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arachniee · 2 months

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✰ The Arbiter of Justice.

Ex Situationship! Alastor x Female! Overlord Reader , Vox x Female! Overlord Reader, Lucifer x Female! Overlord Reader

₊˚✩彡 Summary: Famously known as hell's only demon that can break contracts between other sinners, you were very sought after by those who wish to free themselves from the wretched hands of their soul owners, much to the dismay (annoyance) of the other Overlords.

₊˚✩彡Notes: okay so, i know you're probably wondering why this came out faster than the parts of my other series, lets just say that i absolutely despised the first drafts i had and had to redo and edit some stuff again, but hey, here you go (this is not proofread, you have been warned)

╰⪼ “Those fuckers are back!”

Vox yelled, flailing his arms out with each syllable that left his petty mouth. Great. First, he found out that the radio demon was back from whatever hole in hell he's been hiding in for the last 7 years, and second, that bitch in the shadows made her appearance again after a whole decade! God, isn't his life just fucking great.

Valentino wanted to snicker, mock him because of his childishness. But he couldn't, for he too was not pleased with someone's return. Sure, he could live without Alastor, and yeah, he could live with the radio demon around. He didn't really care about him, it was only Vox who hated Alastor so much to obviously express it. But the Arbiter? Valentino would even thank any exorcist who manages to kill her. Though, he knew not to expect anything. Since the Vee’s have never really laid a scratch on her skin, no matter what they did.

“I thought she was gone for good too.”

It's been almost 10 years since she left, leaving the Vee’s to assume (hope) that she'd never return and potentially ruin their status. Ever since her sudden disappearance, they've made it their goal to savour this experience, the feeling of making as many contracts as possible without the restraint from that wretched woman who was dubbed the “Arbiter”.

“Can’t this day get any fucking worse?!”

Vox was fuming, it was very prominent. Of course he'd be angry, a threat has been posed to his business. With the Arbiter’s return, surely he'll lose most of his employees again! And that is NOT happening. And to add to his already boiling anger, the radio demon is back as well. He could feel the temperature of his screen almost overloading, if he doesn't calm down soon, he might even crack his screen.

It was only a matter of time ‘til the word reached Velvette, and they were sure that she would also be displeased with the news. All these deals and contracts they made to build themselves up, climb the ranks, all of these may potentially be snatched away by the Arbiter again in a matter of time. They can't afford for that to happen, not now, not again, not ever.

“The upcoming Overlord meeting… Are you going to attend?”

Valentino asked, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for Vox’s answer. His question was hinting a very obvious thought, with the return of the radio demon and the arbiter, surely almost every Overlord will be present. No, the Arbiter has never really attended the meeting personally, but they always send a shadow in their place. That's the most interaction a person has with her, aside from those who manage to successfully summon her and make a contract with her for her services. So attending the Overlord meeting and speaking with the shadow would be their only way of communicating with her. That is the only way they'll be able to receive some sort of response.

Even with how problematic the Arbiter is for them, little to none is known about her. Every person whom she freed from a contract will always do and say the same thing. Their finger pressing to their lips, a eerily soft smile, and a gentle voice that would speak the words;

“Sh, her shadow might hear you!”

Well, that didn't fill up with any context. It was the same actions and answer, no matter how many times a demon would ask them. Did the Arbiter do something to them? Did they say something? Regardless, it was really frustrating. Especially to those who wanted to gather information about her to bring her down. Ehem, the Vee’s, and maybe a few other Overlords.

───〃★

Ever since your disappearance, Alastor and his dear friends were quite bummed (more so than he'd like to admit). And maybe because of the fact that he may favor you more than the others, who knows? But the pain you unknowingly left in his heart was a feeling he could never forget. A feeling he can’t seem to get himself past. Petty, call it as you will. But the memory you engraved in his mind kept him up all night, every night. You consumed him and his thoughts, especially in his sleep.

Which is why he wanted nothing more than to never sleep again.

Despite him not wanting to acknowledge it, he liked you far more than the rest. And he hated himself for it. No matter how hard he tried to avoid any indication of your presence, you still bled into every crevice and corner of this shitty hell hole. Every corner that touched the light and casted shadows, all of it haunted him.

Everything was so similar to you.

So he left. For the longest time, he tried his very best to forget you, spending his time doing who knows what. It has already been 7 years, before he knew it. He knew it was conflicting, but a part of his wretched soul wondered.

Would you be there on his return?

Most likely not. He hoped that you wouldn’t. But he also hoped to see you, even just once. A single glance at you would’ve made him crumble. The wall that he built to keep romance away, it’ll all come crashing down, without a doubt.

“Alastor? What’s botherin’ you, dear?”

A feminine voice cut through the thick tension in the room, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. Ah, he almost forgot he was in his dear friend’s Emporium. Well, it wasn’t entirely his fault his thoughts wandered off, especially after seeing a picture with a familiar face on it.

“Oh, worry not, Dear Rosie! Nothing a little work can’t handle!’

He assured her, that wide, signature smile of his visibly staring back at the woman. She mirrored it, though she seemed a little less hostile, even with her razor sharp teeth. She had been worried since Alastor left, of course, but what worried her more was how she’d often find him in a daze, seemingly unaware of everything around. Now, in hell, being unaware of your surroundings is the last thing you want. It’s not like she was doubting his strength and power, oh no. But she really can’t help it. She’s often the one taking care of everyone, so naturally, she wants to be there for him out of instinct.

“Well, it certainly doesn’t look like it, Cerf.”

A husky voice piped in, peeking from behind the couch that Rosie and the radio demon sat on. Another figure, who seemingly appeared to be a more masculine version of the Cannibal District’s leader. Same pitch black eyes, pale skin and mop of greyish pink stands. Adorned with a rather lavish suit and a light colored fedora that contrasted Rosie’s more pinkish hat.

“As sharp as always, I see you are!”

“Oh come on, pumpkin! We gotta give Alastor his own personal space, okay? If he doesn’t wanna talk about it then we won’t force him.”

Rosie interrupted, glancing behind her to finally eye the person that the voice belonged to. The previous smile on her face seemed to grow, of course, why wouldn’t it? Looking at her younger brother has always been pleasing to her, especially since they look too much alike.

“I am well aware, my Rosa. Must you always treat me as an unknowing child?”

Her younger brother sighed, momentarily closing his eyes and shaking his head left and right, his greyish pink locks swaying with each movement.

“But my dear, it seems that you are!”

The radio demon replied to his question. This was one of the ways Alastor tried, in hopes of forgetting you. Spending time with his dearest friends was something he cherished, especially with how much he saw that they genuinely cared for him. But it was a bittersweet feeling.

How differently would things be if you were still here?

“Word has it that she has finally returned.”

The same figure from behind the two seated Overlords exclaimed, tone now an octave lower and stirring with an unknowing emotion. Was he trying to be cautious? Or was he trying to not be insensitive towards Alastor’s feelings? Well, whatever the reason, this topic was bound to surface in their conversations anytime soon, so might as well talk about it now.

“My Riose, that is not something you must bring up so suddenly!”

The said young man let out a huff of air, out of amusement or interest, not quite sure. Gosh, he certainly is still like a child in the two Overlords’ eyes. With a shrug, Riose decided to change the topic. Man, he was expecting to hear more stories about the Arbiter, but that can wait another time perhaps. Once the radio demon has fully moved on, he supposed.

Alastor knew you were back, he has connections after all. But he hated how he hoped so much that you’d meet again, after all these years. But that was closer to impossible, to be honest. He’s accepted that fact, not fully, but he’s trying. Trying to move on, trying to forget you.

Though Riose had a feeling that he’d share this stuff with you and tell you about the shit the radio demon has been ranting to him and his sister, and unfortunately, you don’t know if you want to let Alastor go yet.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel

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engie-ivy · 3 years

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Remus Lupin is very young when he joins the Order of the Phoenix to fight in the war. Young, but not naive. He knows that war isn't an exciting adventure with heroic battles, but pain, loss and grief. He has known this ever since his boyfriend was killed by Death Eaters when he was just seventeen years old. It only makes him more determined to fight.

And maybe the things we lose really do have a way of coming back to us in the end.

Wolfstar angst, but with a sappy, happy ending!

Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”

Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

Always meant to come back

The young man, almost a boy really, barely twenty years old, blinks his eyes open. He squints against the bright light in the room, and tries to sit up, but winches in pain and falls back on the bed.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Alastor warns. “We’ve had a Healer patch you up as good as possible, but your body has taken quite a hit, with all those hexes and curses thrown at you.”

“What...” the young man begins to ask.

“You’ll be fine,” Alastor ensures him. “You’re just going to have to take a lot of rest, at least until your wounds have healed. Especially the cuts on your back, probably from a Lashing Hex, may be dangerous if they’ll start bleeding again.”

The young man looks at him for a moment, pale, weary-eyed, with a deep cut on his cheek. “You’re not a Death Eater,” he states.

Alastor laughs shortly. “No, rather the opposite I’d say.”

The young man just looks at him questioningly.

“I’m an Auror,” Alastor clarifies. “Head of the Auror’s office at the Ministry.”

“That can’t be.” The young man shakes his head. “That would mean...”

“You’re safe,” Alastor says.

The young man lets his head fall back on the pillow and closes his eyes, releasing a shaky breath.

After a short silence, Alastor finally asks the question that’s been at the forefront of his mind ever since finding the young man. “You’re Sirius Black, aren’t you?”

The young man opens his eyes again. “Yeah,” he replies.

“Everyone thinks you’ve been dead for at least two years.”

Alastor remembers the story. It was one of the first tragedies of the war. The disowned heir of the house of Black, only seventeen years old at the time, not even graduated from Hogwarts yet, murdered by a group of Death Eaters. The Black family was already high on the list of persons of interest, due to them advocating for blood supremacy and openly supporting He Who Must Not Be Named’s regime. Their eldest son, however, who had already been known as the first Black to not be sorted in Slytherin house, had fallen out with his family and hadn’t been living with them for over a year at the time of the murder. Or, well, alleged murder.

“Two years?” Sirius mumbles. “I don’t know whether it seems like yesterday that I was still living my old life, or whether being at school actually feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe both.”

“What I gathered from the story at the time,” Alastor continues. “Was that a group of students from Slytherin house had purposely leaked information to you that your younger brother was to be sworn in as a Death Eater, and without properly thinking it through, you left to try and stop him and get him away from that evil alignment.”

“I did,” Sirius simply replies.

“That was an idiotic plan,” Alastor says. “Going on your own to a place you knew would be infested with Death Eaters, to save someone you didn’t even know wanted to be saved.”

Sirius huffs a laugh. “You sound just like Moony when he was telling me not to go.”

Alastor doesn’t know what a Moony is, so he just continues. “You never came back. They caught you, or maybe it had all been a trap to begin with, as the Slytherins who spilled the information later all became Death Eaters, and maybe some of them had even already joined at the time. Either way, the word spread that you had been killed by the Death Eaters.”

Hogwarts had been in shock, Alastor remembers. Not only did the death of a schoolmate make the war suddenly seem so much more real, Sirius Black had been bright, promising, loved. It had been a blow to almost the entire school to lose him.

“That’s what happened. Well,” Sirius gestures vaguely at himself. “Except for the being killed part, obviously.”

“Why didn’t they kill you?”

“My irresistible charm?” Sirius attempts with a weak smile. “No,” he then sighs with a pained look in his eyes. “It was my little brother. He said he’d only join their cause if they agreed to let me live. Most of the Death Eaters just wanted to kill us both then, not deeming him very important anyway, but my parents didn’t have a second spare heir ready, so they couldn’t afford to lose another son. They convinced them to imprison me instead of kill me.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s the only time the power and influence of ‘The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black’ did me any good. Although I have often wished they had just killed me. Some of them ignored me, others liked to taunt me, and a few immensely enjoyed hurting me.”

Alastor feels a rare surge of empathy. It was a cruel fate indeed, to be locked up for so long under those conditions, and he had only been seventeen, barely more than a child.

“So how did I end up here?” Sirius asks.

“We placed a Tracing Charm on Goyle, and noticed he was regularly visiting a manor in the countryside, on paper owned by the Rosier family. This made us believe it to be an enemy headquarters, so we planned a raid. We disconnected the house from the Floo Network and placed an anti-apparition charm over the whole premises, before we invaded the place. Unfortunately, the ones present were in possession of illegal Portkeys, I still have to ask Mundungus Fletcher how they could’ve gotten those, and managed to get away. Upon searching the house, though, we found you locked in one of the rooms, severely injured and barely conscious.”

“Of the people I knew, is anyone... Do you know if anyone has been...?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Alastor answers. “To my knowledge, no one from your year at Hogwarts has been killed. I don’t think that there’s anyone you may have known among the victims.”

Sirius lets out a relieved breath. “I didn’t think there was either, as the Death Eaters would have jumped at the opportunity to rub it in my face had they hurt someone I knew, but still.”

“Of course, I don’t know about your brother,” Alastor adds. “As he’s not on our side.”

A flash of pain shows on Sirius’ face for a brief moment, but he quickly composes himself. “I’m sure Regulus is okay,” he mumbles. “If he’d been gone, I would’ve been dead.”

“The Ministry is doing a shite job fighting this war!” Sirius throws down the Daily Prophet on his bed. “Half of the people in this photo is either a traitor or under the Imperius Curse!”

Alastor glances down at the paper. On the front page is an article about Barty Crouch, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and his plan to fight violence with violence and legalise the Unforgivable Curses. The article is accompanied by several photos: Barty Crouch and his family, some other high-placed Ministry officials such as Augustus Rockwood and Walden McNair, and the heads of the influential Mulciber and Malfoy families, who are often thought to influence, or bribe, the Ministry.

Sirius is getting better, and he’s already proven his worth by passing all the valuable information he managed to pick up during his imprisonment on to Alastor.

“And the measures that they’ve been taking are hardly going to be sufficient to win this war,” Sirius adds.

“Well,” Alastor replies calmly. “Considering how corrupt the Ministry is, it’s a good thing they’re not taking more measures.”

“How can you care so little? You’re part of the Ministry, and forced to fight a losing battle.”

“That would be concerning indeed, if it was really the Ministry fighting this battle.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow, prompting Alastor to continue.

“There’s another group that forms the real opposition to He Who Must Not Be Named. A secret order of witches and wizards personally recruited by Dumbledore himself, fighting the Death Eaters behind the scenes.”

“I want to join,” Sirius immediately says.

“What you’ve been true is enough to traumatize someone for a lifetime,” Alastor says. “Are you sure you want to engage yourself even further with this war?”

“Bollocks,” Sirius replies. “I still have great magical skills and abilities, I was the best dueller at Hogwarts and I know better than anyone how these Death Eaters think and operate. You need me. You want me. You don’t give a crap about my emotional state, or you wouldn’t even have mentioned it.”

Alastor supresses a smile. Sirius is right. Alastor is eager to get him on board, but he felt like he had to at least symbolically offer him a way out, never expecting Sirius to actually take it. Truth is, his only goal is to win this war, by whatever means possible, and he doesn’t have it in him to care about an individual’s mental health.

“Very well then. Come to think of it, you might even see some familiar faces.”

“Lily, you look so...”

“Remus Lupin, if your next sentence contains the word ‘big’ or ‘huge’, then in Merlin’s name, I will hex you.”

“Eh... radiant?”

A very pregnant Lily rolls her eyes as she sits on the couch across from Remus. “I’m a bloody whale, I’m completely bloated and I feel like I’m just peeing all day.”

“Isn’t she just glowing?” James appears at Remus’ side, staring at Lily like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, which she probably is.

Remus chuckles. “You’re a very lucky man, Prongs.”

James sits down next to his wife, and Peter sits down next to Remus, while they all wait for the Order meeting to begin. The Prewetts arrive shortly after, and Marlene and Dorcas rush over to Lily to ask her a thousand questions on how she’s feeling. James just stares with an adoring, fond look, while Lily describes in detail how all her bodily functions have changed now she’s so very pregnant.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Peter says.

Remus tries not to show any change in expression, but he can’t help his smile slightly faltering.

Unfortunately, Peter notices. “I mean, of course you know... I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s fine,” Remus says curtly. “Don’t worry about it.” His time of being young and in love is over. Yet, he doesn’t resent James for his happiness, just because his was taken away from him. After all, he knows that for James as well, not a day goes by on which he doesn’t miss him.

Professor McGonagall walks over to Lily to ask her about her due date, and Lily happily informs her that the baby is expected to be born this summer.

“From this September on, you’ll have eleven more years to prepare for Gryffindor’s next trouble maker!” James says.

“James Potter,” Lily scolds. “We agreed to not pressure this child about which house he should sorted into. That already goes into effect before he’s born.”

“Honestly professor,” James whispers too loud to professor McGonagall. “I already love this kid so bloody much. I wouldn’t even mind if he’ll end up in Slytherin!”

McGonagall chuckles. “You know, James, you really don’t have to call me professor anymore.”

James looks absolutely horrified at the idea.

Remus is glad they still see professor McGonagall so often. He doesn’t think he would’ve been able to make it through his last year at Hogwarts without her.

He’s always happy to see her, even though each time it reminds him of that one conversation. At first, he had been angry at him that he had gone anyway, and angry at himself for not realizing that of course he’d go anyway. Then, there had only been the anxious waiting for him to come back, until McGonagall had called Remus, James and Peter into her office and with more distress than he had ever seen her in, told them that he was not going to come back.

James had immediately started crying. Heart-wrenching sobs that went through the bone for the loss of his closest companion, his best friend, his brother. Remus had felt... nothing. It was like he heard the words, understood what the words meant, but did not comprehend what the words implied.

He hadn’t just lost someone he could talk to, someone he could trust, someone he could hold on to. He had lost a small home somewhere on the countryside just outside of London, with large fireplace in the living room and a small shed outside for the motorcycle. He had lost a large garden with an aviary for the owls and enough space for the dogs to run around. He had lost taking time off from working as a teacher and a Healer to spend a few weeks by the coast each summer. He had lost summer evenings in the garden, inviting friends over for a barbecue, a small Quidditch field in the backyard, little children running around. He had lost a future he never thought he could actually have, but had set his heart on anyway.

It took a week. A week of feeling nothing. A week of seeing the worried stares and hearing the constant whispers from his schoolmates. A week before the pain and grief hit him at full force.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Marlene’s voice. “Remember, when Moody gets here, don’t mention the Rosier manor-raid.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, McKinnon. I don’t have a death wish.”

Remus shakes his head. “I can’t even imagine how pissed he must be about it. All that planning, just for each and every Death Eater to get away.”

“He’s gonna be livid,” Marlene agrees. “This is not gonna be a happy meeting.”

“I was so disappointed when I heard it,” Lily sighs. “It felt like we finally had something on them, and now we have to start all over.”

Remus wonders what kind of missions they’re going to assign people to this time. Lily has scolded him before for always volunteering for the most dangerous ones, but to Remus it seems perfectly logical. If he goes, his friends don’t have to go, and he has the least to live for anyway. He said as much one time. James had cried and Lily had yelled at him, so he doesn’t say it anymore. At least not out loud.

It isn’t long before Moody enters the room, looking as battered and grizzled as ever, and commands the meeting to begin. Everyone immediately gathers around the table, as no one, except Dumbledore and McGonagall when it’s absolutely necessary, dares to oppose Alastor Moody.

“Right. We have much to discuss,” Moody says in his growling voice. “First point of order, I’ve gotten confirmation regarding our suspicions about Mulciber, and we should from now on assume that each person working in his vicinity is under the influence of the Imperius Curse and cannot be trusted. Moreover, I received intelligence that Augustus Rockwood, Walden McNair and Barty Crouch Jr. are traitors.”

Everyone sucks in a breath of surprise and disbelief.

“Mr. Crouch’s own son?” McGonagall asks. “An accusation like that can put us in a lot of trouble. Where did you get this kind of intelligence, Alastor?”

“I obtained it from the Rosier manor-raid,” Moody replies, and another wave of surprise goes around the table. No one had expected Moody to bring up the failed attempt himself.

Remus frowns. He has never underestimated the enemy and he knows the Death Eaters aren’t stupid enough to leave a list of names of everyone who’s secretly a traitor. And if they did, it can only be a trap, but Moody must know that better than anyone.

“How?” McGonagall asks, apparently on the same train of thought.

Moody doesn’t look up from his paper, and answers in the most casual manner. “Do you remember Sirius Black?”

Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black? Do you remember Sirius Black. Remus has only ever talked about it with James, as James understood. Not the black hole that Remus’ future had become, but at least the loss, grief and guilt. Apart from that, and some worried enquiries from professor McGonagall from time to time, his friends have been extremely careful not to even mention his name around Remus. Remus had always thought that was rather exaggerated and unnecessary, but now, hearing his name so suddenly, so casually mentioned, he thinks they may have had a point after all. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

James has gotten pale as a sheet and Lily has automatically grabbed his hand, while Peter is throwing worried glances in Remus’ direction. Professor McGonagall has her lips pressed tightly together, and is looking at Moody with a look that clearly says ‘you better have a very good reason for this’.

Moody, completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, just keeps talking. If his previous words had been shocking, it’s nothing compared to the effect his next words produce. “You must have heard of it, I believe some of you were at Hogwarts when the whole ordeal took place. As it turns out, he was actually held captive by the Death Eaters. We found him locked up in the Rosier manor in quite a state, but we managed to patch him up, and he was able to give us quite some valuable information.”

Remus hears the words, but can’t process their meaning. He just stares, waiting for Moody to say ‘just kidding’ or wake up from this dream. Nothing happens for a long moment, until Marlene breaks the silence. “But everyone gave the same account... They all said... How?”

Moody makes a dismissive gesture. “There was some family drama involved I believe. But he can tell you himself in due time. He has agreed to join the Order, actually.”

“You’re lying.” Moody finally looks up at hearing James’ angry tone. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

“Calm down, Potter,” Moody replies. “We can talk about it after the meeting, if we must.”

Remus only realises he has stood up when he notices everyone looking at him. He gives Moody a steely look. “Let me see him.”

“Lupin, we’re in the middle of a meeting. We still have much to discuss.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your damned meeting!” Remus shouts. “Let. Me. See. Him.”

Moody regards him for a moment, and then nods.

Maybe Moody is tricking them as a test. Maybe Moody is delusional and there’s no one there. Maybe someone has tricked Moody and is leading them into a trap. Maybe Moody is under the influence of the Imperius Curse himself and is leading them into a trap. Remus goes over every option in is head as he, James and Lily use the Floo network to go Moody’s safe house. Every option except one. The one he doesn’t allow himself to even think of.

He realises that many option would put them in immediate danger, but he only cares for James and Lily’s sake. If this really is a cruel trick, it’d almost be a relief to be killed right after. Even without allowing himself to hope, he couldn’t handle the disappointment.

But they step into the room, and there he is.

In the living room, fast asleep on the couch, covered by a thin blanket. One hand dangling over the edge of the couch, the other on his stomach, his chest softly going up and down in time with his breathing.

He’s less muscular and a lot thinner than before. His face looks very pale in sharp contrast with his dark, now very long, hair, with a healing cut on his cheek and a receding bruise under his eye.

But it’s him, unmistakably him.

Odd enough, the first thought that occurs to Remus is that he has always wanted Sirius to grow his hair out and that he hopes he doesn’t cut it too soon. At this moment, he seems unable to form any other coherent thought.

Suddenly, he feels James’ hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him forward. “Go to him.”

Remus stumbles forward. He falls down on his knees next to the couch in front of Sirius’ face. He reaches out a trembling hand and touches Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius’ eyes, those eyes nothing can compare to, fly open. Startled, Sirius sits up with a bewildered look. He first sees James and Lily standing there, looking at him.

“Prongs? Evans?”

Then he turns his head towards Remus, and his eyes, filled with emotion, widen.

“Moony?” His voice slightly breaks.

“Hi,” Remus whispers.

Sirius reaches out and gently strokes his thumb over Remus’ cheek. Remus only now realises that there are tears streaming down his face. They stare at each other for a breathless moment. Then, at the same time, they move and wrap each other in an impossibly tight embrace, both whispering unnecessary apologies, as neither thinks there’s anything to forgive the other for.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a stubborn arse, I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t even say goodbye. I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I meant to come back. I always meant to come back.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t come and get you. I’m sorry I never came to bring you home. I gave up on you, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Eventually, James can’t hold back anymore and he flies forward to embrace is brother, and upon seeing him desperately crying, Sirius starts to cry as well.

When he’s more composed, James starts asking Sirius a hundred questions to check if it’s really him. Sirius effectively shuts him up by informing Lily that James stole one of her T-shirts in fifth year and slept with it in his bed for two years.

“I hate you so much, Padfoot! And I missed you more than you’ll ever know, and don’t you ever leave me again!”

This exchange is followed by Sirius going on for ten minutes: “Evans, you’re pregnant. You’re pregnant with a child. Prongs’ child. Evans, you’re pregnant with Prongs’ child. You’re having a baby. Prongs is having a baby. You and Prongs are having a baby. Together. You let Prongs get you pregnant.”

All the while, Remus is still sitting on the ground next to him, their hands firmly clasped together.

Eventually, they have to go back to the Order meeting, and of course want to inform the others. Peter will be ecstatic and professor McGonagall might cry. Lily kisses Sirius on his cheek and James hugs him again, after letting him promise five times that he’ll still be there tomorrow and he’s not going to disappear again.

“You know, Moony, if you want to go to the Order meeting, you’ll have to let go of my hand,” Sirius says with a small smile, without making any attempt of releasing his grip himself.

Remus smiles back. “No, I’m never letting you go again.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #lily evans #jily #alastor moody #first wizarding war #hurt sirius black #james potter is a good friend #wolfstar angst

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bleachanimefan1 · 3 years

Text

Oblitus Part 30

True Colors

36 Days Left Until Extermination...

Anna groaned as she slowly opened her eyes. Her head was pounding like someone was taking a hammer and whacking on her brain. How much did she drink last night? She slowly sat up in the bed. She immediately regretted it as she felt a dull ache on her lower body between her legs. Anna confused as to why she was naked. She pulled the sheets back and her eyes widened seeing the dried blood between her legs as well as numerous bits marks all over her body. She shuddered seeing it also staining the sheets and bed as well. The sheets on her bed had claw marks streaked across them and the mattress. Feathers from her pillows, that were ripped to shreds, were scattered all over the room. She leaned back only to feel that the bed frame was missing and saw that it had been split in half, destroyed.

"What happened last night?" She murmured.

Anna hugged the sheets to her chest, covering herself. "Oh god, please tell me I didn't..." Anna heard the sound of static followed by someone snoring to the left of her. Anna turned her head and her eyes widened in shock to see Alastor. He was naked as well. He had scratches and bite marks all over him as well. She was surprised to see his that his legs were shaped like a deer's bent at an awkward angle, covered in red and white fur. Anna looked down further and she nearly squeaked seeing Alastor's tail slowly waving from side to side while he slept. He's definitely not going to like this but the sooner he finds out the better. Plus, a little payback.

Anna reached out and have a hard pull on Alastor's tail. Alastor's eyes immediately popped open. He froze when he saw Anna next to him covering herself with the blanket.

"Please tell me that we didn't..."

"We did." Anna said. Alastor turned facing his back at Anna. He groaned as he held his head, looking down. Then it really wasn't a dream. The two of them actually did...Alastor wanted to scream but he hit his lip. His hands dug into his hair, gripping it tightly. Oh no....no, no, no, no! This was not supposed happen! Alastor sighed. He had to end this. Even if this was going to hurt her, he had to do it. There was far too much at stake. He can't afford an distraction, right now.

Anna sat silently as she watched Alastor. She felt her heart was about to beat out of her chest. Waiting for him to do or say something, anything. Anything, but silence. This was torture.

"This was a mistake." Anna's eyes widened hearing Alastor spoke. Her breath caught in her chest like she had been punched.

"It doesn't has to be..." She said, quietly. "I mean, we can still make this work."

"What happened last night, didn't happen." Alastor replied. Anna felt like her heart was being crushed. Suddenly, the bed felt it was the right time to give away as one of the legs broke. Alastor and Anna yelled as it fell lopsided.

"So you mean to tell me that you feel nothing for me?" She asked.

"No-" Anna cut him off. She glared at him, furiously. "Then look at me right in the eye and tell me and tell me to my face. That I mean nothing to you."

"Stop it!" Alastor snapped. Anna's eyes widened. "Just stop..." Alastor turned to Anna. He has to end this now. "Give me your hand."

"Why?" Anna asked. Alastor ignored her, and grabbed her hand. A light green glow emitted from their hands and Alastor let go.

"I release you from my contract." Alastor said. "It is over." Anna's eyes widened in shock. She was free? She should be feeling ecstatic but she wasn't. She didn't want it to end. She didn't want to...

"Alastor, you can't really mean that-" Anna stammered. "I love you." That was all she could manage to get out. Alastor's eyes widened as he stared at her with a strained smile. He gripped the sheets tightly with his hand almost tearing more holes into it with his claws. Anna's eyes widened in shock as well at her words. She had finally said it, after wanting to get it out for so long! Then she heard Alastor laugh, like it was funny joke...

"I hate to tell you this, darling." Alastor growled. "But, I don't love you."

He had to leave now. He couldn't stand being in this room any longer. Not with her. Anna eyes widened. Why did this always happen to her? Why does everyone always leave her? She felt her heart growing tighter and tighter. Anna felt her eyes began to sting as tears began to form.

"Get out..." Alastor's eyes widened when he saw Anna get up and grabbed a chair, tossing it at him. Then she started grabbing other various items that she could get a hold of, like books, a hair brush, and his clothes. "Get the hell out of my room!" Quickly, while dodging other flying projectiles being thrown at him, Alastor left not saying another word.

As everyone slept, quietly, Alastor had retreated to Rosie's emporium. He knocked on the door and it opened revealing Rosie who was still up.

"Alastor? It's the middle of the night. Why are you here?" She asked. Alastor let himself in as he walked past her. He slumped into a chair, sitting down.

"Rosie, I don't know what to do. I'm so confused. I've never felt this way before."

Rosie magically fixed some coffee and set a cup on a table in front of Alastor. He took it, drinking it. Rosie took a seat in a chair across from Alastor, sipping on her cup as well.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Alastor growled, setting his cup down, and stood up. He paced across the room. "It's that woman!" Rosie grinned widely.

"The human? What does she have to do with it?"

"Yes! It's her! She's making me feel things that I've never felt for anyone before! Not even in my past life! It's driving me mad everytime I try to think of an answer!" Alastor shouted, frustrated. He looked like a lost fawn. Rosie watched with amusement at his antics then set down her cup. She crossed her arms, with a smug grin on her face. She laughed. Alastor stopped. He turned to her with a strained smile frozen in place.

"You think that this is funny?!" He snapped. Rosie stood up, still with a smug grin on her face, pointing her finger Alastor.

"Why I never thought I'd live to see the day. Hell's radio demon is in love!" Alastor's eyes widened. Rosie smile twisted more. She sighed. "It really is the end of everything."

"What are you talking about, Rosie?" Alastor scoffed. "That's preposterous!"

"Why are you lying to yourself? You can deny it all you want, but you have to come to terms with it eventually. You are in love." Rosie said. "Don't even bother arguing. I'm always right." Alastor sighed. She was. Rosie was always right about everything. Perfect in every way.

"Fine, it's true. I am in love with her." Alastor said.

"There you go! That wasn't so bad was it!" Rosie smiled.

"Isn't there a spell or something that you can make this feeling to away?" Rosie sighed and walked over towards Alastor and hugged him.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid not." Rosie replied. Suddenly, there was loud knock at the door. Rosie and Alastor looked at each other.

"Are expecting anyone else this late?" Alastor asked.

"No." The knocking continued. Rosie walked over towards the door and opened it, standing outside was Lucifer.

"I hope that I'm not interrupting anything?" He said with a wide grin on his face.

"No, I was just about to leave." Alastor said, grinning as he stepped up, walking out of Rosie's home.

"Great! Then we can have a talk along the way!" The king answered, shutting the door on Rosie's face. He and Alastor walked side by side quietly for a while. Lucifer spoke.

"I hope that you're not reconsidering abandoning the plan are you?"

"No, I'm still working on it." Alastor said.

"That's good to hear. However, it is surprising that it's taking a long time for you to do so." Lucifer said. "It wouldn't have to do with that human woman, would it?" He finished now with a scarier grin. Alastor stopped in his place.

"No, you are wrong." Alastor said. "I plan to stop Charlie's redemption plan and you agreed that the hotel will go to me. That is our agreement, is it not?"

"Yes, it is. I'm glad that you haven't changed your mind." Lucifer said, walking away. He laughed evilly. "Otherwise, I would have to declare open season for a couple of deers."

Alastor growled clenching his fists, at the kings threat, watching him walk away.

After a long shower, and cleaning up. Anna wrapped her arms around herself, walking down the hallways, approaching the lobby. She had to get out! Angel was at the bar flirting at Husk when he heard Anna coming closer. He turned around to greet her, only to stop.

"Why to I smell shame and disappointment?" Angel asked. Anna narrowed her eyes at the spider demon, glaring at him. She ignored him, and headed towards the door.

"I'm going out for a bit." Anna murmured.

"Now, hold on. That's not such a good idea." Husk called out, stopping her. Angel and him left the bar, walking towards Anna. "Did something happen? Is it about last night? Did Al do something to ya?" Anna gripped the door handle, tightly. Angel looked at Husk, confused.

"What do you mean by that?" Angel asked. "And what happened to your pretty boyfriend?"

"Chris wasn't what we all expected. It was his fault that Anna's here. Al took care of him. Then her and Al had a little too much to drink last night, so he offered to take Anna back to her room." Husk explained. Angel turned back towards Anna.

"I can tell something's bothering ya, doll face." Angel said. "Turn around and tell us what happened."

Charlie and Vaggie had now walked into the lobby, seeing Anna about to leave.

"Where are you going?" Vaggie questioned.

"I'm going out." Anna replied.

"Why?" Charlie questioned.

"Its none of your business." Anna replied. Charlie frowned, looking at Anna. Why was so angry? What happened? "It is My business. I promised to keep you safe. Now, tell me why are you leaving?"

"BECAUSE I'M GOING TO BE SICK IF I STAY A SINGLE MINUTE HERE!" Anna screamed out loud. Everyone in the room stared at her with wide eyes in shock. Anna turned and opened the door, slamming behind her as she left the group, dumbfounded.

"Anna!?" Charlie called out.

"What the hell?!" Angel shouted.

"Can anyone tell me what the fuck just happened?!" Vaggie growled.

In Pentagram City, the usually crowded streets were now empty as there was no one around. The sounds of Anna's footsteps clacked on the pavement as she walked. Anna looked around seeing not a soul in sight. Anna was knocked back as she had bumped into someone. She frowned and looked up, glaring at whoever it was.

"Can't you watch where you are going?!" She shouted. Her eyes widened in terror and she closed her mouth. Large wings towered over her. She backed away as she felt a cold air brush against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Standing in front of her was a strange being that looked like an angel. The strange horned being turned to her as it glared at Anna through his LED mask with a scary grin.

An exterminator.

"I finally found you..."

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie magne #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel oc #fanfic #fanfiction #exterminator

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syntaxeme · 4 years

Text

Sugar is Sweet (and So Are You) ch.3

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter (coming soon!)] [Read on AO3] [Support me on Ko-fi] Rating: T Summary: Plagued by jealousy toward the men Angel sleeps with, Alastor comes up with a plan to keep Angel from having to work the streets. He wasn’t planning on becoming an actual client, but having Angel all to himself might prove too sweet to give up–for as long as he can afford it, that is.

— — —

Niffty was as apt and eager a sous chef as one could hope for, not only happy to follow directions to a T but intent on keeping their workspace neat at the same time. Concentrating on cooking had the desired effect of keeping Alastor too busy to fret over Angel’s absence (or anything else regarding him), and it wasn’t until around 7, as he was finishing up his cooking, that he was forcibly reminded of those concerns.

“Mm, it smells amazing in here,” Angel called as he entered the room, and Alastor had to force himself not to look back at him. Niffty had already gone off to set things up in the second floor ballroom, so they were alone in the kitchen. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Etouffee and rice. Blackened snapper filets. Maque choux.” He indicated each dish on the stove and counter respectively. “Though that has tasso in it, so someone who isn’t comfortable eating pork should probably avoid it.” It was still somewhat amusing that Angel eschewed pork products purely because he had a pet pig, while Alastor himself had never been squeamish about meat from any source. To each his own, he supposed.

“Shit, you musta been at it for hours, then.” The spider came over to lean against the counter at his side and leaned toward the pan of etouffee Alastor was stirring with a wooden spoon, opening his mouth expectantly. “Aah…”

The Radio Demon’s eyes narrowed, and instead of complying, he used his free hand to push Angel’s chin upward and close his mouth again. “You’ll be able to try it when everyone else does. Assuming you didn’t have dinner while you were out.”

“Aw, c’mon, I don’t get any special treatment? Are ya mad at me or somethin’?”

“Where have you been?” Alastor asked, ignoring the question, then added, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Ooh, you are mad. Ya gonna punish me?” Angel purred. When he saw that Alastor’s expression was utterly devoid of amusement, he sighed and shook his head. “Take a better look at me and see if ya can’t guess.” Posing against the edge of the counter, he ran one hand through his hair (which Alastor now noticed had been styled and formed into loose curls) and used the lower pair to smooth the magenta dress he was wearing (a daring halter number that covered his chest but bared his shoulders—not a familiar part of his existing wardrobe). His nails were painted to match, and the shoes looked new as well.

“You went…shopping?”

“Among other things. Just a little self-care day, a little pampering. Because I deserve it. Don’t I, Daddy?” he concluded with a playful smirk that said there was only one correct answer.

“I suppose.” Alastor wasn’t sure what it was about that new title Angel had given him that flustered him so. It wasn’t any sort of disconcerting Freudian paraphilia, he was sure. Maybe it was the way Angel said it, as an indication of familiarity and the role he’d been cast in this relationship. An admission of authority. It made him feel…powerful. Powerful in a way he wasn’t used to feeling.

“What’d you think, I was runnin’ off to meet some other guy?” Angel asked, hitting the nail exactly on the head. “Why should I when you already said you’re takin’ care of me? I wouldn’t’ve figured you were the kinda guy to get jealous that easily, but it’s sweet you wanna keep me to yourself.”

You have no idea. “And the woman you were with?” the Radio Demon prompted, finally deciding that his etouffee was ready to be served and taking it off the heat. As he was arranging the various dishes on a catering trolley to take them upstairs, he continued, “The one who pulled you out of your meeting with Charlie for all this?”

“She’s my manager. Or she was, I guess. I told her about this”—Angel gestured between the two of them—“earlier, and she wanted the details. Then I was already out, I had some cash to burn, and I figured I should show ya what you’re payin’ for here.” As Alastor was rolling his sleeves back down and readjusting his cuffs, Angel stepped in close to drape his arms over the Radio Demon’s shoulders. He also caught Alastor’s hands to pull them around his own waist, drawing their bodies close together and demanding his attention. “So, you like? Or should I be tryin’ harder?” If he tried much harder, Alastor’s poor heart was likely to give out from overexertion.

“You do look nice, cher,” he confessed, allowing his hands to rest tentatively on Angel’s back and forcibly withholding his full opinion on the subject—that he enjoyed the idea of Angel getting dolled up to impress him, that he loved knowing his support had bought the spider a few hours’ indulgence, that he was terribly tempted to blow off the dinner he was supposed to be serving and spend the time alone with Angel instead.

“Look all ya want, honey.” As he leaned in for a kiss, the tension in Alastor’s body only heightened, but he forced himself not to retreat (or maybe he was so deer-in-headlights frozen that he couldn’t have fled if he’d wanted to). As much as he wanted what Angel was offering, he was equally afraid of embarrassing himself with his inexperience.

“Alastor, do you need—oh!” Just as he’d gathered his courage and tilted his head upward to meet Angel’s lips, Niffty’s voice rang through the kitchen. He reflexively stepped back at the sound, breaking the spider’s hold on him and leaving about two feet’s distance between them.

“What was that, dear?” he asked, unsure whether the smile he flashed her was intended to intimidate or reassure. It made little difference, as she was pointedly avoiding looking at him, her cheeks flushed.

“Uh, everything’s ready upstairs. I came to see if you need any help taking stuff up.”

“No. Thank you. Go on ahead and we’ll be up shortly.” She wasn’t eager to argue and zipped out of the room as quickly as she’d appeared, leaving Alastor to clear his throat awkwardly as he swept his jacket back on.

“Why does it bother you if the others know?” Angel asked, strolling along behind Alastor as he pushed the trolley out of the kitchen and toward the elevator. He didn’t seem offended, just curious, likely because he himself had no issue about being open with his sexual dealings.

“I don’t know that it bothers me, per se. But whatever goes on between you and me is none of their affair.” Especially Charlie.

“Sure, I guess, but it still seems kinda shitty to hafta act different just because someone else is around.” When Alastor didn’t answer right away, Angel quickly went on, “I mean, at the end of the day, it’s whatever you want. Just knowin’ you, I woulda figured you wouldn’t care what anybody else thought of it.”

When they got to the ballroom, true to Charlie’s word, everyone was gathered already, hovering around the handful of tables scattered throughout the room and sipping cocktails (provided by Husk, who had set up a sort of half bar by the door). Luckily, Alastor’s cooking experience in life had given him plenty of experience with serving large groups, so this was nothing he couldn’t handle. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting; I’m sure you’re all starved by now!”

“Nope, you’re just in time.” Charlie sidled up to him as he was setting out the dishes along the banquet tables lining the far wall. “I can’t blame you if you got a little distracted.” She nodded heavily toward Angel, who had been crowded by a few of their female patrons all ooh-ing and aah-ing over his outfit.

“What, this old thing?” he purred, posing deliberately and beaming from the attention. His smile was one of the first things the Radio Demon had come to admire about him, and knowing he himself had caused it was even more satisfying. Angel was beautiful; there was no denying that. So why, Alastor wondered, should he even bother trying?

“Yes, maybe I was,” he agreed with Charlie’s statement as he finished up setting out the spread. He ignored her wide eyes and delighted grin as he swept the trolley to one side and gestured to the table with a flourish. “Well, here we are! There should be plenty for everyone, so don’t be shy.”

Dinner didn’t go exactly the way he’d expected. He and Angel shared a table with Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, and Husk, and although the conversation was the sort typical of the group, he couldn’t help feeling Angel was paying him more attention than usual. Of course, ever since the hotel’s opening, the two had developed a certain chemistry, a sort of quick-fire volley of snarky comments and clever comebacks, but it felt softer on this particular evening. Different. And Alastor found he didn’t mind it.

He still hesitated and drew away when Angel got overtly affectionate—stroking lightly along his hand, leaning close to speak into his ear, playfully toying with his hair—but it was more for his own comfort than out of concern about what anyone else might think. Angel was right in saying that their opinions shouldn’t matter, and if it meant Alastor didn’t have to deliberately maintain his distance, he didn’t mind dealing with their curious glances and whispers.

When everyone had eaten their fill, the other patrons dispersed gradually until only the hotel’s staff was left in the ballroom, chatting long past dark. Husk was the first one to retire, followed soon by Vaggie gently leading a somewhat tipsy Charlie toward the doors as well.

“Wait, wait,” Charlie insisted, “shouldn’t we help clean up?”

“Nope!” Niffty answered cheerfully, waving her onward. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry!” In fact, she was already up and starting to gather plates, apparently no less energetic after dinner and drinks—or at least not enough to keep her from happily working.

“I suppose we’ll leave you to it, then,” Alastor agreed, getting to his feet as well. Angel followed along without prompting.

“Y’know,” he started as they took the stairs to the third floor, where Alastor’s room was located, “you’re a pretty good cook, Al. But I think that meal was missin’ somethin’.”

“Oh? What’s that?” The notion was actually a bit insulting.

“Don’t get me wrong; you make a helluva dinner. But”—he caught Alastor’s hand as they reached the door labeled 313—“now I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet. So what’s for dessert?”

In literal terms, Alastor had never cared much for overly sweet things. Somehow, he got the feeling Angel wasn’t talking about beignets. He froze up for a moment, having failed to consider this aspect of the evening. Of course, it was only logical that Angel’s newly affectionate attitude toward him would include an offer like this, based on his usual interactions with clients.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he answered. “I’m typically not much for sweets.”

Angel hesitated, tilting his head to one side, then his expression changed. Pouting slightly, he ran a hand through his hair to loosen his curls a little more. “But you can make an exception for me, right? I’ll get so cold up in my room all by myself, Daddy,” he whined, batting his eyes, looking strangely smaller and more fragile than usual. Raising Alastor’s hand up to his cheek and nuzzling against it, he suggested, “Lemme sleep here with you instead.”

Alastor didn’t respond right away. Although he wanted to believe that Angel had a genuine desire to be near him, something about this proposition felt artificial, almost like a game, like he was putting on an act for Alastor’s benefit. And if that was the case, he had no interest in it. He wanted Angel’s genuine self, the confident, assertive, clever individual he’d come to know and enjoy, not whatever persona he put on to please his clients.

“If you want to be here, cher, then by all means, stay. If you’re offering purely for my benefit, however, you can go back to your own room,” he said plainly, and Angel frowned.

“I dunno what that means,” he sighed, crossing both pairs of arms. Even in his irritation, he seemed more like himself, which was an improvement. “D’you not get how this works? You’re takin’ care of me, so I’ll take care of you. I don’t like to welch on a deal, but you gotta tell me what ya want if I’m gonna do it.” The prospect of being ‘taken care of’ by Angel, even if not in the way he had in mind, was immensely appealing. But only if there was a good reason behind it.

“I just did. I’m paying for your time so that you can choose what to do with it. If you’d like to stay, that’s fine. In fact, I think I would like you to,” he confessed, his gaze lingering somewhere around Angel’s right shoulder so their eyes wouldn’t meet. “But if you see this as a professional obligation, if you’re only doing it because I’m paying you, let me say that you have no need to. I don’t want you to make it a chore to be around me.”

The sound Angel let out was sort of a laugh, sort of a scoff, sort of dismissive and uncomfortable at the same time. “C’mon, Al, we both know what this is; ya don’t hafta feel guilty about it. You paid already, so whatever ya want from me is yours fair and square. This is what I do. It ain’t a big deal.”

Yes, that’s what I was afraid of. Refusing to let his smile slip or otherwise betray how much the statement bothered him, Alastor instead answered, “Good night, Angel.”

The spider stood by in silence while Alastor turned to unlock the room and step inside, but when he tried to shut the door, Angel caught it with two hands to stop him. With a note of something almost like guilt in his voice, he conceded very quietly, “I wanna stay.”

Although it was difficult to believe given the sadness on his face, Alastor found himself a bit shaken by seeing Angel so uncomfortable. Continuing to argue just wasn’t worth upsetting him more. So he took a step back out of the doorway and motioned for Angel to come inside, gesturing absently at the lamp in the corner so it flickered to life and bathed the room in dim red light.

Angel shivered as he crossed the threshold, lending some credence to his excuse of being cold, and his gait was noticeably less self-assured than usual as he made his way across the room to Alastor’s bed. Another moment’s hesitation, and he gestured to the bed. “Can I…?”

“Of course.” Alastor concentrated on shrugging out of his coat and removing his shoes and tie as Angel sat on the bed and toed his own shoes off, then crawled onto the mattress on all fours, coming over to meet Alastor where he stood at the other side.

Sitting up on his knees, sliding the edge of his dress up slightly, he asked, “You wanna help me outta this?”

Oh. Somehow, Alastor had failed to realize that in allowing Angel to stay the night, he was agreeing to something more than just enjoying his company. But at this point, it seemed too late to change his mind.

It took a moment for him to compose himself enough to form a response. “If you like.” His hands came to rest on Angel’s hips, only shaking slightly, and slid slowly downward to the skirt’s hemline, where he froze up again. Angel must have noticed his hesitation, as he tried to smooth the process by leaning in for a kiss. It was quick and soft, as if inviting Alastor to take more if he wanted. And he did.

Since this was something he felt much more comfortable exploring, he focused all his attention on it, capturing Angel’s lips with his own more firmly this time. It felt surprisingly natural to slip his tongue into the spider’s mouth, and the breathless moan Angel let out only encouraged him further. He did have a taste, Alastor found, but it wasn’t actually sweet. Enjoyable nevertheless. Every aspect of this experience was so foreign and fascinating, from the softness of Angel’s chest pressed against his to the heat of his mouth to his hands grasping at Alastor’s shoulders. He tried to pull away at least two separate times before Alastor realized that he should let go. As Angel was catching his breath, the Radio Demon realized he’d been so absorbed in the kiss that he hadn’t noticed deft hands unbuttoning his shirt, and he hastened to close it up again.

“Are you gonna…get in bed with me or what?” Angel managed, collapsing to sit and still panting softly, open-mouthed. The position he was in, long legs folded against the bed, forced his skirt even higher up his thighs. Alastor was utterly beside himself, torn in a way he’d never been before.

He had no idea what he wanted out of this moment. No, that was wrong; the problem was that he had entirely too many ideas. Part of him wanted to pin Angel to the bed and keep his mouth thoroughly occupied for the next hour. Part of him wanted to tear that dress off him and explore every inch of bare skin with his eyes, his hands, his lips. Part of him wanted to pretend he had no anxiety about this matter and spend the rest of the night satisfying his many curiosities about how it might feel to share that kind of intimacy with Angel.

Yet another very loud part was insisting that all the other parts were insane, that allowing anyone that close was asking for trouble, and that the best recourse was simply to throw the spider out, lock the door, and pretend none of this had ever happened. His mind was giving so many imperative all at once that it was impossible to choose which to act on.

“Al?” When Angel’s hand found his arm, he was so high-strung that he immediately jerked away from the touch, reeling back a step or two and struggling to get a hold of himself before he said or did anything he’d regret. Worst of all, Angel looked confused, guilty, even worried about him. “You okay?”

“Yes. No. I—” He let out an entirely mirthless laugh, simply because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. “I’m sorry. You…maybe you should…go.” It was stupid of him to have expected that he could change his stripes, so to speak, that easily. He knew what he was. He knew it didn’t lend itself well to affection of any sort. No one should be forced to put up with that, especially not one of the few people Alastor genuinely cared for.

“Go? But I thought… I mean, did I do somethin’ wrong?” Angel asked, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed but mercifully not making any move to touch him. “I dunno what happened.”

“Nothing. It’s not you.” There he was, making an absolute fool of himself, just as he’d feared. But at the same time, it wasn’t right to make Angel feel as if he were in the wrong. It took all Alastor’s effort to force himself to keep smiling as he continued, “I’m sorry, cher. I’ve never…done this before.”

“What, paid for sex?” Angel laughed, and although it didn’t seem ridiculing, it didn’t help, either. When Alastor didn’t respond, he quickly sobered and realized: “Oh, y’mean you’ve never…at all? Uh, shit, I just figured—hey, it’s fine, though! I been with virgins before; it ain’t a big deal. We can take it slow if ya want.” Somehow, although they were probably meant to be reassuring, the words did nothing to ease Alastor’s anxiety.

“That’s probably for the best.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want to try. Eventually. He was always interested in a new experience, and he did want to be close to Angel. But this evening had already made it quite clear that he had some mental blocks to work around before anything like that would be possible. “I don’t mean to make this difficult for you. I’m sure you were expecting—”

“Alastor.” Angel leaned his head down to catch the Radio Demon’s gaze (which was directed toward the floor), and although his smile was much softer than the wicked grin he usually wore, it still felt genuine. “It’s fine. You’re payin’ for my time and my company, but it’s up to you what you wanna do with it. If ya wanna fuck me, I’m up for it. If ya wanna kiss me again and then see where it goes, I’m fine with that too. If ya just want me to sleep here, I can.” After a moment’s hesitation and with somewhat dampened enthusiasm, he added, “Hell, if ya want me to leave ya alone and go to my own room—”

“I don’t,” Alastor answered quickly, “want that.”

Angel seemed pleased with the concession. “Point is, it’s up to you. Whatever you pick is fine by me. So don’t worry too much about what I ‘expect.’ I’d rather be here with you than off at some shithole motel with a john I can’t trust.”

Meaning he trusts me? That notion made Alastor feel a million times better about the night, all awkwardness and uncertainty included. At the same time, Angel’s assurance that he was in control of their interaction was an immense comfort in itself. Maybe these feelings—comfort, control, confidence—were what he was actually paying for.

Feeling at least somewhat steadier now, he seated himself on the bed next to Angel and leaned in to kiss his cheek, causing his slight smile to widen into something more playful. ‘Something sweet’ indeed. “I do want you to stay the night, ma sucrette. And I wouldn’t say no to more of those kisses.”

“Sucrette? What’s that?”

Tilting Angel’s chin upward and running a thumb lightly across his lips, Alastor replied, “Why, it’s you, sweetness.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but it certainly looked like Angel was blushing as they settled into bed.

Charming.

He moved close under the covers to put himself in Alastor’s arms, and after a moment of figuring out how their bodies fit together in an embrace, there was another kiss. And another. Knowing he wasn’t expected to go any further made it easier for Alastor to relax and enjoy their nearness for what it was. And there was no shortage of things to enjoy about it. He looked forward to discovering and further exploring each one in the days to come.

#Angel Dust x Alastor #Alastor x Angel Dust #Sugar is Sweet #fanfiction #my writing #HH Angel Dust #HH Alastor #radiodust

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cwartsyswritingblog · 5 years

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It’s The Thought That Count’s: Part Three.

While they waited for Molly, Baxter and Alastor sat huddled up together at the end of Baxter’s bed. Alastor had looked so unsure of himself since that phone call ended. He just sat by Baxter’s side and held him as if he didn’t know what else to do. It was worrying to see him like this and Baxter also found that he couldn’t do anything more than hug his partner and hold him until Molly came.

Time seemed to pause in that moment and nothing existed to Baxter except for his poor, worried partner.

A knock at the door snapped them both back into reality. Alastor went to answer it and in came molly. Still in her pyjamas and sporting quite an impressive bed head. The only thing indicating she was a medical professional was the stethoscope protruding slightly out of the open bag she must have hastily thrown it into.

“You should have phoned me, dumbass.” Molly sighed to Baxter as he entered his room.

Baxter gave her a weak smile as Alastor went straight back to his side and resumed his dutiful position as Baxter’s cuddle dispenser. Molly looked at them as if they were a pair of snuggling puppies, which was pretty embarrassing for Baxter. But nowhere near embarrassing enough to stop him from putting his arms around Alastor.

But of course, he had to let go so Molly could check him over properly. Which he did with great reluctance.

Molly took his temperature, checked his breathing and the state of his throat. All of which were standard of a medical check-up for his illness. But when she started checking his heartbeat and his pulse, he knew something was up. These things weren’t of any necessity and Molly was professional enough to know this. The only reason Baxter could think of for Molly’s sudden over thoroughness was that she was doing this for show to make Alastor feel better. Baxter could not have been more thankful for Molly’s good thinking.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him.

“Apart from the blood and tiredness, not too bad.” he answered in total honesty.

“Did you get any sleep while I was gone?” Alastor cut in.

“I tried to,” Baxter told him truthfully, “But I had the same problems I did before and then when I started coughing up blood, I couldn’t get back to sleep at all.”

Baxter didn’t realise how thoughtless he had been saying that until he saw Alastor’s face. The poor thing looked pained with guilt.

“I could have phoned you at any time.” Baxter reminded him, “I just chose not to. Silly, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was.” Alastor said, “I don’t know what to do with you sometimes”.

“He’s a terrible patient, isn’t he?” commented Molly.

“The worst.” Alastor agreed.

“Hey now.” Baxter defended, “I haven’t been that bad today, have I?

“No.” Alastor agreed with narrowed eyes, “Not after I caught you sneaking off to work.”

He shook his head and said to Molly, “He’d drop dead without me, I swear. He treats himself like a machine.”

Hearing these words only added to the pang of guilt that kept stabbing at Baxter from inside his chest. He was still used to his decisions affecting himself and only himself. It never felt any better when he was reminded that wasn’t the case anymore. Cuddling up to Alastor once more was his way of saying sorry for his lack of consideration.

“Besides from coughing up blood, have you been experiencing any other new symptoms?” Molly asked.

“No. None at all.” He answered.

“How are you on pain?” She asked him another question. It went without saying that this one was of great interest to Alastor.

“It’s come and gone but overall, it hasn’t been too bad.” Baxter said, “As of yet, I haven’t felt the need to take any medication.”

Molly seemed satisfied with the information she had gathered. “Everything seems to be normal, chest infection wise.” She said in a conclusion that was much more aimed towards Alastor than it was Baxter as she reached for something in her bag.

“I think we can both agree that you’re not in a bad enough condition to need these. But I’ll leave them with you just in case you get worse.” She said to Baxter, handing him a box of pills. Which turned out, as Baxter expected, to be amoxicillin 500mg.

“That’s about all I can do for him.” She said to Alastor, “I’d say take care of him but I know you will.”

“And as for you,” She turned to Baxter, “rest and let me know how you are tomorrow. I gotta get going”.

Baxter thanked her for everything and almost said goodbye but questioned the point. Even though she had done all she could and there was no more reason for her to be here, she probably wasn’t going right now. Not if Alastor had anything to say about it. He looked at his partner. As he predicted, Alastor was appalled by the briefness of Molly’s visit.

“But what about the blood?” He protested, “Can’t we do anything about that?”

“That will clear up on its own, Alastor. Like everything else.” Baxter told him gently.

“He’s right.” Molly confirmed, “He’ll get better by himself, Al. You’ll see. ”

Alastor wasn’t entirely convinced, “You said that medicine you gave him is for if he gets worse but surely, there’s something we can give him now?”

Then Alastor’s eyes lit up as if he just remembered something. He darted towards the other shopping bag he brought in. Of which, the contents were still unknown to Baxter. He fished some items out of it and promptly brought them to Baxter.

“Here, darl.” he said, handing him a cough medicine and a spoon. He probably got the spoon from the kitchens but Baxter wouldn’t put it past his partner that he’d bought it while out for this specific purpose “Take some of this. That’ll help, right?”

“You are good to me.” Baxter praised before breaking the reality to him, “But Medicine isn’t going to help me recover any faster. Especially not cough medicine. As good as it was of you to get it for me, the coughing I’m experiencing is actually helping me clear the infection. All I need are the painkillers and the Amoxicillin if I get worse.”

“Oh.” Alastor said disheartened, “I got you some stuff for your throat too. Would that help?”

“Oh yes. Definitely.” Baxter said immediately. Hoping the knowledge that Alastor had indeed got him something useful would make him feel better.

It did but sadly, only slightly. He went back to where the bag was and retrieved everything else he had gotten to help Baxter with his illness. Apparently, Alastor hadn’t been sure which brand of throat sweets would work the best, so he bought the lot. That would explain why Baxter now had a dozen different brands of sweets to choose from. He had also gotten him tea with honey and lemons to go with it.

“There was a lot of stuff labelled honey and lemon in packets but I figured the real stuff would work better.” Alastor explained.

“How thoughtful.” Molly complimented.

“He has been marvellous.” Baxter said, “You should see all the other things he got for me and what he made for me earlier.”

He then told Molly all about everything Alastor had done for him thus far. Molly found it all to be impressive and adorably sweet so he encouraged her to talk about it like mad. He thought all the compliments and praise would do Alastor’s esteem wonders but when he turned to his beloved partner, he was sorry to see that he looked just as uncertain and anxious as he had when he called Molly to come over.

“Alastor” he soothed, taking his partner’s hand, “I can see you’re still worried about me but there really is no need to be. If there was anything seriously wrong with me, Molly would know right away. I would know right away. I know I’m ill but I’m not suffering. I’m not even in that much pain and I am going to be better very soon. I’m going to be just fine.”

At last, Alastor was looking a little happier. He smiled for the first time since he found out Baxter was coughing up blood. But of course, Baxter had to go and mess it all up.

“In fact. From the way I’m feeling right now, I’m certain I will be able to go back to work tomorrow.”

Alastor looked at Baxter as if he was mad.

“Yeah.” Molly agreed with a smile, “If you get enough rest today, I don’t see why you can’t come back in tomorrow.”

But when Molly was unfortunate enough to get a glance at the look on Alastor’s face, she immediately rephrased herself. No hypnosis needed. His glare was more than enough to do the job.

“Or,” She said nervously, “if Bax is still ill then maybe, three days?

Alastor clung to Baxter and pulled him behind him as if he thought he was going to be snatched away at any moment. “Three days?” He cried out stupefied “He’s coughing up blood! He’s not going anywhere until that stops.”

“That might not be for another week, Alastor.” Baxter told him gently, “I can’t afford to take that much time off work.”

“You can’t help being ill, Baxter.” Alastor proclaimed, “Molly will just have to manage. You can manage, can’t you?”

“Yeah, but only for so long.” Molly said, “It’s been getting really busy lately, even more than usual. I can’t remember the last time we’ve had a slow day.”

“That’s because we’ve never had a slow day.” Baxter corrected, “At least not since the hotel took off anyway”.

“Exactly.” Molly said, “And I’m definitely going to need you over the weekend.”

“But of course.” Baxter said in empathy, “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you to face the nightlife nightmare alone.”

“I think I’d rather risk life and limb trying to haul you away from Al.” she chuckled light-heartedly to herself before getting serious, “Seriously though, Al. It’s obvious seeing Baxter cough up blood scared you but he really his going to be fine. It’s likely that he’ll stop in a few days and then he’ll get better from there.”

Alastor didn’t answer. He just kept clinging on to Baxter

“I’ll tell you what.” Molly compromised, “I’ll let you take care of him for five days. In that time, you should start seeing improvements in his health. That’ll make you feel better, won’t it?”

“But Molly,” Baxter objected, “That’s not fair on you”.

Molly didn’t say anything back. She just looked at him and then at Alastor. Making him follow her eyes up to meet his partner’s. He saw how relieved and grateful Alastor looked and he couldn’t protest any further. He just wrapped his arms around him and mouthed at Molly, “Thank you.”

She gave him a warm smile in return and went on with her discussion with Alastor as if their interaction hadn’t happened. As if it was a secret between them.

“But after those five days, Al, I’m going to have to start fighting for him.”

“Good luck.” Alastor said to her jokingly.

“Thanks. I’ll need it.” she joked back.

It was good fun to see Alastor and Molly share a moment of silliness. But it crossed Baxter’s mind that there wasn’t much time left until Molly’s shift started. He wondered how much time there was to go. Apparently Molly wondered the same thing. Because in that exact same moment, she took a glance at Baxter’s alarm clock and jumped back when she read the time.

“And it’s half seven and I am nowhere near ready.” She said, making a swift exit, “Now I’ve really got to go. I’ll see you two later. Any problems call me.”

They all exchanged goodbyes and just like that, Molly was gone. When she shut the door behind her, the sound echoed through the room and then it suddenly became dead quiet. Now that it was just the two of them, the silence was overbearing to the point where Baxter started noticing sounds he never noticed. Like the water in the radiator or the breezy whirring of the electrics in his mini fridge. He felt like he should break the silence but he didn’t quite know how, and he guessed that Alastor had the same problem. Neither of them were sure of what to say to the other.

With their communication struggling, they found themselves returning to as they were when they were waiting for Molly to arrive. Alastor held Baxter as tight as he could without cutting off his air supply and rested his chin on Baxter’s shoulder. Baxter was too short to reach the top of Alastor’s shoulder, so he settled on leaning into his chest. Listening to his heart beat.

It was clear to Baxter that Alastor was still shaken up. He had to do something. His partner needed something that would make his fear go away. Or at the very least, distract him from it. He thought back to the events of this morning and remembered how happy Alastor was seeing him react to everything he had done for him. Of course. The other bag was still stuffed with purchases, it was a solution in plain sight.

“What else is in that bag you brought back?” He casually asked his lover.

“Nothing important.” Alastor said.

“Oh, come on now.” Baxter insisted, “Everything you got for me today, you got to make my day as comfortable and pleasant as possible. That is important to me, Alastor. It shows me just how much you care.”

All Baxter got from Alastor in response was painful silence.

“Look. I really hope you don’t feel guilty for being out and getting me all these lovely things while a nasty symptom of my infection just so happened to pop up. I was fine.”

“You must have been frightened.” Alastor lamented, “And thanks to me, you were all alone, trapped and in the dark.”

“You didn’t know what was happening!” Baxter consoled, “And when it was happening, I knew you were just a phone call away. All I had to do was give you a call and you’d be there. But I chose not to because I wanted to spare you from stress. I thought that If I could keep you from knowing about the blood until Molly got here and could confirm that I was going to be alright, maybe you wouldn’t worry so. But it all went wrong and I just ended up making things worse, didn’t I?”

Alastor gripped Baxter by the shoulders and pushed him out of his embrace so that he could face him. He opened his mouth and strangled sounds of protest came out but no actual words formed. Baxter couldn’t possibly guess every word he was trying to say but clearly, he strongly disagreed with something Baxter had said.

“You don’t think I should be blaming myself, do you?” he guessed with confidence.

“No!” Alastor finally managed to blurt out.

“I don’t think this is a situation where either of us can be blamed.” Baxter addressed, “But all the same, I’ll try to be more honest with you from now on. If anything like this happens again, I’ll let you know. I promise.”

Baxter was ecstatic when he saw a small smile spread across Alastor’s face. At last he was getting somewhere with him.

“Alright.” he said giving Baxter a small kiss, “Wait here a moment.”

He went over to the remaining shopping bag and retrieved its contents.

“I’m afraid this one isn’t as exciting as the other one.” He said sheepishly, “It’s mostly just tea. I got you the ones I know you like and some I thought you might.”

Baxter hadn’t expected Alastor to be subtle here. Obviously not, subtlety was something Alastor just did not do. But he still managed to surprise Baxter when he saw him come back towards him with his arms loaded with god only knew how many different types of tea.

“Were there any you didn’t buy?” He laughed out of shock.

“Not really.” Alastor admitted with another small smile.

It was clear that Alastor’s little shopping trip had been made entirely with Baxter in mind. But Baxter suspected without an ounce of judgement his partner thought of himself just a little bit when he bought all this. He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot at the thought of Alastor’s excitement upon discovering so many new varieties of tea to try. He would loved to have seen that for himself. Baxter may have liked tea quite a bit but Alastor adored it.

Baxter spotted the ones he liked, classic, green and chamomile and again, he was flattered Alastor had remembered his favourites. But what really caught his eye were the ones he had bought for him to try. Jasmine, mint green, peppermint, green tea with pomegranate, gingerbread and even Bakewell tart. How on earth Alastor had managed to find a box of Bakewell tart flavoured tea, Baxter didn’t know.

“These all look fantastic.” he gave his partner some much needed praise, “I can’t drink too many hot drinks when I’ve got this infection but even so, I’m looking forward to trying all these. Thank you, darling.”

“I’ll make you a cup now, if you want.” Alastor offered.

“Thank you, Alastor. That would be lovely.” Baxter gratefully accepted, “Now then. Which one to try first? I feel like I should have the normal one with honey and lemon to help my throat but I’m curious to try the flavoured ones. Especially the;”

“Bakewell tart?” Alastor guessed.

“The Bakewell tart.” Baxter nodded.

“I got you some actual Bakewell tarts too.” Alastor announced retrieving two boxes of them from the bag, “And as a very special treat because you’re sick, don’t get used to it, I got you this.”

Baxter was then stunned when Alastor placed a pot of caramel coffee in his hand. It was a small pot, and instant but nevertheless;

“You got me coffee?” he marvelled, “Real coffee?”

He inspected the label and sure enough, it wasn’t decaf.

“But you can’t stand me drinking coffee.” he said flabbergasted.

“I’m advised that one cup a day can’t harm you.” Alastor said, “But just because I bought you some, don’t think I’m going to let you go back to getting through four entire pots a day.”

“Never again, love.” he promised and meant every word.

“I hope so.” Alastor said, “How is your throat? Is it really hurting?”

“It is getting a bit difficult to swallow.” Baxter admitted, popping a cherry Soother into his mouth.

Alastor nodded in acknowledgement. “How about ordinary tea with honey and lemon for you, chamomile for me and we’ll share a cup of Bakewell. Just to try it?” he suggested.

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Baxter agreed.

Alastor had the teas made in the time it takes to boil a kettle and slice up a lemon. With a scalpel due to the lack of knives in the room.

While he did this, Baxter thought about opening one of the boxes of Bakewell tarts. But it just seemed odd to have them with the same thing in the form of flavoured tea. So, he opted to dig out some fruit and chocolate out of the first bag instead. Choosing the strawberries and the Turkish delight filled bar of Cadbury’s chocolate, knowing how much Alastor loved the stuff.

Alastor used the same tray he’d carried breakfast on to serve the teas and with the fruit and chocolate, it all looked wonderful. It should have been a happy moment for them both, when they were sitting together with tea and treats. But Alastor’s heart just wasn’t in it the way it was during breakfast or when he gave Baxter the first bag of things he had bought just for him. Alastor looked happier than he had a minute or two ago but Baxter could still see that something was on his mind. How he wished he knew what it was.

“Baxter?” Alastor suddenly spoke.

“Yes, Alastor?” Baxter immediately responded. Hopeful his wish was about to be granted.

"I want to apologise for earlier.” he proclaimed, “You had to comfort me back there when I should have been comforting you.”

“Oh, Alastor.” Baxter put his cup of tea down to give Alastor the hug he needed. “You’ve been comforting me all morning and how you reacted was perfectly understandable. Listen. I think I know why we both got so frightened. When you first saw me cough up blood, what was the first thing that came into your mind?”

“TB.” Alastor answered, “That’s what I thought of right away.”

“Yes, precisely!” Baxter said, “I didn’t admit it to myself at first but when I started coughing up blood, tuberculosis was on the back of my mind as well. Even though I knew I didn’t have it. I think that was because coughing up blood is a symptom associated with far worse illnesses than what I’ve got. That would have certainly been the case in your time and especially in mine. So, no wonder we immediately assumed the worst. It must be the reason why I jumped to conclusions. Despite having the medical knowledge to know better. And why, when you saw me coughing up blood, you;”

“Panicked.” Alastor finished for him.

Baxter nodded. “You reacted exactly the way I expected. And I expected you to react that way because I know how protective you are over me and;”

He averted eye contact with Alastor but blushed and smiled when he said,

“Because I know how much you love me.”

Alastor’s cheeks turned redder than the strawberries. Then he finally smiled a genuinely warm and happy smile before tilting Baxter’s chin up for a kiss.

“That’s right.” Baxter beamed. Holding Alastor’s face in his hands and smoothing over the adorable dimples his smile created, “No more frowning now. It doesn’t suit you. Let’s start enjoying the day again. Starting with this unusual tea.”

He picked up the Bakewell tart tea and sampled it. Unfortunately, this was an action his taste buds would come to detest him for.

Baxter theorised that this tea existed for the same reason Alastor bought it. People like tea and they like Bakewell tarts, so why not put the two together? That sounds like a great idea. It was a good idea in theory but unfortunately, in practice Bakewell tart flavouring turned out to be the same as banana flavouring. In the sense that everything it touched instantly turned terrible. But course, Baxter was going to find a kinder way to word that to his partner.

“This is… um…. well.” he stammered, trying to find the right words to describe the taste. But Alastor took the tea from him and sampled it himself, saving him the bother.

“Disgusting.” Alastor spoke for him, “Way too sweet. Maybe, I shouldn’t have put sugar in it.”

“I don’t think leaving it out would have made much difference” Baxter said honestly, “Such a shame, if done right it could really work and Alastor,”

“I know. I know.” Alastor read him like an open book, “You appreciate that I got it anyway.” He looked away from Baxter for a moment before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Now Alastor’s demeanour as was perky and cheerful as it should be. But Baxter detected an aura of mischief around him as well.

He caught him stealing glances towards the bag all the tea was once in. Come to think of it, why did Alastor keep going back to it to retrieve things? Why hadn’t he simply brought the bag to Baxter, like he had the other one? And if it was empty, why hadn’t he thrown it away? Upon closer inspection, Baxter could see that it wasn’t.

“Baxter.” Alastor said.

“Yes.” Baxter answered suspiciously.

“I did get you one more thing.” His partner confessed.

Baxter took one look at the gleam in Alastor’s eyes and the smirk across his face and he knew exactly what was up.

“Oh lord.” Baxter smirked back and made no attempt to hide it, “I know that look. You’ve gotten something ludicrous for me to wear again, haven’t you?”

No words from Alastor were needed. It was obvious.

"Let’s see it.” Baxter mock sighed, “I’ve already seen the worst you’re taste gets. No matter what, it can’t possibly be any worse than the Christmas jumper you had made for me last year.”

“What was wrong with it?” Alastor played dumb, knowing full well with great amusement why Baxter refused to wear it in public.

"Alastor. It read, "Kiss me under the mistletoe and my lover will have your guts for tinsel.” And if that wasn’t bad enough, when I refused to wear it you had one made for yourself that had an arrow on it pointing to the left, which you always made sure was pointing to me, and it read, “Kiss him under the mistletoe and I’ll have your guts for tinsel.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that.” Alastor pretended to pout.

“Because you’re nuts. And if anyone saw me wear it, they’d have thought I was nuts too.”

"You still kept it.”

“Well of course I kept it. You had it made for me. I couldn’t throw it away, even if it was of hideous taste”.

“You like it really.” Alastor cooed, “I know it as well as I know you’ll like this;”

He brought the bag over to Baxter and pulled out a perfectly folded square of sapphire blue, plush fabric. He unfolded it in a single motion. Showing it off the way a magician would show off his magic and when Baxter saw what it was, he burst into peals of laughter.

"What is that?” he cackled uncontrollably.

“Something I thought would suit you very well.” Alastor said, smirk raised in anticipation for the banter they both knew was to come.

“You thought that would suit me? You must be joking. It looks like an adult sized pair of baby grows.”

It really did. All that was missing where the feet and a hood had been added instead. Apparently whoever designed the thing didn’t think it looked ridiculous enough.

“I am not wearing that.” Baxter giggled, “I’d look like a right prat.”

“You’d look adorable.” Alastor insisted.

“Like a baby.” Baxter argued playfully.

“No, like the cutest thing ever to bless this hotel with his presence.” Alastor said, brushing his finger along Baxter’s jawline and up to his cheek, “That you are but when I saw this, I knew it was just the thing to bring out that cuteness. And anyway, I bought it mainly because of its comfort. Feel how soft it is.”

Alastor rubbed the hood of the garment lightly against Baxter’s cheek and he could immediately see where Alastor was coming from. It had a fluffy texture, making it very, very soft. Yet the material was light, so Baxter wasn’t likely to overheat if he wore it. Although it looked absolutely stupid, Alastor couldn’t have chosen a better thing for a sick person to wear.

“Alright. You’ve convinced me to try it on. But,” Baxter said, giving Alastor a death glare and jabbing a finger into his chest “if you take a picture of me wearing it and post it onto social media, I. Will. End you.”

Alastor laughed and said, "Not to worry, darl. You in this little number will be strictly for my eyes only.”

Baxter rolled his eyes and huffed at Alastor but he couldn’t help smiling.

A little while later, the couple were cuddled up together in bed. Baxter wearing his gift from Alastor and Alastor wearing nightclothes of his own. Which since he slept here so often, Baxter always kept in his wardrobe for him. For some reason Alastor seemed insistent on keeping Baxter’s hood up. He hadn’t taken a picture of Baxter yet, he seemed to be far too busy cuddling him. He was probably waiting for him to fall asleep. That reminded Baxter.

“You really should get some sleep now, Alastor. You’ve been working all night”.

“I’ll fall asleep when you fall asleep.”

“That won’t be long, I can tell you. How am I suddenly this tired?”

“Because you’re ill and you’ve had no sleep.”

“Probably.” Baxter yawned, snuggling further into Alastor’s embrace. "You’ve been so good to me today, Alastor. So considerate and thoughtful, even this was a good idea.” he praised his partner, tugging at the fluffy blue mockery. “But as far as the others know, it doesn’t exist, and I have never worn it”.

Alastor chuckled and leaned further into Baxter’s touch. ‘Today’s been good so far, hasn’t it? And you wanted to go to work.”

“I must go to work tomorrow.” Baxter said, “I’ve caused enough bother just by staying in today.”

“You’ll go to work when you’re better and only when you’re better.” Alastor said firmly but with plenty of affection.

Baxter was in no mood to argue. It just wasn’t the right mood to have an argument in general and besides, he was too tired for it. Funny how last night he couldn’t get to sleep no matter how hard he tried and now he was struggling to stay awake. Maybe it was the comfort of the blankets and the all in one pyjama thing or it was the added feeling of safety that came with being held by someone but he was fighting to keep his eyes open and slowly surrendering. In his hazy state of mind, he settled on the conclusion that it was both. Certainly both. He would try to convince Alastor to let him go to work tomorrow without any fuss. But secretly, he hoped he would stay just as stubborn and uncooperative as ever. He could spend the whole week like this.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #baxter #molly #fanfic

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ambiidexter · 6 years

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On Peter’s magical abilities

This isn’t really a headcanon, mostly canon facts with a bit of my conclusions, but it’s essential for my portrayal, so I’ll put this one into the headcanon category. Here comes a long-ass essay on Peter Pettigrew’s magical and intellectual abilities, accompanied by every single objection I’ve ever witnessed during the years of being in Harry Potter fandom.

There is a lot of misconceptions about Peter Pettigrew that very few people are willing to dispel, because he’s just such a hated character, right?

The two Big Ones TM are: Peter’s reasons for betrayal (that will be covered in my next “essay”) and Peter’s magical skills. He is widely considered to be one of the weakest wizards in the whole Harry Potter series, if not THE weakest one. I hereby proclaim it bullshit. More under the cut.

1) First thing’s first, Peter was one of the three youngest Animagi ever. At the age of 15 he pulled off a feat that not many adult wizards were able to do. Along with the registered Animagi and Rita Skeeter, there were 11 known Animagi in the 20th century total.

“But he needed help from James and Sirius, and was the last one to become an Animagus.”

McGonagall needed tutoring from Dumbledore to become an Animagus. Not from 15-year-old students, she got help from the most powerful wizard alive. Anyone here has enough balls to call McGonagall a weak witch? Yeah, didn’t think so.

Next, Peter being the last one. Before you embark on a serious enterprise, you study the materials and plan the steps. It was common knowledge that the process of becoming an Animagus was extremely dangerous. It could result in agony, it could result in irreversible mutilation or even death. If there is one thing that everyone remembers about Peter, it’s how easily scared he was. Knowing all this, he ought to have lagged and postponed it as much as possible, until enough peer pressure had built up to finally make him go for it. Furthermore, the standard time for performing the tasks necessary for the first transformation is one month. No matter how talented or skilled you are, it’s one month of carrying a mandrake leaf in your mouth and repeating the incantation at every dawn and dusk. As soon as that term comes to an end, you have to wait for the first electric storm. Electric storms aren’t known for being exactly punctual. They depend on a million things. Taking into account that Peter did all that shit not at the same time with James and Sirius, he could’ve waited for his electric storm for ages, after James and Sirius had already completed the ritual.

“But in the flashback he couldn’t list the traits of a werewolf despite having spent a lot of time next to one, and he tried to crib his friends’ test answers. How talentless does one have to be for that?”

To be quite frank, I really hate when Peter gets compared to Neville, but remember Neville? It was very clear that Neville had anxiety. He’d forget things, lose his rememberall, make a fool of himself in front of the teachers and was overall clumsy. Then, in a critical situation, he showed himself as a talented wizard, and the fandom welcomed that change. Neville overcame his anxiety once he grew up and learned to deal with his inner demons, and voila, turned out he actually had talent in him, it just hadn’t surfaced before! Yes, the reason for Neville’s anxiety gets named and the reason for Peter’s doesn’t (which is food for thought in another headcanon), but does it really matter if they clearly had the same problem, and that’s what serves as the main reason for comparison of these characters? Anxious people tend to do much better once they are out of school, and here we move on to the next topic.

2) Peter was a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

“But the Marauders always had him in tow, so of course they made him join.”

The Order of the Phoenix was a near-military organization, its members fought in a war. It wasn’t a “participation award” kind of club. They couldn’t afford accepting inept wizards to make them feel better. They needed members who knew how to put up a fight, skilled, powerful members. Dumbledore was the head of the organization for fuck’s sake, and he was a better judge of people’s abilities than, say, Sirius.

3) When confronted by Black in the street, Peter neutralized Sirius faster than Sirius could neutralize him, framed Sirius for treason and mass murder, faked his own death and escaped. He came up with all of this in mere seconds, under immense pressure. This plan was so good it had worked for 13 years.

With his wand behind his back, Peter wrecked a square and turned 12 people into mince with a single spell, Confringo. Now, this is a dueling spell, normally used in dueling competitions. Not real life fights where wizards might aim to kill each other. There are several mentions of using Confringo in life-or-death battles, and the most known are: Harry destroying the flying motorcycle's side-car during the Battle of the Seven Potters and Hermione Granger trying to kill Nagini. A side-car is not a big deal, and Nagini lived on to the final chapters of the book. Evidence suggests that Confringo doesn’t normally have effects as devastating as when it was used by Peter. One spell, 12 victims and huge collateral damage.

“But he just said the incantation and pointed a wand, that’s easy.”

If that’s easy, why does most of the plot of Harry Potter books revolve around young wizards sweating away for seven years to learn to control and apply their powers when casting spells? Why aren’t they simply given lists of spells to memorize and graduate in a year? Why do inexperienced wizards end up accidentally killing themselves with the destructive magic they fail to control? See Crabbe burning himself to death with Fiendfyre. Why are other wizards in the story considered to be powerful for just shouting spells and pointing wands?

“But McGonagall said Peter was hopeless at dueling, and wasn’t in the rest of Marauders’ league talent-wise. And Sirius called Peter a talentless pathetic thing.”

First, see (1). Second, a character’s bias does not equal narrative truth. Rowling’s books are essentially detective stories that follow the laws of the genre. McGonagall’s and Rosmerta’s words (that fat little boy who worshipped James and Sirius) were supposed to lead us away from any assumptions about Peter other than him being a harmless, logical victim of Black’s crime. So that in the end we get shocked. The Ministry sent DEMENTORS and Hit Wizard Squads (equivalent of muggle S.W.A.T.) after Sirius. All of this because they thought that Sirius had done what Pettigrew had actually done. We get this picture of Sirius as a terrifying dark wizard, but as soon as the culprit turns out to be Peter, he’s suddenly weak? But the killer seemed so nice and people told stories about him saving puppies! But Peter seemed so weak and people told stories about him being academically unsuccessful!

The Prisoner of Azkaban, chapter 10:

Fudge: “Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I — I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming.”

Now replace “Black” with “Pettigrew”.

3) Peter is able to cast Avada Kedavra (with a wand that wasn’t his own, which makes it harder to perform magic AND he didn’t even win the wand’s allegiance).

What does it prove, other than Peter being a filthy murderer once again?

The Goblet of Fire , chapter 14:

Crouch Jr as Alastor Moody:“Avada Kedavra’s a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it — you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I’d get so much as a nosebleed.”

Crouch was insane, his words aren’t reliable.

Despite being a crazy Death Eater, Crouch Jr shares the title of the most effective DADA professor in Harry Potter history, along with Remus Lupin. I also doubt his mental issues prevented him from adequately estimating the features of Avada Kedavra.

4) Peter overpowered a Ministry employee Bertha Jorkins, helped Crouch overpower Moody who was known as the greatest auror of his time, and brewed the very first Polyjuice potion for Crouch.

“Voldemort calls Peter stupid and inept all the time and praises Crouch. Crouch must’ve overpowered Moody alone, and Peter was just a bonus.”

Voldemort is notoriously sadistic. He enjoys causing pain in all forms, mental and physical. He relishes people’s pain. He is also one of the best Legilimens users out there. Having such a rich history with Peter, Voldemort knows his every weak spot, every single one. Not only does he use Cruciatus on Peter liberally, he prods the old wounds, namely inferiority complex. And still, even Voldemort can’t refrain from admitting that Peter tends to have “moments of brilliance”. Peter was the one who found Voldemort when everyone else (the allegedly way more powerful and intelligent Death Eaters) had failed. Peter was the one who conjured a rudimentary body for Voldemort, and brought him back fully with the use of ancient magic even Voldemort doubted would work.

“Big deal, throwing a bone, a drop of blood, and a hand into a potion.”

Big deal, being good at potions? Ask the people who had Snape for teacher. Once again, Voldemort himself deemed the task to be complicated. Anyone here wants to question Voldemort’s competence in magic? Magic is about inherent ability first and foremost, not the set of steps to complete. Otherwise there would be no such things as muggles and squibs.

“Peter just followed Voldemort’s instructions for that potion.”

And all wizards in the story followed instructions of their teachers at some point. Are they all weak? Peter (or anybody, really) clearly had no reason to be interested in THAT potion until he found Voldemort in his incorporeal state, so why would he learn how to make it beforehand? Harry had Snape’s textbook to help him excel at potions in his sixth year, but does that nullify his power overall? Also, everyone forgets that Peter DID graduate Hogwarts. That requires passing N.E.W.T. levels.

5) Other things: Peter took part in creating the incredibly intricate Marauder’s map. He can cast non-verbal spells (N.E.W.T.-level advanced Transfiguration spell Incarcerous on Harry, stunning Ron and Crookshanks (with another wizard’s wand), levitation of Harry), which are also considered advanced magic that requires outstanding abilities.

Peter Pettigrew is a lot of things, but a weak wizard he isn’t.

#lots of salt under the cut #&; headcanons #peter pettigrew #&; meta #&; essentials

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cwartsy · 7 years

Text

It's the Thought That Counts (Part Three: Most of it: I think I ran out of room)

While they waited for Molly, Baxter and Alastor sat huddled up together at the end of Baxter’s bed. Alastor had looked so unsure of himself since that phone call ended, he just sat by Baxter’s side and held him as if he didn’t know what else to do. It was worrying to see him like this and Baxter also found he that couldn’t of anything more he could do than hug his partner and hold him until Molly came.

Time seemed to pause in that moment and nothing existed to Baxter except for his poor, worried partner.

A knock at the door snapped them both back into reality. Alastor went to answer it and in came molly, still in her pyjamas and sporting quite an impressive bed head. The only thing indicating she was a medical professional was the stethoscope protruding slightly out of the open bag she must have hastily thrown it into.

“You should have phoned me, dumbass” Molly sighed to Baxter as he entered his room.

Baxter gave her a weak smile as Alastor went straight back to his side and resumed his dutiful position as Baxter’s cuddle dispenser. Molly looked at them as if they were a pair of snuggling puppies, which was pretty embarrassing for Baxter but nowhere near embarrassing enough to stop him from putting his arms around Alastor.

But of course, he had to let go so Molly could check him over properly, which he did with great reluctance.

Molly took his temperature, checked his breathing and the state of his throat, all of which were standard of a medical check-up for his illness but when she started checking his heartbeat and his pulse, he knew something was up. These things weren’t of any necessity and Molly was professional enough to know this. The only reason Baxter could think of for Molly’s sudden over thoroughness was that she was doing for show to make Alastor feel better. Baxter could not have been more thankful for Molly’s good thinking.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him

“Apart from the blood and tiredness not too bad.” He answered in total honesty.

“Did you get any sleep while I was gone?” Alastor cut in.

“I tried to” Baxter told him truthfully “But I had the same problems I did before and then when I started coughing up blood, I couldn’t get back to sleep at all.”

Baxter didn’t realise how thoughtless he had been saying that until he saw Alastor’s face. The poor thing looked pained with guilt.

“I could have phoned you at any time” Baxter reminded him “I just chose not to. Silly, wasn’t it?”.

“Yes, it was” Alastor said “I don’t know what to with you sometimes”.

“He’s a terrible patient, isn’t he?” commented Molly.

“The worst.” Alastor agreed.

“Hey now,” Baxter defended “I haven’t that bad today, have I?

“No” Alastor agreed with narrowed eyes “Not after I caught you sneaking off to work”. He shook his head and said to Molly, “He’d drop dead without me, I swear. He treats himself like a machine”

“Besides from coughing up blood, have you been experiencing any other new symptoms?” Molly asked.

“No, none at all” He answered.

“How are you on pain?” She asked him another question. It went without saying that this one was of great interest to Alastor.

“It’s come and gone but overall, it hasn’t been too bad” Baxter said “As of yet, I haven’t felt the need to take any medication.”

Molly seemed satisfied with the information she had gathered. “Everything seems to be normal, chest infection wise” She said in a conclusion that was much more aimed towards Alastor than it was Baxter as she reached for something in her bag.

“I think we can both agree that you’re not in a bad enough condition to need these, but I’ll leave them with you just in case you get worse.” She said to Baxter, handing him a box of pills, which as Baxter expected turned out to be amoxicillin 500mg

“That’s about all I can do for him” She said to Alastor “I’d say take care of him, but I know you will, and as for you” She turned to Baxter “Rest and let me know how you are tomorrow, I gotta get going”.

Baxter thanked her for everything and almost said goodbye but questioned the point. Even though she had done all she could and there was no more reason for her to be here, she probably wasn’t going right now, not if Alastor had anything to say about it. He looked at his partner. As he predicted, Alastor was appalled by the briefness of Molly’s visit.

“But what about the blood?” He protested. “Can’t we do anything about that?”

“That will clear up on its own, Alastor. Like everything else” Baxter told him gently.

“He’s right.” Molly confirmed “He’ll get better by himself, Al. You’ll see. ”

Alastor wasn’t entirely convinced “You said that medicine there is for if he gets worse but surely there’s something we can give him now?”

Then Alastor’s eyes light of as if he just remembered something, He darted towards to other shopping bag he brought in, of which the contents were still unknown to Baxter. He fished some items out of it and promptly brought them to Baxter.

“Here, darl” he said handing him a cough medicine and a spoon. He probably got the spoon from the kitchens, but Baxter wouldn’t put it past his partner that he’d bought it while out for this specific purpose “Take some of this, that’ll help, right?”

“You are good to me” Baxter praised before breaking the reality to him “But Medicine isn’t going to help me recover any faster. Especially not cough medicine. As good as it was of you to get it for me, the coughing I’m experiencing is actually helping me clear the infection. All I need are the painkillers and the Amoxicillin if I get worse.”

“Oh” Alastor said disheartened “I got you some stuff for your throat too, would that help?”

“Oh yes, definitely” Baxter said immediately, hoping the knowledge that Alastor had indeed got him something useful would make him feel better.

It did but sadly, only slightly. He went back to the where the bag was and retrieved everything else he had gotten to help Baxter with his illness. Apparently, Alastor hadn’t been sure which brand of throat sweets would work the best, so he bought the lot. That would explain why Baxter now had a dozen different brands of sweets to choose from. He’d also got him tea with honey and lemons to with it.

“There was lot of stuff labelled honey and lemon in packets, but I figured the real stuff would work better” Alastor explained.

“How thoughtful” Molly complimented.

“He has been marvellous” Baxter said “You should see all the other things he got for me and what he made for me earlier”.

He then told Molly all about everything Alastor had done for him thus far. Molly found it all to be impressive and adorably sweet and he encouraged her to talk about it like mad. He thought all the compliments the praise would do Alastor’s esteem wonders but when he turned to his beloved partner, he was sorry to see that he looked just as uncertain and anxious as he had when he called Molly to come over

“Alastor” he said soothed his partner, taking his hand “I can see you’re still worried about me but there really is no need to be. If there was anything seriously wrong with me, Molly would know right away. I would know right away. I know I’m ill but I’m not suffering, I’m not even in that much pain and I am going to better very soon. I’m going to be just fine.”

At last, Alastor, was looking a little happier. He smiled for the first time since he found out Baxter was coughing up blood. But of course, Baxter had to go and mess it all up.

“In fact, from the way I’m feeling right now, I’m certain I will be able to go back to work tomorrow.”

Alastor looked at Baxter as if he was mad.

“Yeah” Molly agreed with a smile “If you get enough rest today, I don’t see why you can’t come back in tomorrow”.

But when Molly was unfortunate enough get a glance at the look on Alastor’s face, she immedietly rephrased herself. No hypnosis needed, his glare was more than enough to do the job.

“Or” She said nervously if Bax is still ill then maybe, three days?

Alastor clung to Baxter and pulled him behind him as if he thought he was going to be snatched away at any moment “Three days?” He cried out stupefied “He’s coughing up blood! He’s not going anywhere until that stops.”

“That might, not be for another week, Alastor.” Baxter told him gently “Can’t afford to take that much time of work”

“You can’t help being ill, Baxter.” Alastor proclaimed “Molly will just have to manage. You can manage, can’t you?”

“Yeah, but only for so long” Molly Said “It’s been getting really busy lately, even more than usual. I can’t remember the last time we’ve had a slow day”.

“That’s because we’ve never had a slow day” Baxter corrected “Not once”.

"Exactly” Molly said “Am I’m definitely going to need you over the weekend”

“But of course,” Baxter said in empathy “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you to face the nightlife nightmare alone.”

“I think I’d rather risk my limbs trying to haul you away from Al” she chuckled light-heartedly to herself before getting serious “Seriously though All, it’s obvious seeing Baxter cough up blood scared you but he really his going to be fine. It’s likely that he’ll stop in a few days and then he’ll get better from there”

Alastor didn’t answer, he just kept clinging on to Baxter

“I’ll tell you what” Molly compromised, “I’ll let you take care of him for five days, in that time you should start seeing improvements in his health, that’ll make you feel better, won’t it?”

“But Molly,” Baxter objected “That’s not fair on you”.

Molly didn’t say anything back. She just looked at him and then at Alastor, making him follow her eyes up to meet his partner’s. He saw how relieved and grateful Alastor looked and he couldn’t protest any further. He just wrapped his arms around him and mouthed at Molly “Thank you”

She gave him a warm smile in return and went on with her discussion with Alastor as if their interaction hadn’t happened, as if it was a secret between them.

“But after those five days, Al, I’m going to have to start fighting for him”

“Good luck” Alastor said to her jokingly.

“Thanks. I’ll need it” she joked back.

It was good fun to see Alastor and Molly share a moment of silliness, but it crossed Baxter’s mind that there wasn’t much time left until Molly’s shift started. He wondered how much time there was to go. Apparently, Molly wondered the same thing because in that exact same moment, she took a glance at Baxter’s alarm clock and jumped back when she read the time.

“And, it’s half seven and I am nowhere near ready” She said, making a swift exit “now I’ve really got to go. I’ll see you two later. Any problems call me.”

They all exchanged goodbyes and just like that, Molly was gone. When she shut the door shut behind her, the sound echoed through the room and then suddenly, it became dead quiet. Now that it was just the two of them, the silence was overbearing to the point where Baxter started noticing sounds he never noticed like the water in the radiator or the breezy whirring of the electrics in his mini fridge. He felt like he should break the silence, but he didn’t quite know how and the guessed that Alastor had the same problem, neither of them were sure of what to say the other.

With their communication struggling, they found themselves returning to as they were when they were waiting for Molly to arrive. Alastor held Baxter as tight as he could without cutting of his air supply and rested his chin on Baxter’s shoulder. Baxter was too short to reach the top of Alastor’s shoulder, so he settled on leaning into his chest, listening to his heart beat.

It was clear to Baxter that Alastor was still shaken up. He had to do something. His partner needed something that would make his fear go away, or at the very least distract him from it. He thought back to the events of this morning and remembered how happy Alastor was seeing him react to everything he had done for him. Of course. The other bag was still stuffed with purchases, it was a solution was in plain sight.

“What else is in that bag you brought back?” He casually asked his lover.

“Nothing important” Alastor said

“Oh, come on now” Baxter insisted “Everything you got for me today, you got to make my day as comfortable as pleasant as possible. That is important to me, Alastor. It shows me just how much you care.”

All Baxter got from Alastor in response was painful silence.

“Look, I really hope you don’t feel guilt for being out getting me all these lovely things while a nasty symptom of my infection just so happened to pop up. I was fine.”

“You must have been frightened” Alastor lamented “And thanks to me, you were all alone, trapped and in the dark”

“You didn’t know what was happening!” Baxter consoled “And when it was happening, I knew you were just a phone call away. All I had to do was give you a call and you’d be there, but I chose not to because I wanted to spare you from stress. I thought that If I could keep you from knowing about the blood until Molly got here and could confirm that I was going to be alright, maybe you wouldn’t worry so. But it all went wrong, and I just ended up making things worse, didn’t I?”

Alastor gripped Baxter by the shoulders and pushed him out of his embrace so that he could face him. He opened his mouth and strangled sounds of protest came out, but no actual words formed. Baxter couldn’t possibly guess every word he was trying to say but clearly, he strongly disagreed with something Baxter had said.

“You don’t think I should be blaming myself, do you?” he guessed with confidence.

“No!” Alastor finally managed to blurt out.

“I don’t think this is a situation where either of us can be blamed” Baxter addressed “But all the same, I’ll try to be more honest with you from now on. If anything like this happens again, I’ll let you know. I promise.”

Baxter was ecstatic when he saw a small smile spread across Alastor’s face. At last he was getting somewhere with him.

“Alright” he said giving Baxter a small kiss “Wait here, a moment.”

He went over to the remaining shopping bag and retrieved its contents.

"I’m afraid this one isn’t as exciting as the other one” He said sheepishly “It’s mostly just tea. I got you the ones I know you like and some I thought you might”.

Baxter hadn’t expected Alastor to be subtle here. obviously not, subtlety was something Alastor just did not do. But he still managed to surprise Baxter when he saw him come back towards him with his arms loaded with god only knew how many different types of tea.

“Were there any you didn’t buy?” He laughed out of shock.

“Not really” Alastor admitted with another small smile.

Baxter spotted the ones he liked, classic, green and chamomile and again, he was flattered Alastor had remembered his favourites but what really caught his eye were the ones he had bought for him to try, jasmine, mint green, peppermint, green tea with pomegranate, gingerbread and even bakewell tart. How on earth Aalstor had managed to find a box of bakewell tart flavoured tea, Baxter didn’t know.

“These all look fantastic” he gave his partner some much needed praise. “I can’t drink too many hot drinks when I’ve got this infection but even so, I’m looking forward to trying all these. Thank you, darling”

“I’ll make you a cup now, if you want” Alastor offered.

“Thank you, Alastor. That would be lovely” Baxter gratefully accepted “Now then, which one to try first. I feel like should have the normal one with honey and lemon to help my throat but I’m curious to try the flavoured ones, especially the,

“Bakewell tart?” Alastor guessed

“The bakewell tart” Baxter nodded.

“I got you some actual bakewell tarts too” Alastor announced retrieving two boxes of them from the bag “And, as a very special treat because you’re sick, don’t get used to it, I got you this.”

Baxter was then stunned when Alastor placed a pot of caramel coffee in his hand. It was a small pot, and instant but nevertheless,

“You got me coffee?” he marvelled “Real coffee?”

He inspected the label and sure enough, it wasn’t decaf.

“But you can’t stand me drinking coffee” he said flabbergasted.

“I’m advised that one cup a day can’t harm you” Alastor said “But just because I bought you some, don’t think I’m going to let you go back to getting through an entire pot or two a day.”

“Never again, love” he promised and meant every word.

“I hope so.” Alastor said “How is your throat? Is it really hurting?”

“It is getting difficult to swallow” Baxter admitted, popping a cherry Soother into his mouth.

Alastor nodded in acknowledgement “How about ordinary tea with honey and lemon for you, chamomile for me and we’ll share a cup of bakewell, just to try it? He suggested.

“Sounds like a good idea to me’ Baxter agreed.

Alastor had the teas made in the time it takes to boil a kettle and slice up a lemon, with a scalpel due to the lack of knives in the room.

While he did this, Baxter thought about opening one of the boxes of bakewell tarts, but it just seemed odd to have them with the same thing in the form of flavoured tea. So, he opted to dig out some fruit and chocolate out of the first bag instead. Choosing the strawberries and the Turkish delight filled bar of Cadbury’s chocolate, knowing how much Alastor loved the stuff.

Alastor used the same tray he��d carried breakfast on to serve the teas and with the fruit and chocolate, it looked a wonderful. It should have been a happy moment for them both when they were sitting together with tea and treats but Alastor heart wasn’t in it the way it was during breakfast or when he gave Baxter the first bag of things he had bought just for him. Alastor looked happier than he had a minute or two ago, but Baxter could still see that something was on his mind. How he wished he knew what it was.

“Baxter?” Alastor suddenly spoke.

“Yes, Alastor?” Baxter immediately responded, hopeful his wish was about to be granted.

"I want to apologise for earlier” he proclaimed “You had to comfort me back there when I should have been comforting you”.

“Oh, Alastor” Baxter put his cup of tea down to give Alastor the hug he needed “You’ve been comforting me all morning and how you reacted perfectly understandable. Listen, I think I know why we both got so frightened. When you first saw me cough up blood, what was the first thing that came into your mind?”

“TB” Alastor answered “That’s what I thought of right away”.

“Yes, precisely!” Baxter said “I didn’t admit to myself at first but when I started coughing up blood, but tuberculosis was on the back of my mind as well. Even though I knew I didn’t have it. I think that was because, coughing up blood is a symptom associated with far worse illnesses than what I’ve got. That would have especially been the case in your time and mine. So, no wonder we immediately assumed the worst. It must be the reason why I jumped to conclusions, despite having the medical knowledge to know better and why, when you saw me coughing up blood, you,”

“Panicked.” Alastor finished for him.

Baxter nodded “You reacted exactly the way I expected, and I expected you to react that way because I know how protective you are over me, and,”

He averted eye contact with Alastor but blushed and smiled when he said,

“Because I know how much you love me”.

Alastor’s cheeks turned redder than the strawberries but he finally smiled a genuinely warm and happy smile before tilting Baxter’s chin up for a kiss.

“That’s right” Baxter beamed, holding Alastor’s face in his hands and smoothing over the adorable dimples his smile created “No more frowning, now. It doesn’t suit you. Let’s start enjoying the day again, starting with this unusual tea”

He picked up the bakewell tart tea and sampled it. Unfortunately, this was an action his taste buds would come to detest him for.

Baxter theorised that this tea existed for the same reason Alastor bought it. People like tea and they bakewell tarts, so why not put the two together? That sounds like a great idea. It was a good idea in theory but unfortunately, in practice bakewell tart flavouring turned out to be the same as banana flavouring, in the sense that everything it touched instantly turned terrible. But course, Baxter was going to find a kinder way to word that to his partner.

“This is… um…. well” he stammered, trying to find the right words to describe the taste but Alastor took the tea from him and sampled it himself, saving him the bother.

“Disgusting” Alastor spoke for him “Way too sweet. Maybe, I shouldn’t have put sugar in it”.

“I don’t think leaving it out would have made much difference” Baxter said honestly “Such a shame, if done right it could really work and Alastor,”

“I know, I know” Alastor read him like an open book “You appreciate that I got it anyway”. He looked away from Baxter for a moment before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Now, Alastor’s demeanour was perky and cheerful as it should be, but Baxter detected an aura of mischief around him as well.

“Baxter” Alastor said.

“Yes” Baxter answered suspiciously.

“I did get you one more thing.” His partner confessed.

Baxter took one look at the gleam in Alastor’s eyes and the smirk across his face, and he knew exactly what was up.

“Oh lord.” Baxter smirked back and made no attempt to hide it “I know that look. You’ve gotten something ludicrous for me to wear again, haven’t you?”

No words from Alastor were needed, it was obvious.

"Let’s see it” Baxter mock sighed “I’ve already seen the worst you’re taste gets. No matter what, it can’t possibly get any worse than the Christmas jumper you had made for me last year.”

“What was wrong with it?” Alastor played dumb, knowing full well with great amusement why Baxter refused to wear it in public.

"Alastor. It read, "kiss him under the mistletoe and I’ll have your guts for tinsel”.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that” Alastor pretended to pout.

“Because you’re nuts and if anyone saw me wear it, they’d have thought I was nuts too.”

"You still kept it”.

“Well of course I kept it, you had it made for me. I couldn’t throw it away, even it was of hideous taste”.

“You like it really” Alastor cooed “I know it as well as I know you’ll like this” He brought the bag over to Baxter and pulled out a perfectly folded square of plush sapphire blue fabric. He unfolded it in a single and motion, showing it off the way, a magician would show of his magic and when Baxter saw what his was, he burst into peals of laughter.

"What is that?” he cackled uncontrollably.

“Something I thought would suit you very well” Alastor said, smirk raised in anticipation for the banter they both knew was to come.

“You thought that would suit me? You must be joking, it looks like an adult sized pair of baby grows”

It really did. All that was missing where the feet and a hood had been added instead, apparently because whoever designed the thing didn’t think it looked ridiculous enough.

“I am not wearing that” Baxter giggled, “I’d look like a right prat”

“You’d look adorable” Alastor insisted.

“Like a baby” augured playfully.

“No, like the cutest thing ever to bless this hotel with his presence” Alastor said, brushing his finger along Baxter’s jawline and up to his cheek “That, you are but when I saw this, I knew it was just the thing to bring out that cuteness. And anyway, I bought it mainly because of its comfort. Feel how soft it is.”

Alastor rubbed the hood of the garment lightly against Baxter’s cheek and he could immediately see where Alastor was coming from. It had a fluffy texture, making very, very soft yet the material was light, so Baxter wasn’t likely to overheat if he wore it. Although looked absolutely stupid, Alastor couldn’t have chosen a better thing for a sick person to wear.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me to try it on. But,” Baxter said, giving Alastor a death glare and jabbing a finger into his chest “If you take a picture of me wearing it and post it onto social media, I, will, end you.”

Alastor laughed and said "Not to worry, darl. You in this little number will be strictly for my eyes only”

Baxter rolled his eyes and huffed at Alastor but he couldn’t help smiling.

A little while later, the couple were cuddled up together in bed, Baxter wearing his gift from Alastor and Alastor wearing nightclothes of his own, which since he slept here so often, Baxter always kept in his wardrobe for him. For some reason Alastor seemed insistent on keeping Baxter’s hood up. He hadn’t taken a picture of Baxter yet, he seemed to be far too busy cuddling him. He was probably waiting for him to fall asleep. That reminded Baxter.

“You really should get some now Alastor, you’ve been working all night”.

“I’ll fall asleep when you fall asleep”

That won’t be long, I can tell you. How am I suddenly this tired?

“Because you’re ill and you’ve had no sleep”

“Probably” Baxter yawned, snuggling further into Alastor’s embrace "You’ve been so good to me today, Alastor.” So considerate and thoughtful, even this was a good idea” he praised his partner tugging at fluffy blue mockery “But as far as the others know, it doesn’t exist, and I have never worn it”.

Alastor chuckled and leaned further into Baxter’s touch ‘Today’s been good so, far hasn’t it? And you wanted to go to work”

“I must go to work tomorrow” Baxter said, “I’ve caused enough bother just by staying in today”

“You’ll go to work when you’re better and only when you’re better” Alastor said firmly but with plenty of affection.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #baxter #molly

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