firebird with a hoard of books

Duckies, Thanks to all of the Alastor in twilight ideas being hit back and forth and me adding my own ideas here and there, it has roused my already rabid bunnies. So here you all go from my brain. It was supposed to be a bonding exercise. Charlie had picked the books that everyone was supposed to go into; they would be in pairs, and the ywould have to work otgther to complete the books before they would be allowed to leave. Charlie had thought that it was a foolproof plan. She had even picked out Twilight for her dad and Alastor, only when she actiavted themagic something went wrong, and it wasn't her dad that got sucked into the Twilight books with Alastor, but rather his daughter- the one that no one knew about, the one that he had kept hidden from them- which had led them to try and pull Alastor and his daughter out. Only it didn't work like that, and the magic rebelled, wrapping tighter around Alastor and his daughter, pulling them deeper into the book. The book had already been altered, and they had no idea what they could do to fix it; all of the books after the first one were now blank. Alastor was supposed to be a teenager who had moved into town with his father, in this case? Lucifer was meant to be his father. Charlie had felt that it would be the best way for them to bond with each other if Alastor were powerless and had to rely on Lucifer. Husk had called her all manner of fool and idiot before telling her that it would never have worked, that her plan had been doomed to fail from the start. So now they had to fix things, and quickly, the longer they were in the books? The harder it would be to remove them from the books. Eventually, they had to give up because of the way the spell had been set up; any outside interference caused the magic to lash out at whoever was interfering. So all they could do was let the books play out, but since the rest of the books were blank? They had no idea how any of the books were going to play out. The first large change was that Alastor was not a teenager, but an adult with a job; he owned his own radio station and had a daughter, a nineteen-year-old daughter who had recently moved back from England. Those who were at the hotel wondered how much of it was true, how much was the book creating from information that none of them knew. The magic was designed to create scenarios for those who were sent into the books to bond, to help them get a better understanding of their partner. But this was Alastor's daughter, and it was very clear from the way that they were interacting with each other that they already had a very strong bond. So why couldn't they pull them out? The bond was already there; they didn't need to bond with one another. Charlie ignored the stab of envy as she witnessed the way that the pair of them joked with each other, the way that they wrstleed with each other, knowing each other's limits and when to stop. The way that Alastor would spend hours braiding his daughter's hair after school as she spoke about the events that happened. Edward's obsession with Bella and his stalker tendencies, which were going to get him into a lot of trouble, and how Bella was shallow and only seemed to interact with those whom she had a use for. How Bella treats her own father like dirt, acting as if he were unable to look after himself. Acting as if it were some great burden to cook for the pair of them. They watched as Alastor's daughter contemplated killing Bella and saving them all a lot of trouble. She calmly stated that Bella Swan? Was nothing but trouble, and being in Forks was only going to create nothing but trouble for them. Alastor fondly sighed and placed a kiss on his daughter's forehead before telling her to do her homework and sending her to bed. There were far too many unknowns; there was no telling how long they were going to be stuck in the books for, there was no telling how the events of the books were going to play out, given that the other books were now blank. All they could do was watch as the events unfolded.

The worst example in my opinion was at the end of New Moon: when Charlie forbid Edward from entering his house and Bella from seeing any more- quite reasonable after all the sh!t they pulled throughout the book- so she threatened to move out and to which he gave in because he is terrified of losing his daughter again. Gentle reminder that Charlie had just returned from his friends funeral that day to find that his borderline suicidal daughter missing with only a note left behind. THEN she returns with the jack@ss who had abandoned her in the woods and her several month long breakdown in the first place. And this is THE SECOND TIME she had left suddenly without explanation because of that same boyfriend, and she ended up in hospital because of an 'accident.'

A little prompt fill from my last post for Baelon + one of the AUs. We'll call this the B-Track for Veteran AU, aka "what if Jon were rescued shortly after his kidnapping."

x~x~x

“The king must be informed,” Ser Dawain murmured, his shield lifted high above Baelon as they trotted away from the docks.

The likelihood that any Volantenes had survived Vhagar’s belch of flame to launch any arrows toward them was vanishingly small. The ship had been reduced to burning rubble, and Vhagar had taken a chunk of Gulltown’s docks with it.

Baelon’s arms tightened around Jon, who had tucked his little head into the crook of his neck. His cries were more whimpers, strangled to near silence, and his blood boiled at the thought of what treatment his grandson must have endured to fear crying even now. He kissed the crown of his head, inhaling the scent of the ash that had fallen on it to turn his dark hair grey and dull.

“Rhaenys can bear a message to him. First, I must find my son.” Jon wriggled in his arms, whimpers becoming keening hiccups. “I know, little dragon, I know. You shall see your kepa soon.”

In a way, they almost could now. The sky itself was almost orange despite it being midday, the smoke from Daemon’s grief-driven rampage through the Serpent’s Spine turning the sun red as the Blood Wyrm he rode. The darker the sky, the darker his spirit.

It was a bloodthirst Baelon knew too well. Just as he had known that a mountain of corpses could not slake it. And yet it had stopped neither of them. The gods took Alyssa from me, but they were beyond my reach. The Myrish exiles who had slain Aemon, however—none had left Tarth alive.

Then there was Lady Rhea. It was Baelon who had intercepted her traveling party to fly her to Runestone. She had spoken not a word to him, nor shed a single tear in his presence. He had left her to her silence, sensing in the straight curve of her spine the brittleness of glass.

Neither knew that their son still drew breath.

He chose Runestone first. It was Rhea who had had her son ripped from her arms, and Rhea who had been the one to spy her son’s half-burnt shoe upon the charred remains of a babe.

She did not meet him in the yard, which did not surprise Baelon, but the sight of home seemed to have unleashed Jon’s cries at last. They split the air as he sobbed for his kepa and his mama, and when Rhea burst out of the doors to the inner keep, her eyes were wild and her chest heaving, gaze fixed upon Jon as she mouthed his name.

The moment she took Jon into her arms, the glass shattered, the force of it seeming to bow her in twain. Baelon extended his elbow, and she grasped it like a woman drowning, her sobs mingling with her son's as he led them both back into the keep.

Servants and maids fluttered about, converging upon the solar with everything that the little babe might need—water for a warm bath, fresh clothing, his favorite foods.

Rhea collapsed onto the couch, still gripping Jon to her chest. “I do not understand.”

I like the idea of the hotel somehow managing to get a shoddy, one-way connection to Al. He starts getting texts from unknown numbers and bizarrely short letters with no return address.

"We miss you."

"We're trying."

"Niffty says hi."

"Fuck you."

Aww, I like that idea! The Hazbins realise they can't get him out (not yet at least) and see his declining mental state during New Moon, Princess Charlie stresses about how she wishes they could just talk to him and let him know he's not alone.

Then Lucifer gets an idea! A good idea! It's a miracle!

He uses the book's own magic to create a communication that operates on It's own internal logic! It's not perfect as the book itself still seems to be fighting them- erasing their names when they tried to write them- but they have an in.

They then get to read a mentally exhausted Alastor and Officer Dad's reaction to the first mysterious letter; an envelope with Alastor Swan written on the front without an address. Inside is one of Charlie's typical crayon drawings, Sinner!Alastor and the other Misfits (also Lucifer, Frank, Keekee and Fat Nuggets) holding hands beneath a rainbow with WE MISS YOU scribbled on the top. Alastor laughs a little- no, he is not tearing up- as he tells his confused dad that they were 'his old classmates' and how 'Other Charlie has a unique art style.'

Charlie, relieved at hearing his son's first real laugh in months, decides to brush off the peculiarity of the letter and instead suggests that maybe they could organise a visit- over there in Phoenix or here in Forks- during the holidays. Alastor gives a non-committing 'Would be nice' in response as he plans where to keep the letter safe and preserved.

New letters popping up bi-weekly, sometimes in random places like his school locker, each clearly from a different person in the Hotel.

He was surprised to get a letter from Vaggi of all people, awkward but to the point with her practical blocky letters, 'The Hotel isn't the same without you. I'm sorry I never realised all that you did until you were gone. If you choose to return, I promise to take heed of your advise in the future.' That letter includes a crayon doodle of Vaggi, Charlie and himself, standing proudly together, clearly Charlie's work.

He easily recognised Niffty's erractic scribbles accompanied by one of her 'an-ni-meh' styled drawings of him, herself and... a vampire with sparkles? Is that supposed to be Ed- ahem, Cullen? She wrote, 'I haven't cleaned up your food as promised! Maybe you can share it with the sparkly bad boy when you come home?'

He also recognised Husk's penmenship, sloppy with a flourish. It was a short, gruff, 'We are trying. Take care of yourself until then, Boss.' Beneath it was another's handwriting, he didn't recognise it, but later realised must be Angel's, 'Hey, Smiles, when you come back how about you join us on the next Night On The Town? We could have a dance contest! ;)' Huh.

There was another letter. He was certain who sent it when the stationary consisted of rubber ducks. He just sat at the kitchen table, glaring at it, pondering whether or not he should even bother.

Charlie didn't say anything. He just watched with his eyebrows raised.

Finally, Alastor sighed, cursing his curiosity as he opened the envelope.

'I didn't mean fo- It wasn't supp- Fuck you.'

Alastor couldn't help himself, he laughed. Charlie read it over his shoulder and made an outraged noise. He told him 'Lu' was just a jackass and not to mind him.

Hey, so... Bella getting her weird self-actualized eternal beauty and immortality before she even canonically knew that's what she wanted is already wild, but it means her love (infatuation) fixation wouldn't occur with Edward.

Hear me out.

Girl has not even seen him yet and all it takes is one of her followers mentioning there's a celestial Angel King in this realm before she gets it in her head to tie "immortal beauty" to "Ageless King".

She arranges to be in the area when it comes out that Lucifer (Really the Hazbin Hotel Crew in total) is looking for her.

And she, in all of her absolute delusion, thinks she deserves to be the Queen of Hell. While totally over-analyzing his every move and expression in her inner monologue. Absurdly incorrect in her overwrought narrative BTW.

Lucifer... Is reasonably disturbed by all of her thoughts when he finds this out.

Lucifer: (Flailing) "Eww! No! What?! No! You're what?! 16?! Eww! No! Are you nuts?!"

Bella 'No damn sense, dated her 104-year-old vampire stalker in canon' Swan: "You're from before time, why should that matter?"

Lucifer: (To Charlie) "After we get the Bellhop out of there, I am obliterating those books."

LOL she would!

And Lucifer is forced to face the awkwardness he hoped to put Alastor through. The consequences of his own actions!

Lucifer:(to Alastor) Never leave me again! I am so sorry for inflicting that horrible book and those teen things on you!

Alastor: My, you actually apologised to me? Was young Bella that horrible?

Alastor sighs, unable to truly enjoy this bout as he watches his opponent reduced to a child impotently trying to wallop him, and simply responds that he didn't take anything from her. She was the one to throw it all away.

A long question for the High Council to consider: what if Alastor, a traumatised mixed-race man (who may also be unknowingly genderqueer) who lived his entire life in the Jim Crow era of New Orleans before dying and living a DECADE in HELL, starts to struggle with living in a semi-fantastical tween trilogy?

Alastor thrives in chaos and adversity but is also shown to be isolated and lonely (though he’d deny it), even his supposed friends and allies seem to forget that he is not immortal and invincible. So how would living in a world as a self-insert protagonist where much of the cast adores and worries for you? More than the people you are trying to escape back to?

The Proposal: Alastor wakes up on the way to Forks as a teenage version of his human self in modern-ish times. He remembers Lucifer's shit-eating grin as he activated the new experimental Role Play books and how you need to 'complete the story' to escape. He takes a deep breath, resolves to play along as he gets his bearings and have his revenge after he escapes.

Alastor knows nothing about the story he is in beyond the fact that Niffty seems to be a fan of it.

The start of the book is… surprisingly pleasant. The weather may be dull but after nothing but blood red skies, acid rain and his little pocket dimension bayou, the rainfall is heavenly. His father- because apparently this gruff but gentle man in a police uniform will be playing his dad until the end of the story- seems concerned about the way he just stands there dazed, taking in the rain. He hurriedly brings out a fluffy towel and insists on Alastor taking a hot bath, a cup of cocoa waiting for him afterward… Alastor feels his throat closing and wonders if you can really catch colds in enchanted story books.

‘Cops are assholes, but Charlie Swan is… okay,’ Alastor thinks as lays in ‘his’ bed, the freshly cleaned sheets and so soft pillows lulling him into the first sleep he’s had since… he couldn’t even remember. It was before Vox and his stupid fake deal in the bar, of that he’s certain.

His final thought before falling asleep was a wistful, ‘I wish maman could have married him for real.’

When I awoke the next morning, and saw the familiar yet unfamiliar room, dread dripped down my spine. It wasn’t dream. That useless deadbeat of a King really had trapped me in Niffty's bookand now I had to get ready for, ugh… school. I checked the bedside clock; 6:15am. Plenty of time to prepare. I had found a camping kit in our- pardon me, in Officer Swan’s garden shed, borrowed a small folding knife and hid it in the secret pocket I’d sewn into my coat pocket. Hopefully, I won’t need to use it. I’d rather not get into a fight with teenagers, even if they are mere magic constructs bought into existence through literature, but if it’s anything like the schools I remembered, I’ll be needing it eventually.   "It's just one book," I reminded my reflection, fingers forcing the corners of my mouth into a grin, "You dealt with worse humiliations. You just need to endure until then. Like always."

It isn't just one book and when Alastor mentally prepares himself for going back to reality, reluctantly getting... attached to not just Dad Charlie but also Alice, Emmett, Jessica, Jacob and even Edward himself to an extent. It's stupid, he knows, as they aren't real.

Do not forget that Alastor. You are alone here.

He is having fun, though, and it can't hurt to just enjoy himself before returning to the harsh reality?

And yet the story continues... even after what should have been the climax of the story.

He has been living as Alastor Swan for six months now and he's just finished the first book out of four. However, he has no way knowing this.

Alastor starts to panic. Why is he still here? Had he broken the story to the point it can no longer end? Or had Lucifer planned this all along and given him a false hope? What if he had never intended to let him out?

New Moon starts. The Birthday Party goes wrong. Edward leaves Alastor and takes the rest of the Cullens with him. Alastor falls into self-destructive levels of desperation, not out of a broken heart like Bella but because without the Cullens, how is he supposed to complete the story?

Will he be trapped in this false reality forever?

In a fit of mania, Alastor starts deliberately throwing himself into danger, thinking that if the Protagonist of the story dies surely the story will end.

And the Hazbins get to read Alastor's deteriorating thought process the entire time.

Ooh yes the horror of thinking you are trapped, the realisation the others have that Alastor doesn't know its a series - them reading his thoughts and feelings and seeing how he deals with everything - I especially think them seeing he DOES have emotions and how he's just permanently on hypervigilance and hyperindependence mode and him remembering stuff from his life is amazing and then they realise he's have a mental breakdown, not because the Cullens left but because he thinks he's stuck - and what would happen, if he died in the story?

Also, possibly stuff with his gender/sexuality depending on how that's going down, and stuff liek him musing on Vox's stalking, and the hotel group are horrified!

They should be.

But I think it's the opposite it's alot harder to think and execute a complicated plan while your not in your right mind.

Luts go over what all is wrong with Alastor in episode 4. He is wounded, he's drinking, he's smoking, he got rage baited twice(which he is litterly seeing red for Lu and pulling his hair for Rosie yeah that's not normally when someone is thinking there best.) then he got beaten up by the Vees (that deer cry when Vox riped out his sticked ow) and after all that Vox drugs him.

So his ability to keep it together for most of a musical number is impressive. I think most people after all that would be bitey and more incoherent. Meanwhile Alastor is burning the ever loveing shit out of Vox.

And I do think he is loseing his perfectly maintained composer is slipping when he goes grimlin mode. Like the fact it took him that long for the mask to slip is CRAZY.

And I also think it says alot about him that this is his stress reponce. Freeze and fawn reponce he's never hurd of them. He feels threatened he will just bite your face off. This is also just like actually blinding rage. He has had the longest day of his life.

AU where Husk owns Alastor’s soul and Alastor became a card dealer in his casino (until he’s roped into helping out at the hotel).

In modern interpretations, blue roses can symbolize ultimate desire and lust.

Originally, the idea was that the King of Lust Asmodeus meets Alastor, a certified Ace in the Hole, and the two of them end up actually liking each other. Later on, they become a couple and it’s later revealed to the surprise of everyone and to the despair of Vox and Lucifer. (Lucifer developed a crush on Alastor through repeated arguments, competitiveness, banter, and Alastor’s cooking.)

I then realized something even better: What if Asmodeus meets Alastor from Little Rose Bud AU while he’s still pregnant and becomes Etienne’s stepparent?

In this AU, Asmodeus and Fizzarolli are in a business partner/friends-with-benefits relationship. (I’m not confident in making a throuple as good as @kitsunesongs check their fics out by the way, it’s amazing!)

Okay so Asmodeus is in Pentagram City to investigate the distribution of love potions that have invaded his Ring and the source is supposedly from Pride. He decided to go in disguise because Lucifer isn’t picking up at all. (The fallen angel is in depression over his failed marriage and denial over sleeping with a Sinner, no matter how attractive they are)

Roo had just left Alastor and won’t be back for months because he refused to abort his baby.

Ozzie follows up a lead in Cannibal Town where the potions may have been used in vore and meets Alastor.

Ozzie is surprised to find a grown Sinner with no Lust in his presence. Like absolute 0% Lust. In his experience, other than children, everyone had some lust in them even angels(Adam).

As the Sin of Lust, he can sense the other’s fertility and was shocked the other wasn’t sterile like all Sinners. He was even more shocked when he sensed Alastor was with child.

When questioned, Alastor became suspicious and tried to act ignorant of what Ozzie was talking about. When the topic of the baby came up, Alastor was very close to attacking the other.

Ozzie realized no Sinner would trust a stranger with this and revealed himself.

Contrary to what he expected, Alastor became even more guarded but regained his composure.

Seeing this Asmodeus offered a deal, he would not do anything to Alastor and his child and any information he learns will be kept strictly confidential. In exchange, Alastor would sate his curiosity on how a Sinner became pregnant.

With little choice against a Sin, Alastor tentatively agreed with a few amendments.

Asmodeus was shocked that until a few months ago Alastor was a virgin in Hell for around a century. Even more so that an Imp knocked him up.

Asmodeus theorized that either that Imp had a not so normal heritage like they were born from an Ars Goetia line or that Imp wasn’t an Imp but a higher ranked demon in disguise.

Alastor didn’t care about who Lou was but was concerned how that will affect the baby.

With Alastor’s permission, Asmodeus checked and came to the same conclusion as Roo. The baby is taking too much from Alastor and the risk of death is high.

Alastor asked if consuming a pureblood Ars Goetia or their blood will help.

Asmodeus is stunned but ultimately could not give an answer as this situation has never happened before.

To prevent any future incident, Asmodeus offered his help with the pregnancy.

Alastor was once again guarded and suspicious. To ease the other, Asmodeus stated that in all 10,000 years of Hell this situation never happened and he wanted to sate his curiosity. Plus a pregnancy is kind of under his jurisdiction and what kind of Sin would he be if he failed to uphold his responsibilities in insuring the population stay up.

After much deliberation, Alastor agreed but only if there was a deal between them.

(The contract states that Asmodeus must protect and aid in the survivability of Alastor and his child in exchange for having his curiosity about the situation settled.

Neither party can use the other for any nefarious purpose, personal or otherwise.

All information, personal or medical, is confidential unless stated otherwise.

In the event Asmodeus fails and Alastor dies while the baby survives, he must send the baby straight to the Cannibal Overlord Rosie unharmed and he can’t tell anyone about them.

In the event the baby dies, again, Asmodeus can’t tell anyone about them and Alastor will be sent straight to his home unharmed.

In the event both Alastor and the baby survive, Asmodeus will be given 10 No Questions Asked Favours provided no innocents will be harmed and Alastor won’t need to have sex with anyone.)

And so, Asmodeus took care and observed Alastor’s pregnancy for the next 7-8 months.

During that time, Asmodeus grew increasingly attentive and Alastor became more receptive of his care.

Asmodeus started falling for Alastor but kept his feelings hidden away knowing Alastor didn’t feel the same. Alastor liked him but didn’t have feelings for him(yet).

During the duration of the pregnancy, Asmodeus had been supplementing the energy the fetus needed to ease the burden on Alastor. Said fetus gladly consumed it and converted it to its own energy.

Despite the repeated feedings, Alastor still almost died during childbirth but managed to pull through thanks to Asmodeus feeding energy throughout the process.

It was almost losing Alastor that Asmodeus accepted his own feelings and made the decision to properly court Alastor.

Also, Amadeus would see the baby's eyes and cheek marks he's like 'Whelp, now I know who the baby daddy is.'

On the other hand, PAY THE CHILD SUPPORT, KING DEADBEAT!! It's not about the money, Ozzie has that covered, it's about responsibility.

Come to think of it, I wonder if this would lead to Asmodeus suddenly giving a crap about Sinners and the Exterminations? He was already protective of Fizzie, but imagine realising your lover (and step-baby) was at risk of GENOCIDE once a year? And that not only could you have helped but didn't for centuries, but it was your brother(?) is the one who allows it to happen.

Ozzie wouldn’t directly confront Lucifer. He’d feel him out first and get both disappointed and relieved that Lucifer’s attitude on Sinners hasn’t change. He does get briefly angry when he hears him disparage that one Sinner he slept with, knowing it’s Alastor.

Clearly, he can’t expose a vulnerable Alastor and Etienne to this guy especially when he’s not over his ex-wife!

Ozzie did offer to tell Alastor who Etienne’s real father was, only for Alastor to dismiss it as unnecessary as he considered Ozzie as more of a father to Etienne than a faceless stranger.

Ozzie is so protective of them. Etienne is just the cutest wittle baby he’s ever seen with her little deer ears and big baby eyes!

Alastor is also the most attractive person he’s ever met and he’s met people literally divine made.

It’s not just his looks but his entirety. Alastor is unpredictable and full of contradictions. He’s a serial killer but one with a code of honour only killing the truly bad. He can cook delicious meals but prefers a rotting deer carcass. He’s a dealmaker but prefer to make sure his deals are more than fair to the other party.

And also the way Alastor looks at his child is nothing short of true beauty. The pure love a parent has for their child. When Alastor loves he becomes the most beautiful being in anyone’s eyes.

Ozzie is the second person Alastor has ever been attracted to and it wasn’t even about lust but because he’s a staunch supporter of consent. The fact that he’ll destroy anyone who tries otherwise is just the sexiest thing to Alastor.

Alastor felt safe, comfortable, and trusted him, and Ozzie felt more than just Lust incarnate. He felt like a person who is seen beyond a label.

Regarding Fizzarolli, I’m unsure how to work it. My preference for couples in stories is for them to be monogamous. Having Ozzie fall for Fizz later just feels like cheating in a sense. Alastor is a possessive bastard, he wouldn’t share his hubby.

I could do what @kitsunesongs did and have Ozzie and Fizz already be a couple when Alastor comes into the picture and they fall for him but I think I prefer just Alastor x Ozzie with Fizz as a close friend.

Lucifer: *fiddling with a rubber duck and off-handedly insults Alastor*

Ozzie: *his fire flares white hot for a second before he quickly calms himself again*

Lucifer: *jumps back slightly, blowing the burning duck out* What was tha-

Ozzie: *with a forced smile, an eye twitching* Nothing! Nothing! So how is my favourite niece doing?

"I could do what @kitsunesongs did and have Ozzie and Fizz already be a couple when Alastor comes into the picture and they fall for him but I think I prefer just Alastor x Ozzie with Fizz as a close friend."

I think that would depend on how Imps age compared to humans and how long Ozzie and Fizzie had canonically been together? If they were together for at least seven years, then they could theoretically do a Expired!Lucilith.

I mean, it's fanfiction we can do whatever the heck we want! I just get finicky about those details and "rules" (probably my autism) and trying to work those into the stories.

So in this AU, Hazbin Hotel starts a little earlier than Helluva Boss. Alastor and Ozzie met before Fizz started working for Mammon and presumably before he met Ozzie in canon.

In this AU, Fizz and Ozzie are just close friends and are a fake secret couple for two reasons. Fizz gets some protection from Mammon and people don’t find Ozzie’s actual marriage to Alastor.

Fuck? Marry? Nahhh 🍰🔪🩸

Happy Ace Visibility Day! 🖤🩶🤍💜

Sorry Mr. King of Hell, Alastor hails from the land of stubborn, violent psychopaths 😔

(what it do my fellow americans)

Overworked/“I Quit” - Part 2-

——————————————————

(TW: Husk swears a lot)

The kitchen settled into something almost… calm.

Almost.

Niffty sat cheerfully on the counter, kicking her feet before snatching her plated portion from the Radio Demon’s claws and rushing toward the table.

“This is AMAZING!” she chirped. “Did you poison it?!”

“Not today, my dear,” Alastor replied pleasantly, setting a steaming bowl down both for himself and for Husk.

“Why NOT?!”

From the doorway, Husk analyzed the tension in Alastor’s frame. It seems that having a few minutes to cool off put Alastor in a better mood. Or maybe it was just having Niffty around. She was always his favorite.

Still, the Radio Demon was definitely stiff as he pulled out Niffty’s chair, his focus completely on her as she complained about the meal and its tragic lack of toxins.

“Awwww, not even a little arsenic?”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Husk didn’t sit right away—his attention had turned to his master’s errant shadow. The wicked thing was often easier to read than its master. The problem was, focusing on the specter too much was an easy way to lose track of the real predator in the room. A lapse in judgment Husk would surely pay for.

“Alastor! Kitty needs you to help him with his chair too!”

Case in point. Niffty. Predator.

Husk immediately recoiled. “No, Niff! Why?!”

He was answered by her high-pitched demented giggles

It was too late—the trap was set—the prize? His dignity. Alastor smelled blood in the water, and the man was never one to let shit go if it meant pissing off the grumpy old cat.

Setting the finished pan of cornbread on the table the Overlord quickly zeroed-in on his reluctant thrall.

“But of course! Here, Husker. Sit. Eat.”

It took every ounce of self-control Husk had to NOT grouse as Alastor mockingly treated him like a delicate debutant, going as far as to kiss the back of Husk’s hand before roughly spinning him into his seat.

Niffty cooed and applauded.

Hat removed and a napkin gentility placed in lap.

Husk’s pride would be wounded if it hadn’t already died years ago.

Avoiding the temptation to grumble—Husk instead focused on the bowl in front of him, shoving a spoonful into his mouth in-favor of ignoring Mr.Fuck-Ass-Bob.

A reaction—that was what Alastor was after.

Just stay calm

He must have successfully succeeded in being boring—judging by the offended little huff Alastor gave him before retreating to his own seat.

Another spoonful- and holy shit.

Husk’s nose crinkled irritably. His eyes felt teary, and he felt an uncomfortable lump swelling in his throat. Had he really been homesick for—

No, dammit.

It had to be poison like Niffty suggested… or the food was just spicy. Husk was not about to get emotional over a goddamned bowl of beans.

A shadow swirled near his hand, conjuring a cold bottle of beer.

Not even pausing to thank the one who had magicked it up for him, Husk immediately cracked it open and took a swig.

Perfect.

Dammit.

He was not going to start purring either.

A chuckle, Husk glanced up to find Alastor watching. Vermilion eyes watching him closely through thick doe lashes. It was a scam—a scam that Husk once fell for hook, line, and sinker. Alastor was not an innocent fawn. He was not a kid that ‘just got lucky’. He was—

“Are you a happy kitty, Husker?”

An asshole. The human embodiment of an inflamed hemorrhoid. One that Husk, unfortunately, could never be rid of.

“That’s not my name—now hurry up and pass the bread.”

Husk continued to eat in silence, ignoring how Alastor’s smirk grew as the old gambler helped himself to a large slice of cornbread.

Smug bastard- he knew the food was good. But if he wanted praise? Tough luck.

Thankfully Alastor’s attentions turned to Niffty. Who was much more enthusiastic with her compliments.

Husk took the opportunity to savor the moment. Allowing himself to be warmed by the rustic meal and idle chatter of the souls who knew him best.

“Is Gregory still giving you trouble, my dear?”

“No, sir—I—”

Alastor glanced up from his meal, ears flicking back as he addressed the maid. “Don’t call me that. You know my name. Please use it.”

“Yes, sir!”

Husk tried to shoot a look Alastor’s way, as if to say, “See? I told you so.”

“What can you expect, Boss? They’ve been treating her like the help.”

A static-charged sigh. “Then I have been negligent.”

Focus shifted away from Husk- “Niffy darling, please, continue.”

“Greg is fine. He’s not happy about the new carpet shampoo, though.”

“Oh? And what is his complaint?”

“He says he is allergic— it’s making him all splotchy.”

“Hmmm—well, I’ll see what I can do. Perhaps I can find the manufacturer for the product we used before?”

“No! He doesn’t deserve the extra effort. Besides, I have him under control. Brittney is the bad one.”

“Ah—” Alastor took a dainty bite of his meal before continuing. “To be honest, I am not surprised. I have never met a Brittney who wasn’t—as they say—a ‘total bitch.’ She’s on the twelfth floor yes?”

The conversation dragged on for a few more minutes, and the old gambler only got more damn confused. Tending bar wasn’t just for show—Alastor had him there to spot trouble before it even thought about starting.

And somehow, he didn’t recognize a single one of these names.

Was he slipping that much? The hotel had been busy. That tracked. Real reassuring.

Maybe it was the exhaustion—it took him longer than he’d ever admit for it to finally click. They weren’t talking about people.

No. Of course not.

They were gossiping about the stains.

Husk scrubbed a hand down his face, already feeling the headache settling in. Because naturally that’s what this was. And fuck if Niffty didn’t have a name for every last one—listing them off like it was a damn roll call.

Like Alastor wouldn’t already know.

Like he didn’t know “-everything that goes on in his hotel.”

Sure. Great. Fantastic. Nothing weird about that at all.

It also took him far too long to notice Niffty’s hands—wrapped in neat, clean bandages. Delicate work on tiny fingers. Free from chemicals or stains.

When did they have time to do that? Surely not when she rushed to the kitchen ahead of him? Did the Radio Demon drop everything to play nurse and tend to her?

Alastor’s smile twitched under Husk’s scrutiny. Barely noticeable.

Husk let out a short, disbelieving snort. “You work fast.”

That earned a small, amused hum—but there was no malice behind it.

For a minute, the only sounds were Niffty’s delighted little eating noises and the soft clink of utensils. Cozy. Domestic. One could almost argue that they made a nice little family.

If that person was fucking insane.

Another swig of cold beer.

Definitely not a thought that he would ever entertain again.

Refocusing on their little group, omething itched at the back of Husk’s skull as he got up for a second serving. Something about this cozy little picture that wasn’t quite right. He glanced over—and there it was. Alastor’s bowl, barely touched. Of course. Because why would anything be simple when it could be… whatever the hell this was?

Great. Fantastic. Love that for them.

The warm, damn good meal sitting in Husk’s gut suddenly felt heavier. Not in a guilt way—he wasn’t that sentimental—but in a you’ve been played kind of way. Like the food knew something he didn’t, and was judging him for it.

Fucking brat. With his fucking martyr complex.

Make a whole spread, play the perfect host, and then just…Sit there grinning while everyone else dug in? Yeah, that tracked. Real on-brand.

Husk exhaled slow through his nose, once again dragging a hand down his face. Because of course this was a thing. Of course Alastor couldn’t just be fine—he had to perform fine.

Big difference.

It was anoying as hell.

Not to mention completely unnecessary. None of this was new. They weren’t the princess and her holier-than-thou girlfriend. Husk and Niffty had been around long enough to know exactly what kind of “cuisine” Alastor’s diet required.. And as long as Husk didn’t know the poor sap on the menu?

He couldn’t be bothered to care.

Sitting back in his seat Husk immediately took another bite. Chewing like the meal owed him money, and very pointedly didn’t look at the barely touched plate across from him.

Alastor was always fucking doing this. Ignoring his problems until it became their problems. But maybe- if Husk didn’t allow himself to THINK about it, he could get through tonight without opening his damn mouth.

“You’re running us into the ground,” Husk said flatly.

Well-So much for that idea.

Niffty froze mid-bite.

Alastor didn’t. Instead he picked his spoon back up so he could play-act at eating. Giving a air of nonchalant energy that would piss of even the sweetest heavenly virtue

“I was under the impression we’d already addressed that.”

“We didn’t,” Husk shot back. “You deflected.”

“I’ve corrected the issue.”

“Band-Aids and bunny kisses don’t mean shit. You’re patching it, not fixing it.”

That made Alastor pause.

Slowly, he set his spoon down.

The air shifted—not hostile, not explosive—just… tighter. A cold draft that didn’t belong in the warm alcove of their kitchen.

“My dear Husker,” he said, voice smooth but quieter now, “if you have a more efficient method of managing a sudden influx of sinners, hostile inter-realm takeovers, and blasted celestial interference, I would be delighted to hear it. So far, I think I’ve done rather well with the cards I’ve been dealt.”

Fucking wordplay-

Husk leaned back in his chair, thoroughly unimpressed, the whole situation personally offended him. “Yeah, yeah—maybe you have,” he drawled, tipping his glass in a half-assed concession. “But I gotta ask… what the hell are we still doing here, boss?”

He rolled his wrist, sloshing his drink like he might find the answer at the bottom if he stared hard enough.

“After everything?” he went on, voice going rougher around the edges. “You’ve got us bustin’ our asses—hell, killing ourselves—for a kid that doesn’t give two shits about sinners like us—”

“Ah? And tell me what kind of sinner is that?”

“You know exactly ‘what kind’. Unrepentant losers like us that cling to our vices and fucking like it..”Husk gestured vaguely with his beer toward the trio, nearly spilling it in the process.

A flicker.

Gone almost as soon as it appeared.

Alastor’s smile held—but something behind it thinned.

“Now, Husker—you should know by now that my plans are none of your business. Besides, why are you upset? The princess likes you!”

“Bullshit. If she liked me- if she liked any of us-then we’d get a day off once in a while. Or I don’t know- a goddamn salary? We both know her daddy‘s got the dough.”

“She is absent minded- yes- but Charlotte is not intentionally harmful.”

“Alastor- she tied me to a set of train tracks.”

Niffty’s gaze darted between them, tension finally registering. “Are we fighting?” she whispered excitedly, pulling a knife from who-fucking-knows where.

Static popped.

“Eat.”

They both said it at the same time. She beamed and went right back to it. Knife disappearing under her skirts.

Husk leaned forward, eyes locked on Alastor now. “Boss—you’re stacking damage and pretending it’s nothing.”

The radio static stopped.

Alastor’s gaze lifted.

Sharp.

Dangerous.

“…Careful, Husker.”

There it was.

This—this was the Radio Demon.

Not the softened, almost domestic thing that let Niffty crawl all over him like a cat tower. Not the grinning performer spinning the princess through some jaunty, flashy, show tune like it was all one big joke.

No.

This was what Husk needed to remember.

Alastor wasn’t “charming”. He wasn’t quirky. He wasn’t safe.

Alastor was a murderer.

Alastor was a psychopath.

And Husk—

Husk would be a damn idiot to ever start thinking he was anything close to a friend.

The temperature dipped, and the room took on a green hue. Alastor straightened slightly, something ancient and predatory slipping into his posture without a hint of strain.

“You would do well,” he said through a curled sneer, “-not to forget the nature of our arrangement.”

Husk hissed in response—goddamned feline instincts.

“Yeah, boss—don’t worry. I haven’t.”

And that was the problem. Because in spite of it all, the ownership, the yanking him aroubd by the chain, the fact that he took JOY in riling Husk up and pissing him off… Dammit-Husk still cared.

The old cat had been around long enough to spot a bad habit from a mile off. Consequences. Limits. The kind of lessons that get carved into you whether you like it or not. He knew how to read people.

And Alastor? Christ. The guy was all pep and swagger—like the universe had never once smacked him upside the head and said no. No sense of when to quit, no instinct for self-preservation. Just that same smug grin, like he was always five steps ahead of a game no one else was even playing. Red bastard had to’ve died young—only explanation.

And still—after a century in Hell—he strutted around like he was untouchable. Invincible.

Drove Husk up the damn wall.

Half the time, he wanted to grab him by that stupid coat, haul him over his knee, and wear his tail out. Might be the only way the idiot ever learned something

(And no- he refused to think about what Angel would say at the idea. Not EVERYTHING could be improved with sex)

Alastor, believing his threat had been effective, started to tuck back into his meal. Crumbling his cornbread into the mix like a goddamn heathen.

Husk watched for a moment- “I also haven’t forgotten that you owning my soul won’t matter if you get your ass killed.”

The spoon froze halfway to the Overlord’s mouth. Eyes going wide and ears twitching- making the prick look like a startled fawn.

It wasn’t long before Alastor rewarded him with a scoff. “ I am sure you’re looking forward to that day.”

Husk exhaled through his nose, frustration bleeding into something heavier. Okay—fine, so Al’s chose to keep his walls up. As a former Overlord, Husk could respect that. But-

“You got hit didn’t you?” He asked, “Back in that shitty ass fight with Heaven.”

No answer.

“- And you’ve been running on fumes ever since.”

Alastor’s claws carved through the sturdy wood table like butter. Husk’s fur bristled at the SOUND the shadows made—whispers and screams woven with brass and death.

Even Niffty stopped chewing-glancing between her bad boys with a frown and furrowed brow.

Then, once again, the curtain dropped. And whatever abomination Alastor was—is—was stuffed back inside, leaving a simple sinner in a pinstripe suit.

When he spoke again, the static was a whisper.

Worn.

“I am… aware of my condition,” he said.

Not denial.

Not quite admission.

Just… truth, edged carefully.

Husk studied him. “…That thing,” he said, quieter now. “It ain’t healing, is it?”

A pause.

Then—

“No.”

Simple. Flat. Honest. More honest than Alastor ever was.

And wasn’t that terrifying?

Niffty’s eye widened with a gasp, her large eye looking teary and wet as she focused on Alastor.

Fuck—she’d better not start crying.

Alastor’s smile returned—gentler this time, directed at her.

“But I am still quite capable,” he said lightly. “As you can see.”

A faint flick of his fingers. A flash of green.

The bandages unraveled—her hands fully healed, the extra surge of his power giving her overworked body the boost it needed to finish repairing itself.

She gasped, wiggling in her seat.“They’re perfect again!!”

“Yes, dear.” A pointed glance in Husk’s direction. “I always take care of what is mine.”

Husk was left gaping.

Alastor acted like that little show of magic cost him nothing. Like pushing his own power through her chain didn’t choke his already depleted reserves.

“…Idiot,” Husk muttered.

“Oh—undoubtedly.”

Another quiet beat passed. Then Husk picked up his spoon again.

“…You’re gonna pace it,” he said. “We’re all gonna pace ourselves. And you are gonna talk to the princess about hiring staff. Real staff.”

Not a question.

Alastor arched a brow. “Oh? Am I?”

“Yeah,” Husk said. “You are.”

“Hmmm, it is a security risk. We certainly don’t need another spy—but… I will consider it.”

“Nope- not good enough.”

A faint grin. “Then you’ll simply have to keep nagging me.”

Husk snorted. “Don’t tempt me. Or I’ll troll Lucifer where you’re hiding the good coffee beans.”

“Ah— blackmail? Compromise it is, then.”

Niffty clapped her hands. “Yay! We’re a team!”

Husk rolled his eyes—of course she would take their conversation as positive… but he didn’t argue.

After that- the conversation dwindled down to comfortable silence. Midnight had long-since come and gone. Leaving the trio, sleepy, warm, and full.

Husk had finished three servings on his own, while Niffty had mostly snacked on cornbread.

Alastor had kept pace at first; savoring the meal for its flavor, not for its ability to provide him with sustenance.

But it wasn’t long before he slowed again

Husk noticed.

Of course he fucking did. Now that his brain had decided that he had someone to worry about. (Don’t get it wrong—just got plenty of worries. But unlike certain porn stars—Alastor was here. And that made the worry just a little more real.)

So he watched the way the spoon lingered too long between movements. The slight dip of the Radio Demon’s head. The pauses that stretched just a second too far—

—and finally, with drooping ears, the man slumped—and didn’t quite come back up.

It wasn’t dramatic.

No collapse. No warning.

Just… stillness.

A head of red hair tilted slightly forward. A dancer’s posture slackening by degrees. Long lashes curled against high cheekbones. The ever-present smile softened—not gone, but no longer sharp enough to cut.

And the quiet. No static, no sound effects—but not silence either. Just the whispered breathing of a sleeping man.

Husk’s grip tightened slightly around his spoon. For all of Alastor’s showmanship and bullshit, Husk didn’t know why he expected something more dramatic.

“…Huh.”

Niffty blinked.

Then leaned sideways, peering up at Alastor’s face.

“…Sir?”

No response.

She tilted her head further. Then blinked, mind sharpening as she remembered his correction from before.

“Alastor?”

Still nothing.

Husk exhaled through his nose, slow.

“Yeah,” he said, low. “He’s out.”

Niffty’s eye went wide.

“Ooooh,” she whispered, like she’d just discovered something fascinating. “So he can do that!”

“Apparently.”

Another swig.

She leaned in closer—then paused before pulling out a completely different knife than before.

“…Should we… poke him?”

Husk shot her a look.

She froze.

“Maybe gently? Gentle poking? He won’t bleed much.”

He raised an eyebrow, and that seemed to do the trick.

“…Right. No poking.”

Good.

Husk was in no mood to regenerate this week.

She slid off the chair instead, already reaching for empty bowls and a rag.

Didn’t take long.

It never did.

The quiet came back, settling over the kitchen in a way that felt… different now.

Certainly less tense with the overpowered brat now asleep.

Across the room, Niffty rushed to pack away the leftovers and scrub the pots and pans. Every so often, her gaze flicked back toward Alastor.

Like she was checking. Like she was afraid he would disappear on her—again.

Husk stayed where he was.

Didn’t really think about it.

Just… didn’t move.

His eyes drifted back to the overlord slumped in the chair.

Out cold.

Just like that.

After all the posturing. The deflecting. The arrogant prick pretending like he was still in control.

Figures.

Husk leaned back slightly, the chair creaking under his weight, tail giving a small, restless twitch.

Could leave.

Probably should.

The spell that kept his bottle of beer cold and full broke the minute the deer’s lights went out.

Husk gained nothing by staying here.

It was late.

He could go to bed.

Let Alastor deal with whatever came crawling out of the woodwork when word got around that an Overlord was zonked out in the kitchen.

Not his problem.

Wasn’t his job.

Husk’s gaze dropped—briefly—to the table.

To the faint grooves carved into the wood.

To the bowl that had barely been touched.

To the way one arm stayed just a little too close to his side, even now.

Yeah.

Not his fucking problem.

He huffed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Idiot,” he muttered.

Didn’t specify who.

Niffty moved in quick, efficient bursts—scrubbing, straightening, reorganizing things that didn’t need it. When she finally paused, she didn’t seem at all surprised to see Husk still sitting at the table.

Husk shifted in his seat.

“…Hey.”

She perked immediately. “Yes?!”

He jerked his chin toward the stove.

“Keep an eye on that.”

A beat.

Then—

“Ooooh! Right!”

She zipped over instantly, attention snapping to the oven like it had personally offended her.

Husk watched her for a second.

Then leaned back again, settling in.

Not comfortable.

Not relaxed.

Just… there.

Keeping watch.

Playing cards in hand.

Just in case.

The kitchen stayed quiet.

Warm.

Almost peaceful.

Husk’s eyes flicked once more to the slumped figure at the table.

“…Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “A real ‘picture of restraint.’”

No response. No smug quip. No smarmy-ass grin.

Figures.

Behind him, Niffty made a small, distressed noise.

Husk didn’t turn.

Didn’t need to.

He could smell it.

Burnt.

He sighed.

“Of-fucking-course.”

The second pan of cornbread…

Oh—Alastor was going to be LIVID when he woke up.

————————————————————————

I’m sorry for inflicting this on yall. This second half was never meant to see the light of day. But I had free will and no internet service today so I decided to be cringe.

Part 1 ⬇️

Don’t worry this isn’t a callout post or rant it’s actually a positive thing :)

I mostly wanted to talk about this because I like how the Hotel depicts different kinds of androgyny/gnc characters from the perspective of an androgynous Agender person. And DEFINITELY NOT because I just want to explain how I see two characters as being different kinds of fruity!

…So let’s talk about Alastor and Angel Dust first for no specific reason!

The first thing that came to mind when I was thinking about it was some cheesy comparisons: Alastor being like one of those art things where, depending where you focus your vision or where you stand, it can be one thing or the other (like that one duck or rabbit drawing). Meanwhile Angel Dust is more like a gender chameleon. Someone who is androgynous but not because of the lack of gender expression or being the in-between of both, but instead because he expresses both genders at the same time or in different moments.

Something I noticed is that both characters have also been "misgendered" either jokingly by fans or by outsiders that haven't seen/new to the show. But again, in different ways. Alastor is usually only mistaken as a Queer woman who is appearing butch or androgynous due to his looks (specifically face, hair, and casual poses), so even then there is a bit of the obvious "not really one or the other". Angel Dust on the other hand isn't usually mistaken as a woman because of his appearance but rather because of his outfits and how he portrays himself. Which I think is REALLY interesting because it shows how different gnc people can express themselves!

Angel Dust really does remind me of drag queens (obviously, since that was one of his inspirations according to Vivziepop). He is androgynous but his fashion isn't, he enjoys wearing very masc or very femme clothing, usually going to either extremes instead of being gender apathetic (unlike the next deer). Using gender expression as a art form fits with his profession (better informed people than I have already explored how him being a sex worker under Val could connect with a part of his gender expression) as well as his own likes. Plus, it kinda fits with his era of being from the 40s but hearing stories of the 20s while growing up. The 40s were fairly conservative and the beginning of the rise (again) of "Anything different than the norm should be attacked or hidden". But, at the same time it was also the birth of Drag which was about a more fun and exaggerative form of gender and sexuality. The binary of gender was becoming more strict but that led to the enjoyment of queer men expressing their sexuality in more feminine ways and queer women doing the same (I.E best type of people I like being around with, ✨ Butch Women ✨). So it makes sense that Angel would enjoy doing the same.

Now about Alastor (totally not a character I've talked about before), Alastor is the complete opposite to Angel as he seems the definition of Gender Apathetic. He's androgynous by default and only really expressions gender when it suits him or when it's helpful to him. He picks whatever he likes and cares very little for the rest (I.E. what I do too lol). This again, fits his era (specially the social scene he was most likely a part of) in a very interesting way. He also lived in an era of bigotry but he also lived through a rebellious era that was about ignoring that bigotry and mocking confirmity. And unlike the 40s gender expression was purposely less binary and androgyny was far more popular and "trendy" in the 20s. Even straight cis women wanted more tomboy-ish looks and young straight cis men wanted to be more attention grabbing (to mostly women) and rebellious (to their parent's views) and would also break gender conformity for it. So obviously, Queer people in the era (as well as other minority groups) very much used the opportunity to play around with how they expressed their gender. Alastor's gender apathy and more focus on doing whatever useful or fun for him made him fit very well the era's views and gave him freedom to do whatever he pleased in his free time.

...Obviously, I've thought about this for a while lol. Now onto other non-conforming characters I only have small thoughts about:

Lucifer: The dude appears to be very masculine presenting in most public situations but he's also comfortable enough in his sexuality and his gender(*cough* Not like Vox *cough*) that he's fine wearing cozy/fun things regardless if they're read as feminine to others (like his bathrobe or eye shadow makeup).

Valentino: Again, other people have touched on the topic better about how his job and internalized misogyny makes him believe he has to put on a more masculine appearance to be seen as an intimidating boss, and a more feminine one when he wants to appear more sexualized (and also when he's with Vox but their whole relationship is a topic for another day).

Charlie! : The character I like out of these three! She is again, a fun example of casual androgyny. She wears whatever she likes regardless of what the outfit is gendered as. But similar to her father and Angel Dust I don't think it's because of a disconnect or disinterest of their gender identity (didn't put it before because I didn't know where to put it, but I think Valentino could care less about being identified as a man outside of his job and professionalism. Angel I think does identify more with being a feminine gay man over being an androgynous person compared to him) and more based on them being confident in their gender identity and sexuality.

This has been my ted talk on: If you take a shot everytime I said gender you will be very drunk or dead :).

Relating to your post here, remember in the Pilot episode how Vaggi gives Angel Dust (and the audience) the lowdown on the Radio Demon’s deal and how dangerous he is only for Angel to scoff saying, "He looks like a strawberry pimp!" and then is gobsmacked by the brutal, effortless takedown of Sir Pentious.

How do you think Angel would initially react to this version of Alastor- who Vaggi describes as more of mythical monster than a sinner- with his more magical girlish style clothing and shadowy black cat?

I think Angel Dust would believe, at least a little bit, that Alastor is powerful enough to be an Overlord. He did say that politics aren't his thing, so he has no reason not to believe the paranoid, self-proclaimed bodyguard-girlfriend of Hell's Princess.

Angel would correctly deduce, from just a glance, that Alastor is either genderfluid or nonbinary and just goes by masculine pronouns. I also believe Angel is fully aware of anime and therefore the magical girl genre and the tropes connected to it. He'll probably make some Sailor Moon references and nicknames for Alastor. Probably would still proposition him since, in Hell, one's clothing in no way, shape, or form defines someone's gender.