation. It was a shitty situation, after all.

He was thankful when Angel didn't push about him talking to Charlie. That would have only stressed him out more, not wanting to put more strain on Charlie. She had a lot of work ahead of her, and he would heal. He just needed time to recover. Time and a lack of technology for a while.

"Yea, he seems to go off on this ego trip..." he comments about Vox, "It has to be about him. Heh, Bambi and I started arguing when I was caught and the guy immediately jumped in saying it was about him. He's very fragile..." That was at least one funny memory before the situation turned into a nightmare.

"Yeah, well, Vox wants t' get in Alastor's pants so badly that it's fuckin' depressin'. Ain't surprised at all by that." Part of him was starting to wonder if there was maybe something going on between Alastor and Lucifer, but that was none of his damn business. The nickname was certainly an interesting choice though. He remembered hearing it before the Radio Demon had stormed off.

He had already started gathering what he could find out of the pantry and fridge before the blonde had even agreed to sharing food, looking over his shoulder at the much smaller man with a grin. "Italian, obviously." Not that it would be obvious to Lucifer. The King could barely remember their names (maybe the Bambi nickname was strictly because he couldn't remember Alastor), yet alone know anything about their cultures.

"Somethin' quick and easy. Like, mmm." Fingers tapping from one of his hands against his chin, before looking at what he had in front of him. "Chicken marsala." Okay maybe that wasn't quick and easy, it would definitely take longer than half the one night stands he had had, but it was a comfort food and it felt like they could both use that right now. "Might take a bit longa' then ah' thought so...might as well get comfy if yeh' plannin' t' stay."

Moving to sit down on a stool at the island, he watches as Angel pulls things from the fridge. Chicken Marsala. Nope. That didn't ring any bells for him. "Well, it has to be better than that pot of...whatever that bellhop makes," he jokes, unable to stop himself from throwing an insult at Alastor even when he's not here. Truthfully though, the gumbo Alastor made wasn't bad, Lucifer just couldn't stand to give the man a win anywhere. He felt like he'd take it and run far out of left field with it if he so much as gave Alastor an inch.

✘ - Alastor sighed and rolled his shoulders as Vox unexpectedly threw a bit of an excuse out and left the room. Probably to sulk while he got the food.

Looking down at himself, and the barely formed stomach, put his hand over himself. " Your father is absolutely ridiculous. Does he really expect me to be okay with so many cameras in my face..." Why did Vox think that was going to be the exception? A huge gathering focused on them only , that would be the worst, he hated the idea of so much attention. Always preferring to be an isolated, mysterious figure- a private man with private rituals.

It wouldn't be until sometime in the evening that Vox came to Alastor's room with some food he had the kitchen prepare. One of the meals he knew that Alastor enjoyed eating. With a careful knock on the door, he waited only a moment before coming in with a smile, pretending like everything was fine.

His expression softened just a fraction, something more personal slipping through.

“You’re not, idiot. Lay down, you’re going to tear your fucking stitches.”

After a moment, the jester continued. “They’re fine,” Fizz said, more serious now. “Moxxie’s fine. Kid too. Bit shaken, but alive. Mission went sideways, but not that sideways.” He leaned in slightly, pointing at Blitz’s chest.

“You, on the other hand, nearly bled out like an idiot.” A beat. “You scared the shit outta them.”

Fizz straightened a little, his voice softened just a notch.

He thought he was dead.

Blitz relaxed against the bed with a soft sigh, placing a hand over his chest where the bandages were. "...As long as they're ok then that's all the matters," he sighs, "..I'm surprised to see you here. Ozzie's not missing you?"

He looks back up at Alastor, nodding about the food. "Then I'll go slow. I'll get you something tomorrow then and see about what cuts of meat might be best for you. I can't exactly feed you human flesh..." Though, it would be quite satisfying to be rid of a few of his colleagues.

The mention of human flesh made him smile a little more. "You sure there's not someone you want gone? There would be nothing left." Alastor offered, tempting the man just a bit. He relaxes and listens to the human say he wasn't sure what to do with him. "People buy demons for entertainment. Some buy them for parties to show off like circus animal style, some buy demons to torture to death and others use demons for sex- which can also involve torture and death." Alastor explained to the human.

He blinks a moment, "Well, I-I don't have to bathe you. Unless you need help...The tub is definitely small so you might need help getting your back...Here, why don't I run one and we can get you a little cleaned up? It might help you feel better." He stands up and heads to the bathroom to start running the tub with warm water. He's careful not to fill it too high knowing the water could splash out of the tub.

BLOOD ON THE BREEZE - first encounters, sharp instincts, and that feeling of being watched

“You should’ve kept walking… no one sane wanders into my territory after dark.”

“Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, you wouldn’t still be breathing.”

“Your heartbeat—why is it doing that? Am I frightening you… or something else?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who followed the tracks.”

“You smell strange… familiar. What are you?”

“That’s close enough. I haven’t decided if you’re prey or problem yet.”

FANGS & FIRELIGHT - forced proximity, unlikely alliances, hunting partners who don’t trust each other

“Sit. If we’re going to survive until sunrise, we share the fire.”

“Don’t bare your teeth at me—save it for whatever’s stalking us from the treeline.”

“I don’t need your help. …Fine. Maybe I do.”

“You tracked me? Bold. Stupid, but bold.”

“If you turn on me, I’ll put you down. But until then… we fight together.”

“Stop growling. I’m not your enemy—not tonight.”

THE HUNT & THE HEAT - tension during the chase, breathless moments where instincts take over

“Don’t run. If you run, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“You keep staring at my teeth like you want me to bite you.”

“Shift back. I can’t understand you when you’re snarling.”

“Did you… track me by scent? That’s—oddly flattering.”

“If you’re going to pin me to the ground, at least tell me why.”

“You shouldn’t have followed me into the woods. I lose control out here.”

MOONSTRUCK CONFESSIONS - soft nights, quiet truths, unexpected vulnerability

“Your heartbeat calms me. I haven’t felt that in centuries.”

“I didn’t think I could trust anyone again… until you.”

“You’re warm. I forget what that feels like.”

“When you look at me, the hunger stops hurting.”

“You smell like winter—cold, steady, honest. It suits you.”

“Stay tonight. I don’t want to be alone with the moon again.”

BLOOD, BITE, & BODY HEAT - dangerously close, charged, intimate tension that blurs the line between threat and desire

“If you want me to stop, say it. Otherwise… don’t flinch when I lean in.”

“Your pulse is racing. Keep looking at me like that and I’ll lose every shred of restraint.”

“You don’t understand what you’re asking for. My bite isn’t gentle.”

“Hold still… let me taste you.”

“You’re trembling. That’s either bravery or foolishness.”

“Careful. If I mark you, every creature in these woods will know you’re mine.”

CLAWS IN THE DOORWAY - domestic chaos between supernatural rivals, roommates, or neighbors

“Did you just track mud—actual mud—through my house?”

“Don’t touch that. It’s wolfsbane. It won’t kill you but it’ll ruin my night.”

“You drank my blood bag again, didn’t you?”

“No howling inside. My neighbors complained.”

“Stop scratching the furniture—shift back if you need something to do with your hands.”

“You snore louder in wolf form than human form.”

NIGHT WARS & TRUCE TALKS - rival clans, uneasy truces, old grudges resurfacing

“I should hate you. I don’t. That’s the problem.”

“Your pack would tear me apart if they knew I was here.”

“Don’t mistake this alliance for affection. …Though I won’t deny the latter exists.”

“If we get caught together, we’re both dead.”

“You came alone? Either you’re brave, or you trust me far too much.”

“Call off your wolves or I walk away. And if I walk away… you won’t see me again.”

STAR-COLD BLOOD & WARM-BONED WOLVES - supernatural contrast, opposites-attract, warm vs. cold tension

“Your skin’s freezing. Come here—my coat’s big enough for both of us.”

“You run hot. It’s distracting.”

“You’re shivering. Drink from me.”

“You smell of pine and snow. It’s maddening.”

“Warmth is wasted on humans. Yet here you are, offering it freely.”

“Stop pretending you don’t like when I lean close.”

THE BITE THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING - accidental turning, forbidden bites, desperate moments

“I didn’t mean to bite you—I lost control.”

“Your blood… it tastes wrong. Different. Powerful.”

“You’re changing. I can hear it in your heartbeat.”

“Look at me. Breathe. I’m not leaving you through this.”

“If you survive the night, you’ll never be the same.”

“Let me help you through the first shift. I won’t let you break.”

Regrets

Angel Dust shrugs his shoulders in response. Truth is, he doesn't really know what kind of movies he likes. When was the last time he actually watched a movie?

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