#hazbin fluff

A low chuckle answered you from the shadows of a nearby alley, and every hair on your body stood at attention. The sound was wet and hungry, like someone gargling with anticipation.

"Well hello ... what do we have here?"

The creature that emerged from the darkness was your first real confirmation that something had gone catastrophically wrong with your entire existence. He—it?—stood on two legs like a person, but that's where the similarities ended. His skin was a mottled gray-green, his eyes glowed an unsettling red, and his smile revealed far too many teeth that were far too frickin' sharp. He wore what might have once been a suit, but it was stained and torn, hanging off his lean frame like he'd mugged a businessman in a back alley.

Which, judging by the vibes, he probably had.

"A fresh one," he continued, circling you like a shark who'd just discovered someone bleeding in the water. "You smell... clean." His tongue—unnaturally long and slimy—flicked out across his lips. "Delicious."

You scrambled backward, your back hitting a brick wall covered in posters advertising things with names like "SOULS! CHEAP!" and "Consensual Dismemberment - Now 50% Off!"

"I—I think there's been a mistake," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady and failing spectacularly. "I'm just... I'm a little lost, and if you could just point me toward—"

"The only place you're going," the demon interrupted, moving closer with each word, "is wherever I decide to take you. And I'm thinking somewhere... private."

His hand reached out toward your face, claws extended, and you squeezed your eyes shut, because if you were about to die, you didn't want to see it coming—

"HEY! Hey, hey, hey, ho oh no, nope, absolutely not!"

The voice that rang out was bright, almost musical, with a theatrical quality that carried across the alley. Your eyes snapped open to see a figure that could only be described as aggressively dapper practically materializing between you and the creepy ... thing.

He was shorter than the predator—actually, he was just short in general, probably only a few inches taller than five-feet. But what he lacked in height, he made up for in presence. He wore a white suit with red accents that screamed ringmaster, complete with a top hat perched at a jaunty angle on his blonde hair. His eyes were a striking yellow with red pupils, and he carried an apple-topped cane that he was currently pointing at the demon like a weapon.

"So, uh, here's the thing," the newcomer said, his voice cheerful but with an edge of something dangerous underneath. "You're gonna want to leave. Like, right now. Immediately. This second."

The predatory demon's expression shifted from hungry to irritated. "And who the fuck are you su—"

He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as he actually looked at the blonde man. Really looked at him. His face went from mottled gray-green to an impressive shade of pale.

"Oh. Oh shit. I didn't—I wasn't—she was just—I was gonna—"

"Leave her alone?" the blonde man finished, tilting his head. "Yeah, I noticed. So here's what's going to happen. You're going to apologize to the lady, and then you're going to leave and never bother her again. Sound good? Great!"

His smile was wide and didn't quite reach his eyes.

The demon didn't need to be told twice. He practically tripped over himself backing away, stammering apologies that tumbled over each other in his haste to flee.

"Sorry, sorry, so sorry, didn't mean anything by it, won't happen again, I'm leaving, I'm gone—"

And then he was, disappearing around a corner so fast he left skid marks.

You stood frozen against the wall, trying to process what just happened, as the strange man turned to face you properly. His expression immediately shifted to something softer, more concerned, though there was an awkward uncertainty in his movements—like someone who'd just performed a rescue but wasn't entirely sure what the proper follow-up protocol was.

"Sooooo!" he said, perhaps a bit too brightly. "That was... that happened. You okay? Did he hurt you? Touch you? Because I can go after him if—not that I'm violent, I'm not, well, I can be, but I'm not usually, it's circumstantial, very uhh situationally dependent—"

He was rambling, you realized. This little guy who'd just scared off what could only be described as a demon with barely a word was now nervously rambling at you.

"I'm okay," you managed, your voice shaky. "Thank you. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't..."

"Oh! Well, you know, couldn't just walk by, that would be—I mean, what kind of person would I be if I just let that happen? A terrible person. The worst, really." He rocked back on his heels, spinning his cane. "Though, to be fair, the bar for 'good person' around here is literally on the floor. Underground, even. Might be in a different circle entirely—"

He cut himself off, grimacing. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I do that when I'm... anyway." He cleared his throat, straightening his jacket. "Point is, you're safe now. Well, safer. This is Hell, so 'safe' is relative, but comparatively speaking, you're in a better position than you were thirty seconds ago."

Your brain finally caught up with your ears. "I'm sorry... did you say Hell?"

The man's expression cycled through several emotions—surprise, concern, awkwardness, and something that might have been guilt—before settling on an uncomfortable wince.

"Ooh hooo boy. You really are fresh, aren't you?" He tugged at his collar. "Okay, so, um, how do I put this delicately... you're dead. Very dead. And you've ended up in Hell. The Hell. You know, fire, brimstone, eternal damnation, the whole nine yards. Well, minus the fire and brimstone right here specifically—this is Pentagram City, it's more of your urban hellscape vibe. Different aesthetic, same terrible situation."

The world tilted dangerously. You felt your knees start to give out, and suddenly the strange man was there, his hand on your elbow, steadying you.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there! Deep breaths. Well, not too deep—the air quality here is atrocious—but you know what I mean." He looked genuinely distressed at your distress. "Maybe we should sit down? Or walk? Walking might be good. Walking helps. Sometimes. Does walking help you? It helps me, but everyone's different—"

"I don't understand," you whispered, and you hated how small your voice sounded. "I wasn't... I didn't ... I never jaywalked ... I volunteered at animal shelters. I always held doors for people. I never even littered!"

"Okay, first of all, the animal shelter thing is genuinely very sweet," he said, his voice softer now. "Second, the whole 'who gets into Heaven and Hell' thing is... it's complicated. Like, bureaucratically, cosmically, frustratingly complicated. The system is kind of broken, honestly, and I've been saying that for years, but does anyone listen? No, they—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Sorry. Not helpful. Let me just..."

He offered you his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman. "Why don't we take a walk? I'll explain... well, everything, I guess. Try to make sense of the senseless. I'm good at talking—maybe too good, some would say definitely too good—and you look like you could use someone to just... talk. And walk. Talk and walk. Both. Simultaneously."

You stared at his offered arm for a moment. Every rational part of your brain was screaming that this was a terrible idea, that you shouldn't trust anyone in literal Hell, that this could be some elaborate trap.

But his eyes—those strange, yellow and red eyes—held such genuine concern. Such awkward, earnest kindness.

You took his arm.

His face lit up with a smile that was both relieved and genuinely happy. "Great! Excellent choice. I mean, probably. I like to think I'm a good choice. Not everyone would agree, but that's—that's—haHAhaha—not important right now."

As you walked through the twisted streets of Pentagram City, the man kept up a steady stream of commentary that seemed designed to keep you from spiraling into a complete breakdown. It was working, mostly.

"—and see that building over there with the eyeballs? Yeah, that's normal. Well, normal for here. Which is to say deeply abnormal by regular standards, but you're going to need to recalibrate your 'normal' meter pretty much immediately—"

You tried to take in your surroundings while simultaneously trying not to look too closely at anything. Demons of every shape and size roamed the streets. Some looked almost human, others were nightmare fuel given flesh. The architecture was a fever dream of styles—Victorian buildings leaned against art deco towers, gothic spires pierced the red sky, and everything was just slightly wrong in a way that made your eyes hurt.

"This can't be real," you murmured. "This has to be a dream. Or a coma. I'm in a coma, and this is all some weird brain chemical thing—"

"I wish I could tell you that," he said, and he sounded genuinely apologetic. "That would make this so much easier. But, uh, no. Very real. Painfully real. Literally, in some cases, depending on which district you wander into—"

"But I don't belong here!" The words burst out of you before you could stop them. "I wasn't perfect, but I tried to be good. I tried to help people. I never hurt anyone. Why would I end up in Hell?"

He was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful and sad. "The thing about the system is... it's not always about what you did or didn't do. Sometimes it's about... technicalities. Paperwork errors. Bureaucratic nonsense. Sometimes it's about one bad moment defining everything else. Sometimes..." He sighed. "Sometimes it just doesn't make sense, and that's the worst part."

You felt tears prickling at your eyes. "So I'm just stuck here? Forever? In this nightmare?"

"Hey, hey, no, don't—okay, crying is totally valid, you've earned it, this is extremely cry-worthy—" He fumbled for a moment before producing a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. It was embroidered with little ducks. "Look, I know this is overwhelmingly terrible right now. Like, top ten worst days of your afterlife. Probably number one. Definitely top three—"

Despite everything, you found yourself laughing—a slightly hysterical sound, but still a laugh. "Top three?"

"I'm hedging my bets in case it gets worse," he said, but his smile was gentle. "But here's the thing—and I know this sounds like a line, but I promise it's not—you're not alone. I know it feels like it right now, but you're not."

"I just met you five minutes ago," you pointed out, wiping your eyes with the duck handkerchief.

"Yes, well, sometimes five minutes is all it takes to decide you want to help someone." He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Besides, you seem nice. Really nice. Like, genuinely kind nice, not 'nice because I want something' nice. That's rare down here. Up there too, honestly. Rare everywhere. What I'm saying is—and I'm saying this badly—I'd like to help you. If you'll let me."

You looked at him—at his theatrical outfit and his nervous energy and the way he kept spinning his cane when he was thinking. At the kindness in his strange eyes and the awkward sincerity in every rambling sentence.

"Okay," you said softly. "I'd... I'd like that."

His entire face brightened. "Yeah? Great! That's—that's great. Fantastic, even. So, um, where should we go first? I could show you the safer parts of the city, explain the basic rules—there aren't many rules, but the ones that exist are important—oh! Or we could get food? Do you eat? Of course you eat, everyone eats, stupid question—"

"I could eat," you admitted. You hadn't thought about it, but now that he mentioned it, you were starving.

"Perfect! I know a place. Well, I know several places. Most of them are terrible, but I know one that's only moderately terrible, which is basically a five-star rating around here." He started guiding you down a side street, still talking. "They have these little pastry things that are actually pretty good, and the coffee won't kill you, which is a low bar but an important one—"

You walked in comfortable silence for a moment, just listening to him ramble about the various food establishments of Hell and their relative safety ratings. It was oddly soothing, his voice. Musical and expressive, like he was always on the verge of breaking into song.

"Can I ask you something?" you said suddenly.

"Of course! Ask away. I'm an open book. Well, a book with some pages stuck together and maybe a few chapters missing, but overall fairly readable—"

"Why are you helping me?" You bit your lip. "I mean, really. You don't know me. And you said yourself that kindness is rare here. So why go out of your way for a stranger?"

He was quiet for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, more vulnerable.

"Maybe because someone should," he said simply. "Maybe because when you've been around as long as I have, you get tired of seeing people suffer for no good reason. Maybe because..." He trailed off, then gave you a slightly shy smile. "Maybe because you remind me that there's still goodness worth protecting, even here."

Your heart did a strange little flutter in your chest. "That's... that's actually really sweet."

He coughed, a faint blush coloring his pale cheeks. "Yes, well, don't spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain. Very intimidating. Extremely fearsome. People tremble at my—okay, no one trembles, but they respect me. Mostly. Sometimes. Occasionally?"

You found yourself smiling—actually smiling—for the first time since waking up in this nightmare. "I don't think you're very intimidating."

"Ouch," he said, but he was grinning. "Devastating. My ego may never recover."

The café he led you to was surprisingly... normal. Well, as normal as anything could be in Hell. It was tucked into a corner building with large windows, no eyes on these ones, thankfully and actually looked almost cozy inside. The other patrons were demons of various types, but they seemed more interested in their coffee and conversations than in bothering anyone.

Your companion held the door open for you—because apparently chivalry wasn't dead, just damned—and guided you to a small table in the corner. A waitress appeared almost immediately, took one look at the man with you, and her expression shifted to something like nervous respect.

"The usual?" she asked him, her voice carefully neutral.

"Please! And, um..." He looked at you. "What would you like?"

You stared at the menu she'd handed you. It was in English, thankfully, but the items were... creative. "Screaming Espresso." "Brimstone Brew." "Suffering Soufflé."

"Why would anyone want soufflé to suffer ?"

"The apple pie is actually good," he offered helpfully. "And the coffee is just coffee. They give it weird names for ambiance."

"Pie sounds perfect," you said, handing the menu back to the waitress. "If you have Tea too, that would be amazing."

She nodded and disappeared, leaving you alone with your mysterious rescuer.

"So," you said, folding your hands on the table. "You know all about me—dead, confused, apparently damned—but I don't know anything about you. That seems a little unfair?"

He smiled at that, looking genuinely pleased. "Well—you just happen to be sitting with—"

The waitress interupted returning with your orders—tea that actually smelled like vanilla, pie that looked legitimately delicious, and what appeared to be some kind of elaborate hot chocolate for your companion, topped with whipped cream and apple slices.

You leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of you. "Okay, wait what is that? Because that looks kind of awesome."

"Oh! This?" He gestured to his drink, looking almost embarrassed but also excited. "It's hot chocolate with cinnamon, caramel, and apple. They make it special here. It's, uh—" he muttered under his breath, "—okay, don't oversell it, be cool—" then louder, "—it's pretty good. Really good. Arguably the best thing in Hell, but that's a low bar—why did I say low bar, stop talking—"

You couldn't help but smile at his nervous energy. "It sounds delicious."

He looked almost embarrassed. "I—yes. Okay, yes, I do. It is ah."

"It look almost to cute to drink." You giggle

His eyes widened slightly, and faint blush dusted his cheeks. "Cute. Right. I'm... cute—Nooo ho uh the drink is cute. That's not usually the word people use for me." He muttered something that sounded like "she did not call you cute, okay, why am I like this—"

You took a sip of your tea and nearly sighed in relief. It was good. Normal. A tiny piece of normalcy in the insanity.

"Thank you," you said suddenly. "For everything. For saving me, for walking with me, for bringing me here. For not leaving me alone in all this."

His expression softened into something almost tender. "Of course. I wouldn't—I couldn't just leave you. What kind of person would that make me?" He added quietly, almost to himself, "Come on, you can do this, just be normal—"

"A better one than most people down here, I imagine." You paused, then added with a look of worry "I'm really glad I ran into you though and not, you know like, the Devil or something. That would've been terrifying."

He made a strange choking sound and had to grab his hot chocolate to cover it, taking a large gulp. When he lowered the cup, there was whipped cream on his nose, and his expression was somewhere between panicked and amused. You could didn’t catch his whispered "oh, that's—that's ironic, okay, play it cool—"

"Yes," he said, his voice slightly strained. "That would have been... something. Very something. Extremely something." He shifted in his seat, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"What did you uhh wanna know? Cause you asked before the um" he gestured vaguely at the cups "before the snacks."

"Well... what do you do here? You seem..." You gestured vaguely at him. "Important? That guy ran away from you pretty fast. And the waitress looked like she recognized you."

"I'm, uh, I'm in management," he said, fiddling with his cane. "Upper management. Very boring, lots of paperwork, endless meetings—you know how it is. Corporate Hell. Which is redundant, really, corporate anything is Hell, but here it's literally—I'm rambling again."

"I don't mind," you said honestly. "It's nice. Makes this all feel less... hellish."

"Thanks,"

You took another sip of tea, while you took stock of your situation. You'd just arrived in Hell, learned you were dead and damned, and here you were with a stranger in a ringmaster outfit.

Though, to be fair, he was a very kind stranger in a ringmaster outfit. And funny in an awkward, endearing way.

"I just realized," you said suddenly. "I never asked your name."

His expression shifted again—that now-familiar look of awkwardness and internal debate. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. You could see his lips moving slightly as he seemed to have a rapid internal conversation with himself. "Just tell her—no wait—maybe just—okay, compromise—"

Finally, he seemed to come to a decision.

"Lu," he said, his voice soft. "You can call me Lu."

"Lu," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. It suited him somehow. Short, sweet, unassuming. "It's nice to meet you, Lu. Officially."

His smile was radiant and genuine and just a little bit shy. "It's nice to meet you too. Officially."

As you sat there in that little café in Hell, drinking coffee and eating pie and talking with the strange man named Lu, you couldn't help but think that maybe—just maybe—eternal damnation wouldn't be quite so damning with help like his.

He'd definitely try to pull his whole shenanigans about smiling. "You should smile more, my dear." And you just hummed in response.

I mean, he definitely hit a sore spot as people used to tell you that all the time when you were alive, and it was annoying, but you weren't going to respond emotionally since that usually made things worse.

But to him... Just a hum??? No eye roll, no 'shut up and mind your own business'?

You were giving him way too little attention for his own liking. The game was ON

Alastor definitely loved turning everything into a challenge / rivalry. I mean, it's easier to build a connection based on competing and hatred than actual care and teamwork, huh Alastor???

Anywho he'd start scheming.

At first he'd make sure to make as many witty remarks as possible around you. Roasting the other guests a little too hard, mind-fucking Angel with things he cannot even process, getting on Husk's nerves. Alastor is an entertainer after all, so it shouldn't be that hard.

Except it was. You watched, but you didn't seem to really care.

Then he began to make silly jokes. One time he came up to you and asked "What's red and bad for your teeth?" You were half expecting to make a joke about himself, but instead he said "a brick." The others who heard the joke started laughing, but you simply deadpanned at him and blinked.

He was beginning to be irritated.

So he figured, maybe you didn't have the same sense of humour as he did. Maybe you didn't like violence. (Even if he considered that pitiful.)

So... Well... There are other ways to make someone smile. He brought you a cup of coffee. You thanked him. He brought you flowers randomly one day. You looked surprised, looking back between him and the flowers, but your lips didn't curl up. He held doors for you. He bought you gifts, brought you books to read, and even took you out to wine and dine with you. (Normal food.)

To anyone else, it would honestly look like he was courting you. Heavily.

You were also completely torn between thinking he's still trying to get you to smile (you figured it out, you weren't stupid) or maybe... He genuinely liked you. He sure acted like it, but you knew from what others told you that he's not the type.

Eventually, even Alastor grew tired. So he... Resulted to something a bit more manipulative.

He joined everyone for dinner one evening. (I like to imagine sometimes they have shared dinners in a dining hall.) It was unlike him to do so, but everybody welcomed him nonetheless. Everybody ate their fill, chatting about this and that. As you were getting ready to leave, he stopped you.

"I think you have something stuck in your teeth, darling" he said. You placed a hand over your lips in embarrassment. "Hold on. Show me." For your defense, you've grown fond of Alastor, even if he had his antics. So you obliged, showing him your teeth.

"My, my. What a beautiful smile you'd have if you tried, darling." That felt like a kick to the shin. You turned your back to him in a flash.

"You really aren't gonna let up... On this whole smiling business?" You tried to not let your emotions show. But it was goddamn heartbreaking to think all those months he spent with you were because he wanted to prove a goddamn point.

"It's not my fault you have such pretty teeth under those lips, cheri." You grew exasperated, turning around to say something mean to him, but your words got stuck in your throat. "You-"

His face was so close to yours, your noses were almost touching. You could feel the heat of his breath. He was grinning at you, coy and with fake sweetness, eyes bearing into yours. Your breath got stuck in your throat and your heart pounded.

After taking a moment to recollect yourself, you told him bluntly. " I am not going to smile."

"You really think so, my dear? I am not giving up. Not until I make you smile for me. At least once. " Your lips tightened and your jaw clenched. And then you left. Fuck this, fuck him and his teasing and flirting and his pretty face -

Ugh.

You began to distance yourself from Alastor after that. Obviously, since he broke your trust. And a part continued to think that all the kindness coming from him was just a way of guilt tripping you into a smile. But the other part... Wanted to think it was real.

Unbeknownst to you, Alastor was also thinking about you. He was irritated that he couldn't figure you out. A smile to him was just a pleasantry, a social exchange, but you were immovable. More so than the fact that you were winning over him - he's a man of patience and he knows winning takes effort - he was more pissed at the fact that he couldn't understand why he cared so much about it.

He was debating all these things while walking down the gruesome streets of hell, minding his own errands. On the way back to the hotel, he accidentally stumbled upon a litter of abandoned hell kittens. They were skinny, dirty and malnourished. He checked both ways to see if anyone was looking, and with the snap of a finger, he materialized a makeshift shelter for them from sticks and leaves. He couldn't have anyone find out he had a soft spot for vulnerable critters. Then, he also spawned some water and soft food. The kittens wobbled their way to eat immediately. Satisfied, Alastor adjusted his jacket and moved on.

You were in the main room when he entered through the grand doors of the hotel. Sitting there, as calm and emotionless as ever. You were having a soft conversation with another guest, and barely spared Alastor a glance. That, until, your eyes widened. It was the most emotion he'd seen on your face.

"What's with that poor kitten?" You asked, and Alastor looked down at his feet. One of the baby kittens had followed him all the way inside. Now it was pawing at his shoes and meowing.

"It seems the little critter followed me here." You asked more questions. He told you about the kittens. Then, with soft eyes and gentle fingers, you picked up the kitten. It didn't fight you.

"Oh you're so dirty, little baby." You cooed to the kitten. It comically answered you with a meow.

After a whole "Can I keep him? 🥹" Conversation with Charlie, you were allowed to keep him. Alastor was dumbstruck about how the little critter brought out such emotional expressions on your face; and the way your voice whined as you pleaded to Charlie. A kitten was winning over him???

You took your newly adopted baby to your room (where he would reside) to clean him up. He (according to genitalia) was a very tame and loving kitten and did not protest.

A week or so later, you heard a soft knock on your door. Upon allowing them to enter, you saw it was Alastor. You have been busy caring for the kitten, and he hadn't seen you in a while.

"I just wanted to check on our resident rescue." He told you. It was a lie.

The kitten was playing with you on your lap. His ears were a bit too sharp for a normal cat, he had tiny vampire teeth and a tail that looked more devilish than kitten-like. But you didn't care. He was your baby.

"He seems quite energetic!" Alastor exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"Yes! He ate well and he's becoming strong and mighty! Right, little buddy?" You baby talked the kitty with sparkles in your eyes and your lips - they were curled into a smile.

You were smiling.

Alastor had won, but it was completely by accident. He chuckled to himself, and it caught your attention.

"Have you named the young lad?" He asked you, sitting down on the bed next to you and the kitten. He carefully offered him a finger and began to play with the soft animal.

"No, not yet."

"How about naming him... Smiles?"

The name should have pissed you off. But it didn't. You continued to smile, and asked the kitten: "Smiles. What do you think about it, pretty baby?" The cat meowed back at you.

"He seems to like it!" Alastor exclaimed, and then came a moment of peace. Your expression was so peaceful and full of warmth. "I also come bearing gifts." He said, and snapped his fingers. A cardboard box appeared, full of cat toys and food for the little guy.

You peered inside and gasped. Then your lips parted and you full on grinned with excitement. "Thank you, Alastor!"

Ba-dum. His cold, dead heart did a flip.

You had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

And it was directed at him. Only him.

"You are quite welcome, my dear. Thought the little man might enjoy some entertainment!" You continued to beam, rummaging through the contents of the box.

Alastor also reached inside the box to grab a toy and your fingers touched. The world stopped for a second.

He pulled out a dangle toy with feathers and instantly caught the attention of the kitten. Smiles climbed on top of his legs and began to softly smack at the feathers.

You watched Alastor gently play with the kitten and suddenly, your heart forgave him. There was no way in heaven he was doing this to gain a favor. This was genuine.

The next genuine thing that happened is that he wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your shoulder clashed into his, and you didn't even manage to register it because his hand softly guided your head to rest on his shoulder. Then, he held you there, hand holding your arm softly, as if he was giving you the option to escape.

"You have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen, cheri." He told you softly. You were flustered beyond belief, but then he landed a soft kiss on top of your hair.

Jsjsnsosksnsmskos????

Your face was red. Your whole existence was red. And worst of all, he tilted your chin up with one finger to look into his eyes.

"Thank you for smiling for me, dear."

The tension was insane. You were both staring at each other like teenagers in love. You bit your lip, and he watched you intently.

Then, he leaned in to kiss you. It was a soft kiss. But it was warm and electric and shook you to the core.

The kitten meowed, catching both of your attention. Alastor grinned.

"Guess we are his parents now." He stated, and still flustered, you nodded.

"If you'd like?" You asked tentatively.

"I'd love to."

And that is the story of how you both began to foster smiles together.

Sentence with double meaning ^

Today you decided to sit at the bar in the lobby, as you were waiting for Alastor to return from his errand. He supposedly planned an outing for both of you, but until he gets here you have time to spare.

Husk was behind the bar looking at the drink rack along with Fat Nuggets who is eating a bowl of nuts. You’d think that he’d get tired of the little rascal causing such a mess, but no, he seemed to find it a bit endearing, or maybe he just favored its owner.  

Boris and Archie are in the lobby with you near the couches. Archie is sleeping, while Boris makes his way towards you slowly. Your big boy may look like a meanie but in reality, he’s a softy. However, Alastor begs to differ, he complains that Boris trips him on purpose, eats his food when he’s not looking and just so many other complaints. You don’t listen to him, because how can your baby do something so naughty? You’ll always pick their side, which makes Alastor a bit mad, claiming that you’re just picking favorites.

You sip your drink as Boris opens his mouth.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

His teeth are already cleaned, they practically clean themselves with the small fish in the water. There’s no one to intimidate, you should know since Boris mostly does this when Alastor is nearby. The temperature is quite cool, it shouldn’t bother him. So, what could be wrong? You shrug and take a sip of your drink again.

Fat Nuggets jumps off the table with a snort and waddles on the floor. He stops short and tilts his head at the open cavern that was Boris’s mouth. Happily, he prances his way towards the large gator. He sticks his head into Boris’s mouth, takes a quick sniff and decides to step inside. Fat Nuggets circles around in his mouth three times before finally laying down.

You were swirling your drink when you finally turned to see the little creature inside his mouth. Your mouth drops and you hold your cup tightly. Husk sees this in the corner of his eye and turns to see what you’re looking at.

Husk does a double take, “What the fuck?!” he quickly steps out of the bar.

Fat Nugget is awfully calm as it seems that the little piggy has fallen asleep.

“Well, that hasn’t happened before..” You say a bit softly.

“What the hell do you mean?”

You turn towards Husk before turning you head back towards the confusing scene, “Usually, Boris clamps his jaws shut as soon as the prey steps in his mouth.”

Husk visually pales.

“He likes to eat the frogs on the lily pads and Fat Nuggets seems about the right size too.”

“That doesn’t help our situation.”

Boris begins to slowly close his mouth, which Husk quickly takes notice of and puts his hands out to the gator. Boris doesn’t like that. He hisses and lightly whips his tail. Husk moves backwards which makes you stand up from your chair.

“Boris, don’t you dare hurt the little fella.” You calmly say. While your babies prefer the large portions of meat you feed them, they like to snack on the smaller creatures around the area every now and then. Do you think that Fat Nuggets can lose his adorable life very quickly? Absolutely.

It seems like Boris heard you but decides he wants to play instead.

Boris lowers his jaw inch by inch, making Husk’s heart speed up.

“Aren’t you going to do something?!” Husk asks you rather panickily.

You walk forward which makes Boris close his mouth closer to Fat Nuggets head.

“Ah, ah, ah, stop that.” You wag a finger towards him. Well, it looks like that isn’t working. You place a hand on your hip and think about what could be done to fix this, before Angel finds out that his baby became a light snack.

You summon a large piece a raw venison, “Boris look what I got! Your favorite!” You wave the meat in front of him. This seems to please him as he growls happily.

The growl wakes up Fat Nuggets, who blinks the sleepiness away.

“Good he’s awake.” Husk kneels down, ushering the piggy out of the beast’s mouth, “Come on you runt...”

Fat Nuggets stands up, not even looking a bit scared.

“Come on…” he continues to beckon, Husk moves closer as he does so.

Yet when he does this, Boris immediately shuts his mouth.

Husk stumbles backwards and you drop the venison on the ground. You both turn to look at each other.

“I’m sure he hasn’t eaten him….” You sound a bit unsure.

“What the fuck do you call what just happened then!?”

Just as you both are discussing this, Angel Dust walks down the stairs.

“Hey, guys, have you seen Fat Nuggets? I can’t find him anywhere...” He says while holding a little sweater, “I got him this Christmas sweater I wanted him to try on.” Angel smiles.

It’s silent for a moment and everything just stays in place.

“What’s wrong? You guys look like you’ve just seen one of my movies!” He laughs, “If that’s it then I recommend watching “Stuck in the Jaws of Lust” it’s probably one of my best ones!”

Husk shakes his head, “You might want to sit down, legs.”

“Wait, why?”

As Angel sits on the bar stool a snort is heard in the direction of gator on the ground.

“What the hell was that?”

A squeal is heard next.

“Is that… Fat Nuggets?!” Angel stands up quickly, “Did that fucking Alligator eat him!?”

You stand in front of Boris, “Now, now, he didn’t mean it!”

“The fuck you mean he didn’t mean it, my baby is in its mouth!”

Just as the argument is about to escalate, Boris opens his jaws. Fat Nugget stands giddily, it almost seems like he’s smiling. He hops out and looks at Boris with curious eyes.

Boris closes his mouth and stares at the small creature. Fat Nuggets snorts in delight and nuzzles Boris. The gator welcomes this comfort with growl.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Angel scratches his head.

This is an odd occurrence. Boris and Archie have been brothers since you received them. Although it did take a while for them to get used to each other. Of course, Archie was a baby when you first got him but as he grew older, he wanted to show off his strength. They both used to fight each other for dominance over territory, but after you had a sit down with both of them the two are never seen without the other.

It seems that Boris doesn’t see Fat Nuggets as an enemy or prey. Just a new playmate.

ﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟﾟ*☆*ﾟ

I thought this was really fun to make. Thanks for all the love on the first post! I have a Christmas one coming soon so stay tuned for that. This was kinda like an origin for the two besties.

Wordcount: 1217

Make a wish.

Because Vox for the first time in forever has a whole day free.

And by free day I mean a FREEEE day. Not only off work, but off everything. NOBODY to bother him today because of personal or work matters. He's just by himself!

You know he's a busy man… But you know who takes the worst part of all? His lover. God, that poor sweet thing has to wait too long to have a full day together because when he isn't working, they happen to be. But fucking finally! FINALLY they have a full free day together!

Which you know what that means!

“Vox, if you want to go do something else that's not related to me, you can… You can roam through the house without having to follow me.”

Vox is extremely clingy today, not wanting to be away from them because he has the privilege today to do it!

His arms are firmly wrapped around their shoulders, following them as they just got up to go grab a snack in the kitchen. He's just in this little paradise that is their penthouse with them in his arms. As if he wanted to pull away from them!

“Mmno. Besides, I have nothing to do today anyways, babe.”

“Me neither but– but you know you can go back to bed if you want to…”

They reach for the fridge, but before they can, he immediately lets go of them, only to wrap his arms around their waist and lift them with a grunt of effort and a toothy smile. They kick and yell because of the unexpected action.

“VOX-!!”

He sits them up on the countertop and once they're sitting down, he pats their thighs and walks to the fridge.

“Let me fetch you something! Don't worry your pretty little head about a thing!”

… Of course, he would be especially helpful today when he gets to. Reaching the fridge he looks at them. God, he looks just so happy about such a simple little thing like fetching them something…

“What do you feel like having? We have… Pretty much anything… Were you going for anything in particular?”

They can't help but feel a smile curling its way to their lips. They could get used to this… They could perfectly have someone to do things for them, but the domestic vibe this has feels more rewarding than having someone do it. They peek from where they are, and Vox moves aside to let them see the inside of the fridge. Raising a finger they wonder through the possibilities and then speak.

“That pink soda can, maybe?”

“The pink soda then-”

When he goes to take it then he checks it… then he shakes his head.

“... Uh… Uh, actually, baby? No, you can't have this. Pick something else.”

Confused, they raise an eyebrow. What does he mean they can't have it?

“Why? What… What's wrong with it?”

He purses his… lips? His mouth on the screen as he looks at the can.

“Okay, so… you know Val and Vel made this… love potion collab? They released a soda version. My idea, by the way. I appeared in the ad, remember?”

Trying to remember... They remember the ad. My God, what a pain that ad was. He wouldn't stop saying that it was a bright idea to have it in a can, that it was his idea, and… Fuck.

“Aaaah! So it's the one from that ad? You looked really handsome.”

The praise is enough to have him smiling warmly at them like an idiot. With something that simple and they already have him around their little finger.

“Of course I did. So that every time you saw the ad you would miss me and come right back to me.”

He decides to open the can and take a long sip from it before speaking again.

“So, that's what I was saying. I'm keeping this for me, you can't have it because it would work with you. Which fucking sucks for you, honey, because it's incredible.”

Yeah, yeah... The strong aphrodisiac it had in it didn't affect him so he could casually drink it, they couldn't, womp womp.. Moving on…

“Okay, then get me something else? You choose.”

What power they put in his hands, it's a lot… But like the good, desperate boyfriend he is, he knows what to do. Walking back to them, taking another sip of his drink and leaving it on top of the counter beside them he stops when he's in front of them. His clawed fingers lock with theirs as he leans closer to them.

“What if we replace the snack with some popcorn and a movie? I have a few on my watchlist… We could check them out…”

They squeeze his hand a bit, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer, kissing the top of his screen.

“If you make the popcorn and I take a look at the list, we have a deal.”

He buries his face further against their chest and nods.

“Yes, but…”

The hand that's not holding their hand wraps around their waist, hugging them against him.

“Let me hold you for a second, will you?”

“We'll have the whole movie to cuddle, no need to make it in the kitchen–”

He pulls his head away from their chest, raising his gaze to them.

“Shut up. Suck it up.”

His head then rests over their shoulders.

“It's been a long time since I've been able to hold you like this and don't have anyone trying to fuck me or bother me with work stuff. Let me have you…”

They decide not to say anything, letting him have this moment of calm for himself. They just melt against him, and they hold each other for a moment there. There is absolutely no pressure, besides the sleepiness I feel while writing this because it's late and I'm dozing off.

“God, what have I even done to be in Hell and deserve an angel with me?”

“Sweetheart, angels kill sinners.”

“... Yeah, I thought about that after saying it.”

“I know you meant well, but that's not a good comparison.”

“I– I just wanted to say you're perfect and I love you and you are like a divine being?”

“But think before speaking. What if I had some kind of personal story with angels and that triggered my trauma? Vox, please.”

“Next time I'll just say I love you instead of trying to be romantic! Fuck, Reader.”

They stay silent for a moment before actually chuckling. He presses a kiss on their lips before moving away, leaving them missing his physical contact.

“Go check whatever the fuck’s on my watchlist while I prepare your snacks.”

They nod, pecking his lips (... screen) one last time before getting off the counter and walking to the living room, turning on the TV. Vox, on his part, takes again the can and sips from it, as he gets ready to prepare the popcorn for their movie time.

It's weird being this soft in general with someone… but he can't help himself. They make being soft enjoyable. These small things of life that he just never really found to be appealing, now suddenly make much more sense and makes him feel… happy. He wishes he could stay longer with them, in those arms, close to them to kiss them, breath them. To be a couple. To be next to the one who makes Hell feel like a beautiful oasis instead of a tank full of thousands of small fishes in which he's lucky to be a shark and feed on them. They make it all worth it at the end of the day. And he wishes he could stay like this, as this normal couple enjoying the rest of his afterlife loving them and making sure they're happy. Together.

“Vooox. Baaabe. Why do you have The 120 Days of Sodom in your watchlist??”

He should never have given Val his Voxflix account password.

The can, now practically empty, is squeezed hard by his hand.

“If only the other overlords knew, then maybe-”

“If only they knew….so she could be higher on the assassination list than she already is?” Vox asked nonchalantly, glancing at the seven year old climbing on the couch behind them. “You really want to pay for additional security, on top of what we have, not to mention the actual risk of bringing her to an overlord meeting?”

The three of them stood in a triad, Velvette scrolling through her phone as usual. Unbothered, by the entire situation. Though the thought of more money going towards what Valentino was convinced Velvette saw as a nuisance- albeit a cute one- seemed to have brought her back to attention. 

“Absolutly not,” she said flatly. “Whoever babysits has to have knowledge of her already. And bringing her along is out of the question. We don’t traumatize kids here.” She paused with a glance at Vox. “Well, I don’t anyway.”

Vox opened his mouth as if to protest and then closed it when the other two overlords gave him a writhing look. 

“Fine,” Valentino said after a moment. “Bringing her along is out of the question. So the next option is what, exactly?” He crossed his arms and glowered at the other two. 

“What about Angel?” Vox asked after a moment, “I’m sure we could…convince him, if necessary. And it's not like it would cost him extra. Hell, he’s under contract.”

Angel knew Valentino had a daughter. Hell, it was Angel who found her, creeping along the back wall of the porn studio at five years old, begging for her Papi. It was Angel who scooped her up and brought her up front to Valentino and Angel, only Angel, who saw the momentary flash of fear in Valentino’s eyes before he snatched the child away. 

“Kids don’t belong in this studio, Angel,” he spat before personally removing the offending child. “You’d do well to remember that.”

But the basket of flowers and chocolate in his dressing room that night only confirmed his suspicion. 

So when Valentino called and informed Angel he would be participating in a different type of job for the night, Angel wasn’t surprised. But when he walked into the penthouse, not for the first time in his life,but for the first time in the past seven years, Angel paused. Gone away were the lavish velveteen couches, the pink and red hues that he had known. They had been replaced by soft greys and blues, hues that would easily hide the kind of stains children were known to produce. The more he looked around the room, the more he realized that he could have been standing in the living room of a normal family- not the living room of three of the biggest and most depraved overlords hell had to offer. 

“Good, you’re here.” 

Valentino’s voice snapped Angel from his thoughts. He turned around to see his boss, the overlord of lust and depravity, dressed in his signature pimp getup holding…

Well, holding a child.

“Mina, this is Uncle Angel,” Valentino said in a voice Angel had never heard him use. “He’s going to stay with you tonight. Can you say hello, mi princessa?”

“Hi,” she answered shyly. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised. He turned to Angel. “Bedtime is at eight, she’s had her bath, she’s in her pjs, she’s eaten dinner but she can have whatever she wants from the snack cupboard or her snacks in the fridge. Speaking of, she can have juice, water or milk to drink. We don’t do soda in this house, right mi amore?” 

To Angel’s surprise, he kissed the child on the top of the head. After a few murmured goodbyes and promises to be there when she woke up, he turned again to Angel.

“Call my cell if there is an emergency,” he said shortly. “We’ll be back around midnight.”

As soon as Valentino was out the door, Angel looked at Reader. 

“So, kiddo, what do you want to play?”

“Play? With me?” Her eyes lit up. “You have time to play?”

Her words hit Angel in a way he didn’t expect. 

“Of course,” Angel answered after a momentary pause. “What do you want to do?”

The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity. Stickers, coloring pages, crafts- the Vee’s offered no shortage of toys for their daughter. Endless amounts of toys, dolls and dress ups. At one point, Angel truly couldn’t tell who was having more fun- him or her. 

“Please please please please come back Uncle Angel,” Reader begged as he tucked the covers around her, precisely at eight pm. 

“I can only come back if I follow yer daddy’s instructions to the letter,” Angel said for what felt like the tenth time. “No rule breaking."

That she seemed to understand and to Angel’s relief, she went to sleep without further protest. 

The call came two days later. 

Vox’s number lit up the screen. From the comfort of his dressing room, Angel’s heart constricted. Vox never called, not unless he wanted something. What could he possibly want this time?

“Hey Vox,”

“Uncle Angel!” Reader’s voice shrieked on the other side of the line. 

“Reader? What are you doing with yer Daddy’s phone? Did he say you could call me?” 

“She’s been begging for you to come back for the past two days,” Vox’s voice cut onto the line. “I arranged with Valentino to move tomorrow afternoons,” there was a pause, “meeting. So you have the afternoon free to come and play.”

Like before, it wasn’t a request, but Angel didn’t mind.