#woooah

Really a fan of that one panel on the latest ask of @garden-view-askblog

inspo:

Cause I finally finished writing it! Sorry the updates haven’t been as fast as I would have liked y’all! I’ve been in a sort of love/hate relationship with my writing where I write paragraphs just to delete them 🙃 But I like how this came out!

Ao3 link HERE and the rest will be below! Enjoy :)

Oh and previous chapters!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 <- that’s where we are!

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

CW/TW: allusions to suicide/racism, dragon, partial demonic transformation, general angst

Chapter 9: All or Nothing

Unseen, we climb higher and higher into the deep crimson-hued skies above the Pride ring. The invisible ink that coats our forms is cool to the touch, like the wind around us.

The harsh sound of whipping winds lessens as Encre evens out- reaching an altitude she finds acceptable. We fly in companionable silence for some time. Alastor’s arms are still wrapped around my middle- his chin resting on my head.

The closeness in the quiet feels more…intimate somehow. Coupled with the fact that neither of us can see the other - or anything other than the sprawl of the Pentagram beneath us. The lights of the different districts twinkle far below, like looking at the stars in reverse.

“It’s a bit bizarre…” Alastor’s quiet murmur at my ear breaks the silence. I feel a smile curve my lips at the remark.

“Which part?” I ask, amused.

Alastor chuckles lightly. I feel more than hear the sound, like a low rumble in his chest that’s pressed firmly against my spine. I savor the sensation and the sound.

“I suppose there’s quite a few things about our current position that might fit that description…” he admits, his exhale of breath is warm against the back of my neck as he continues.

“I was referring, specifically, to the fact that we are so completely…concealed. I can feel you in my arms-” he tightens his embrace, as if to prove to himself that he can indeed feel me, his arms flexing around my middle as he speaks.

“Yet, I cannot see you, nor Encre beneath us…” he says and I glance down to where I know Encre is beneath us and rest my invisible hand against her unseen scales. Though I can feel her, even I can’t see what my ink hides…meaning even without Alastor at my back, I wouldn’t be able to see the expression on his face as he remarks,

“It’s quite the power you possess, my Dear, to vanish so thoroughly.” He pauses a moment, as if he somehow knows my brow is furrowed in confusion despite the fact that neither of us can see the other.

“You disappear too…it’s not so unique…” I murmur, shifting slightly in my seat atop Encre. Unwilling to readily accept his praise for what I usually view as the most basic of my abilities. Alastor clicks his tongue and I can feel him shake his head a bit before he replies.

“Not like this…” he murmurs and pauses a moment before continuing, like he’s contemplating how to phrase the next words carefully.

“When I vanish…it’s into the shadows, the darkness that’s already there…and I can still be seen as a shadow if someone knows to look for me…” he says so quietly that I almost can’t hear him over the wind. As if, even up here- invisible and easily a mile, if not more, above the Pentagram- he’s concerned someone might overhear the nature of his power.

“Like last night in the hall…” I murmur and I feel him nodding against my head as he tightens his grip around my middle.

“Yes…that admittedly was a rather sloppy execution on my part. I wasn’t aware anyone was watching. Not to mention, I was a bit more focused on traveling with speed, rather than stealth… back to where I believed you were at the time…” he says and I can hear the amusement in his tone as he recalls my invisible antics. He places a kiss to the side of my neck and I can feel the smile on his lips as they meet my skin.

I consider his words, recalling all the ways thus far I’ve seen him utilize the shadows…

The way he sunk into his own shadow that first night after destroying the watch Vox gave to Pentious…traveling faster than I could run as a spot of darkness on the floor.

Or the way his Shadow handed him his clothes as we dressed…and the way that same Shadow pinned my arms above my head before we dressed…

Then, there’s the way it teleported us up to the rooftop in a matter of seconds. Just a flash of dark and thrumming energy before our location completely shifted!

“The shadows aided you in life…and now continue to do so…” I murmur, understanding dawning on me as I speak the words aloud.

It makes sense now that I think about it.

Those nights he’d come home late and I wouldn’t see the stains on his clothes in the shadows of our dimly lit living room…not until the following morning when they’d gone from crimson to a dark brown.

Or the way he’d sometimes step into a side alley when we’d go out dancing- ‘just for a smoke’, he’d say… The few times I’d followed, he’d almost seemed to materialize out of the shadowy corners- ushering me inside.

My blood chills, though, as I recall the way the shadows of the branches near his head did anything, but aid him on the night of his death…perhaps that’s why, even now, that portion of his powers comes with caveats.

Alastor stiffens slightly behind me, like he’s recalling the same thing. There’s a considerable pause before he speaks again.

“Something like that, yes.” He says quietly before squeezing me twice in his embrace. A reassuring gesture.

“Just as you used to wield paint and ink with such precision in life and continue to do so.” He murmurs against my ear and it’s my turn to stiffen.

For the first time, I’m glad he can’t see the expression on my face as I recall exactly why I believe this ink is the form my sins have taken…

“Something like that…” I murmur, parroting his words and sentiment.

We ride in silence for a while longer, though, it’s charged now with unspoken things. Only the steady stream of wind whistling past our ears for long minutes before Alastor speaks. So quietly, I barely catch the question.

“Did you know…?” He asks, trepidation lining the words, almost like he doesn’t actually want to know the answer.

I know what he means. It’s a question I’m well familiar with, after all. So much so, in fact, that a humorless laugh escapes me.

“You sound like our neighbors,” I say in explanation and I feel his limbs relax slightly at the tired amusement in my tone. I can hear the slight smile in his voice as he replies.

“Oh? Which ones?” He asks teasingly and I laugh in earnest at his shameless curiosity. Though, there’s a slight edge of melancholy in my words as I reply honestly.

“All of them,” I say softly

“Though, I suppose the Peabody’s asked me that particular question the most times…” I add with a slight smirk. Alastor chuckles lightly behind me, but there’s a forced edge to the sound.

“I still argue that a more appropriate surname for those two would have been ‘Busybodies’…” he mutters and I grin at the old inside joke we used to make at our nosy neighbors expense.

The grin is short lived as I heave a sigh before answering his original question.

“I…I didn’t know the specifics, certainly not the extent, of your…proclivities…” I admit softly.

Once again, I find myself grateful for the invisibility that cloaks us. At least this way he can’t see the heat staining my cheeks at my own admission of how little I really, truly, knew about him in life…before he died.

The simple fact that he can’t see me as I admit this, and the fact that I can’t see his reaction to my words…spurs more words from my lips.

“I…I did know when you were lying, though…about being out late…or the stains on your shirts…and some of the books in the cabin…” I admit, the words tumbling out in a nervous heap before I can stop myself.

I feel Alastor’s frame go rigid behind mine. Guilt gnaws at my chest at the sensation, at the thought I’ve worried or offended him somehow. So I hastily add,

“I-I’ve never actually admitted that part out loud, though. And I wouldn’t have…” I trail off, cursing my clumsy tongue.

I wouldn’t have what? Admitted it? Turned him in? Judged him? Been afraid? None of the conclusions I can come up with for the end of that phrase seem to fit…so I just fall silent.

I don’t even realize the tears welling in my eye until the golden liquid appears. It shines brightly and briefly as it falls from my face and then vanishes again as it makes contact with the invisible liquid ink of Encre’s scales beneath me.

Alastor’s hand shifts- moving from my middle to slide up my side and then my shoulder. His fingers trail a path from my shoulder to my neck until his hand is cupping my cheek.

Wordlessly, his fingers navigate the unseen curves of my cheekbones, the bridge of my nose, the swell of my lips… Until, finally, the broad flat side of his thumb swipes away the remaining tears pooled at my eye.

“You owe me no explanations. And certainly no tears…” he whispers, and I feel my body sag backwards against his chest, relieved at the gentle quality to his voice. Alastor’s hold with his remaining arm around my middle tightens in response- crushing my body as close to his as he can.

“I won’t ask you why you allowed me to lie unchecked to a woman as brilliant, kind-hearted, and beautiful as you…” he murmurs against my neck and I bite my lip to keep it from trembling.

Shame claws at the back of my mind as I recall the excuses and explanations I mapped out in my head all those years ago…reasons why I’d thought he might lie. Alastor’s voice cuts through the nagging noise as he says,

“But, I shall promise not to lie to you again, Ma Cher. I won’t ever leave you to the mercy of the likes of the Peabody’s, or anyone else, ever again.” He says with conviction and sincerity.

His words encircle my mind, soothing, calming, and reassuring me all at once. Just as he used to do in life. Those words also spark something else, though…a question.

“Can I ask you something, then?” I murmur, shifting slightly against his chest. Alastor leans forward to kiss my cheek before replying.

“Anything you like, Ma Cher…” he whispers against my skin. I nod and take a deep breath, trying to find the words.

“Then…what are you doing here? Or…there rather-”

I tug at Encre’s mane in my hands, gently turning the massive beast so that we’re flying parallel to the looming shape of The Hazbin Hotel in the distance.

“At the hotel? Do you… believe in Charlie? In her plans to redeem souls…do you believe such a thing is even possible…?” I ask quietly, my voice barely a whisper on the final words.

I stare at the glowing marquee in the distance, wondering if I believe in such things either…

Alastor is quiet for a few beats. I still can’t see his expression, but I feel him shift behind me, his head tilting to one side, like he is quietly considering my questions before answering.

“That is…quite the ponderance, my Dear…I told the others at the hotel I am there to quell the feelings of boredom. The entertainment of watching wasteful souls strive to achieve something meaningful and then fail spectacularly…” he says, pumping a little fanfare into the words- almost like he’s rehearsed the phrase. Then, he sighs as he adds,

“But…I had just promised not to lie to you, didn’t I?” He asks with a rueful tone before continuing,

“It’s a weighted question, whether or not I believe in Charlie. Especially when I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all that Charlie is…” he pauses, like he’s debating on whether or not he should elaborate.

“Do you know what a ‘nephilim’ is, Dearest?” He asks suddenly and I nod as I reply,

“Yes… they’re mentioned in Genesis if I can recall correctly…though, it’s been some time since I’ve seen a Bible…” I wrack my brain trying to recall specifics of passages in a book I haven’t laid eyes on- or eye, now I suppose- in decades.

“They were the beings the Great Flood depicted in the Bible was meant to eradicate, half mortal and half…fallen angel…” I murmur.

A flash of an old memory that suddenly feels crystal clear in my mind’s eye. A memory of endless grey, and of an angel with eyes of gold and crimson and a sad smile... Understanding washes over me.

“You’re saying… Charlie is a nephilim because …Lucifer is her father” I say softly.

I haven’t spoken the king of this realm’s name in so many years.

Yet, even now, as I utter his name I feel a tug at my chest. As if I can still feel my soul within his grasp, tethered, despite the fact that I haven’t seen him since that day…all those years ago.

Alastor nods and continues, seemingly unaware of the sudden stillness that’s overcome me.

“Precisely, my Dove. Though, it’s not solely her paternal inheritance that interests me…” he pauses for a moment, waiting for me to fill in the gaps, I realize. I try to pull my focus back to the topic at hand. Not just her paternal heritage but-

“You mean her mother, Lilith, the first mortal woman…and queen of demons…” my brow furrows as I try to follow what exactly it is Alastor is hinting at, but he picks up the thread with ease.

“A mortal woman who became the first sinner…it’s a potent combination, don’t you think? Our Charlie? She’s half a step removed from a deity on one side… and not much different from us on the other…” Alastor sighs at the thought before adding,

“There’s something about that …mixed heritage of hers that resonates with me, certainly…” I can hear the smile in his voice at that and I let out a half a laugh.

“I suppose that aspect of her heritage is relatable…if a bit more cosmically significant than either of ours…” I mutter and Alastor chuckles before he continues.

“Precisely my point, Dearest! How often did our multitude of backgrounds affect our human lives? Charlie’s multiple inheritances… it’s not just the perspective it gives her, there’s power at play to consider as well.” He says, squeezing around my middle on the word ‘power’. I sigh in realization and resignation.

“That’s…that’s why you’re helping her? To observe how her powers might manifest?” I ask softly before pursing my lips.

I can hardly believe I dared to ask the question. Yet, at the same time, I have to know if that’s truly all he’s doing at the hotel that Encre’s massive frame is now turning back towards.

I try and recall what I’ve heard of the Princess’s powers…and come up surprisingly empty.

All I can recall, is what I witnessed last night, when she sang with Pentious. The way the song she sung seemed to create the glowing light that seemed to radiate outwards from Charlie herself…the feeling of genuine forgiveness and peace that washed over me as I heard it…Song was her mother’s power too…

“Give me some credit, Darling, I should like to do a bit more than simply observe. Charlie is a unique being- in both a cosmic and personal sense- I hope to help…guide her…” Alastor’s quick response cuts through the spiral of overlapping thoughts on the Princess and whatever power she might possess.

“Guide her how…?” I ask curiously, my brow furrowing at the way he emphasizes that word.

“That…remains to be seen. As for her plans for redemption…” he sighs before lowering his voice.

“If you had asked me a few days ago? I would have said of course not. That there’s no undoing what’s been done. The chance given was the life we lived before and this is the punishment…” I feel one of his arms leave my side as he gestures unseen- presumably to all of Hell around us.

There’s a rehearsed quality to these words too. Like he’s repeating something he’s said to himself a hundred times. But then he sighs heavily, and the mask slips for just a moment before he leans in to whisper, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

“But then you arrived…and I’d never hoped I was wrong before that moment…” he whispers, static ebbing from his words so that’s it’s only his voice I hear.

“If anyone can be redeemed, it should be you Mon Coeur… you being here? In this place? It’s half convinced me that Charlie’s right and that there truly is an imbalance between realms…” he sighs again and wraps his arms around me with renewed warmth and affection.

His words both melt and break my heart.

How can I tell him that I chose this? That I’m here for not just my sins, but for him…? That I forfeited any right I might have had to count myself among those souls that occupy the floating white orb that hangs high above us even now as we fly through the skies of Hell…I simply can’t.

At least, not right now. Emotion clogs my throat, forming a knot. I do my best to swallow it before I speak.

“I wouldn’t go without you, you know…” I murmur, the emotion in my throat causes my voice to come out like a rasping whisper. It’s as close to the truth as I can bring myself to admit to him in this moment. Alastor barks a humorless laugh.

“If there’s one thing I’m still sure of, it’s that I won’t be among the souls that make it there-” I feel his chin lift from my shoulder and instinctively angle my head upward alongside him.

The two of us stare at Heaven in silence for a moment. It’s as if the sight of the glowing bright white light demands it. The way it hangs in the sky…like it’s simultaneously beckoning us forth while knowing it’s too far for us to ever reach.

“-Even if Charlie succeeds, and that’s a rather large ‘if’ mind you, I know I won’t be among the souls allowed past those pearly gates.” He mutters, turning his head back until I feel his chin resting atop my shoulder once more. I scoff.

“You are still so stubborn…” I mutter under my breath before I can stop myself and Alastor lets out a chuckle.

“Am I, now?” He asks, smug amusement lacing every word.

“Yes, you are.” I say, my tone more matter-of-fact as I speak this time.

“If sinners truly can be redeemed, what makes you think you would be the exception to such a rule?” I ask pointedly, poking at his ego. Sure enough, I feel him straighten slightly behind me.

“Darling, you have heard what all of Hell thinks of me, yes? I’m the strongest sinner in Hell, an overlord who preys on other overlords, The Radio Demon…?” He offers up his titles and epithets like they’re evidence. An unseen scowl scrunches my nose.

“Yes and, arrogance aside, I don’t see where it’s written that The Radio Demon can’t be redeemed…though I suppose it’s not written anywhere that any of us can be redeemed…but that’s beside the point!” I say with a small level of indignation.

“Charlie thinks…we all can be redeemed. And I personally quite like her all or nothing approach…” I add in a softer voice.

I feel Alastor shift behind me once more as his chin settles atop my head I can hear him hum lightly as he tightens his embrace once more.

“‘All or nothing’, hmmm? I suppose there is something admirable about the absolute of it all…” he murmurs before straightening again.

“But I operate best within areas of grey, Dearest…so, if Charlie is capable of making miracles as some of her more distant ancestors, than my wish for you-” he starts before I cut him off.

“Don’t you dare ask me to leave you.” I say, my voice unwavering as I speak. It’s as close to a command I’ve ever given him. I feel his body behind mine jerk slightly in surprise at my tone.

“Dearest…it’s purely hypothetical! I’m only saying that on the off chance- and it’s barely a chance- that you could go to literal Heaven, you should take it…” he says in that confident yet appeasing tone of his.

It’s the voice he used to use when he spoke to investors and producers. A honeyed blend of implied self-deprecation, while painting an image of pure positive outcome for his intended audience.

The thought that he’s trying to sell me on this. That the image he’s painting is one where I’m meant to abandon him, even if it is for Heaven! It’s enough to spark a small ember of rage in my gut. The feeling flames to life in my chest and clouds my mind as I fire back,

“I don’t know what kind of woman you take me for, Alastor, but I am your wife! I would not abandon you here for Satan himself! Not for Heaven or any other promised reward!” I say and to my surprise I feel my canines lengthen in my mouth as I spit the words. My inky skin roils beneath my bandages as I struggle to regain my composure.

I take a deep breath and hold it until I feel my pointed teeth recede and the surface of my inky skin settles. Alastor is silent behind me…though his grip around me hasn’t loosened. Despite the fact that he must have felt the churning of my ink beneath my bandages…

“You wouldn’t leave me here if you had the chance to go to Heaven, would you?” I ask softly, already knowing his answer.

“Of course not, Mon Coeur! I would never-” he begins, but I cut him off again.

“Then please, don’t ask me to do that to you. Not after I’ve only just found you, Alastor! Please…ask me for anything else, but not that…” My voice is a plea and Alastor responds to my request with a sigh and a squeeze around my ribs.

“Very well, Ma Cher. I suppose we shall abide by Charlie’s mindset then…All or nothing…” he murmurs against my hair as Encre begins to descend, back towards the roof of the Hazbin Hotel.

I reach a hand to trace a path down one of his unseen arms until I find his hand with mine. I squeeze as I interlace our fingers.

“All or nothing” I repeat the words like a promise as we land.

To be continued…

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SWEATS SWEATS UMMM, Thank you soooo much especially for the DCA community for being so charming the last couple months I’ve been posting. It’s really been a safe spot to come to after a rough day!!

In celebration of that: I’ll do some paintings in suggestion of y’all. And a fruit basket to go (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)