You giggled lightly at a joke Husk had just told you from the bar, his smile proud and eyes half-lidded while he guzzled on a bottle of his cheap booze. The gray feline was definitely growing on you, the endless amount of stories and fights he told you about always managing to keep your attention hooked.
A pair of arms coiling around your waist interrupted you, eyes shifting to the stag. He sighed contently, nose burying into the crook of your neck. You could see Husk raise a brow, clearly confused as to why you were letting a feared demon touch you — or more as to why Alastor was being so touchy. It wasn't a sight he was used to seeing. Alastor was always on guard and rarely let anyone approach him, not having ever been one for affection.
"The fuck are you doing?" he growled, Alastor's ears perking up. His breath warmed your neck as he spoke, "Just enjoying what's mine." A giggle slipped from your mouth. How was he so feared yet so insanely adorable at the same time? Those two factors just seemed to completely go against each other.
"Aw, Al," you smiled and ran a hand through his hair, the male picking you up and carrying you to the small lobby couch and plopping down onto it with you in his arms. Husk's dark eyes narrowed, a very addled scowl upon his muzzle. He ended up shrugging it off and went back to cleaning the bar, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder.
Alastor laid down in a way so that his back was against the couch and you were on his stomach. His smile was small, meaningful. Thousands of different acrylics of love and passion were painted behind that ruby gaze he had adopted when he dropped, your face flaring at the words he murmured, "You are so, so beautiful. Did you know that?" He looked lovesick, ears bent back as he silently admired you.
"You're such a dope, Alastor," you slapped your hand against his chest lightly. A low chuckle shook his chest, he pulled you down so you would be face to face with him. His lips met your nose in a hasty kiss, your eyes blinking owlishly at his act of affection.
"Alastor. I need to talk to you," Gabriel's voice echoed from the entrance to the lobby. The angel seemed unbothered by the position you were both in, the stag's ears swiveling towards the sound while his head followed more slowly. Niffty was sat on his shoulder with a smile, her orange eye bright. She jumped off of the divinity's shoulder snd began dusting the lobby as if she hadn't already done that just two hours prior.
With a heavy sigh, Alastor lifted you off him and set you aside, proceeding to stand up and follow Gabriel out of the room. The halls were quiet, surprisingly. Normally Angel Dust would be doing something stupid just to make a ruckus, but today he seemed to be out. Hopefully he was. "What is it?" Alastor snapped, folding his arms over his chest. The Archangel glared at him.
"We need to get rid of Damien, and I mean soon. Tonight, just after eleven, I want you to camp out in the shadows just outside of his room. I have a feeling he'll leave like he usually does." Gabriel handed the stag an earpiece. Alastor's brow raised. "And this is?"
"So we can communicate; you put it on your ear, like this," Gabriel's hands reached for the buck's ear after he had pinched the piece out of his hold, adjusting it so it would sit snuggly and be concealed by Alastor's fluff.
"There. I have one too. I'll be able to talk to you without being there since I can't hide very well in the dark." He gestured to the two aureoles above his head, Alastor's ear instinctively flicking rapidly in an attempt to remove whatever wasn't meant to be there. The angelic being frowned and reached up again, his slim fingers fiddling with the device. "Stop moving your stupid ear," he snapped, clutching the furry base of it to stop its movement.
Alastor froze and shook his head, Gabriel's grip coming loose and releasing him. "Don't touch that!" the stag snarled. "Don't touch what!? I was just trying to help!" Gabriel defended himself, hands raised. Alastor hissed and lifted his own hands up and began fidgeting. His tongue was stuck out in concentration, eyes crossed as he looked up.
"You'll break it like that!" Gabriel yelled and slapped both of Alastor's hands away. "No I won't!" he retorted and pushed the Archangel away. "Yes you will! Let me help you!"
"No!" A squeal of static ached in Gabriel's ears, Alastor quickly taking advantage of the moment to swipe both his wrists away from his head and pin the angel against the wall. The divinity's face was etched into a scowl. Alastor's ear flicked several more times.
One of those "oops! I'm not meant to be here" whistles echoed from the end of the hall, the stag's head snapping to the right to see Angel Dust holding his pet pig in his arms, both of his eyes widened as if he had just walked in on a couple making out. Oh. "Wow, Smiles. Didn't think ya swing both ways," the spider cackled, Gabriel's face turning a bright golden color at those words.
"I don't- No!"
"Get off of me, you oaf!" Gabriel shoved the sinner away and rubbed his wrists, a quick snap of his fingers allowing the earpiece to fix itself to Alastor's liking. The ear stopped twitching and Alastor shot him a quick look of disdain and annoyance, rolling his eyes and harshly shouldering past Angel Dust.
-
"Okay, so what's the plan?"
Alastor was concealed within the darkness of the hallway, his red eyes glowing brightly. Damien had returned to his room a couple of hours ago and now they were just waiting for him to come back out like he often did. Hopefully this works. Everyone was asleep, so they didn't run many risks of being caught by a staff member — unless someone got all pissy and began hollering for nothing.
Gabriel's voice came out gravelly, causing Alastor's ear to flick in discomfort. "Just keep an eye out for when he leaves. Then you tell me and I'll meet you in the room." An eye roll happened about a second and a half before the door clicked and swung open, Alastor's red gaze vanishing just as Damien poked his head out. The reptile ran a hand through his black hair and set about walking down the hall after having closed the door and locking it behind him.
Soundlessly, Alastor grinned and slid beneath the door. He popped back up into his physical form once inside, ear twitching. "Alright. He left. You can come in," he said in a low voice. A silhouette of gold appeared in the center of the room, Gabriel's person coming into vision with a quick twirl and a burst of feathers swallowing the silhouette. The feathers blew away and were singed to nothing by small flames, leaving no evidence of his appearance.
Alastor gave a smiley grimace. "A bit extra don't you think?" Gabriel blinked his numerous eyes, a hand being set on his hip sassily. "Oh, like you're never dramatic," he spat through a whisper. "I was just saying! We're only in here together to get that damned gun so that we can finally be rid of that prick." The three sets of wings on the Archangel's back vanished, leaving more space to move.
Their steps were quiet, Zandor slipping away from his host to help with the search. The buck saw Gabriel jump a little at their new companion which had been very mildly amusing from Alastor's point of view. "You're sure he didn't take it with him?" Alastor finally asked, brow raised. His companion nodded, "Positive. He never takes it with him when it's dark." A gentle, hazy laugh vibrated in Alastor's throat.
"Scared he's gonna shoot himself in the foot?" Gabriel shrugged. "Probably. He's a coward. The only reason he did all those horrible things to (Y/n) is because he knew she was defenseless..." Alastor swallowed a ball in his throat so thick he thought he might have started to choke on it, but it went down smooth — thankfully. He wouldn't know what to do if he made a fool of himself in front of this man.
His clawed hands trembled, pupils constricting. He could feel the balance on his own feet begin to dwindle, hand clutching the bed post to hold himself up. Gabriel's voice was just a mixture of sounds, muffled as if he were deep below the blanket of water of an angry ocean.
Blood. Blood was what he saw. The bottoms of his forearms drenched in the iron-scented liquids from the deep marks born into his charcoal-colored flesh. Voices kept blinding his mentality, keeping him from himself. Telling him that it wasn't enough. That he deserved more for what he had done. That all of this was his fault. He deserved the pain that they were forcing him to inflict upon himself.
Not enough! Deeper, bloodier! Look at what you've done! You couldn't help her! You let him do that to her! You think you don't deserve this!? Are you proud!? This is what you deserve! Cut deeper, Alastor! Deeper! PUNISH YOURSELF LIKE THE FUCKING MONSTER YOU ARE!
Remember the child, Alastor?...How it screamed...called for its mother.
...You still took its life...
Cut deeper...
Wailed...nonstop...
More blood...
The fifth night...
Hotter...
The gun...
Hotter! Deeper...! MAKE YOURSELF BLEED.
YOU DESERVE IT.
YOU SICK FUCK! YOU COULDN'T PROTECT HER, YOU COULDN'T EVEN SAVE HER.
THE BLOOD.
REMEMBER THE CHILD!? THE CHILD, ALASTOR! SCREAMED, CRIED! ITS MOTHER TOOK THAT GUN!...
"Alastor!"
Gabriel was shaking him, the stag's head lifting from where he had been clutching it in his hands, fingers tangled in his hair. His eyes were wide — scared even. The smile that was on his face twisted horribly, forced into something it was not. Gabriel removed his hand from Alastor's shoulder, the overlord's ears dipping back.
Get yourself together, Alastor. That was in the past.
And yet, after everything, the scars remained. Bold and sweet with the blood that once flowed from them like flooding rivers.
"Alright?" Gabriel checked, the faintest hint of worry in his voice. The back of Alastor's hand dragged along his forehead, sweat soaking his glove. "J-just fine." Shit. Stammered. Alastor stood upright, both of his ears going erect upon his head. He couldn't let this thing know that he had a fragile side, so standing tall was going to have to be his way of pushing through it.
"Okay... I was just worried for you. After what I said about (Y/n) and Damien, you seemed to go a little fuzzy," he admitted solemnly, fists clenching a little. "I just want her to be safe." Alastor giggled. And then he chuckled. And then he began full-blown laughing, hand clutching his moistened forehead. "You still think you're in this game, eh? You think you have a chance with her!?" He smiled wide. His eyes were psychotic. There was no other way to describe them.
"You're a fool if you think she loves you!" He couldn't hold back anymore. Everything bottled up, even after you arrived here. He had nobody to talk to. Zandor already knew everything, it wasn't enough to talk to him about it. He just wanted to scream. He needed to scream. Hold somebody by the neck and thrust a knife through their gut while he shrieked about everything he did wrong.
"W-well, I don't think you unders-"
"Let me tell you something," the stag snarled, beginning to back Gabriel into a corner of the room, claws dug deep into the palms of his hands. Punish yourself. You deserve it. "She never loved you! And she never. Fucking. Will." Alastor towered. He would kill this man right then and there if he could, but that was not possible.
Deciding he had enough of the situation, Gabriel bent down to reach Alastor's height, a snarl on his face as he shot back. "Oh, please! You don't know that! Maybe she does love me and hasn't told you because she doesn't trust you!" Both his eyes screwed shut as he began to howl with laughter, tears almost forming in his eyes. "You want to know how I know!?" Alastor cackled.
"I fucked her on the couch in the lobby not even two days ago! She begged — actually begged for me! She wanted me! Tell me, Gabriel, have you ever gone to bed with her? Hell! Have you gone to bed with anybody!?" Gabriel was furious. The adrenaline high Alastor had just moments earlier vanished like a mirage under rain. That was when he realized his mistake. Oops.
"You sick FUCK!" The Archangel reeled his arm backwards, his sleeve slipping back in the process. Several eyes were revealed, all flaming with golden dust. He could see his knuckles clenched tightly, far paler than they usually would have been. Then his fist made impact with Alastor's jaw, sending him tumbling backwards and slamming against one of the bedposts. The bed squeaked and wobbled.
"I should have killed you when I had the fucking chance! You're no better than the asshole that hurt her when she was alive! You're just a man who can't keep his dick in his pants!" Gabriel shrieked, wings unfurling from the void and fluffing to make him look big. Alastor panted. His lip was busted and bubbling with blood.
"Take that back," he hissed, wiping the crimson liquid from his bottom lip with a thumb. The last thing he wanted to be categorized with was the sack of shit that hurt you for all those months back on Earth. He would never be like that. No matter what. He was crazy, yes; but he was not a monster.
You know damn well you are. Cut deep, Alastor. When this is over, cut real deep. That blood in your veins doesn't deserve to be yours.
"What?" Gabriel seemed angered by what he had demanded. "I said: Take. That. Back." The angel shook his head, a smile of his own growing on his perfectly defined features. "You fucking wish. What I said is true!"
A large knife formed in Alastor's palm, being tightly grasped before he launched himself at the angelic being, the only thing keeping him from draining him of the blood in his body being Zandor. The chaotic Loa forced him back. Tears spilled from Alastor's eyes, face unnaturally gnarled into a frown. "TAKE IT BACK!" he screamed through a sob, static clutching onto his words like a sour smell.
"Alastor, stop! Get it together! We need to go! NOW!" He froze, ears twitching. Zandor was right. Damien hadn't left for a coffee this time. His muscles tensed. "(Y/n)..." He plunged the knife into the floorboards beside Gabriel's head, the vibrations of the ground managing to shake a box off of a shelf. From all the thumping around, it must have moved itself quite a bit. The knife was just the final straw.
The gun. Zandor collected it, the blessing tip vanishing to an unknown location. "ALASTOR, GO! HE'LL HURT HER" the Loa yelled, the overlord not wasting another moment to scramble to his feet and hurry down the hall, rubbing the tears that stung his eyes. His body became one with the shadows and he manifested in your room within an instant, staff appearing in-hand. Damien was stood over your bed with a knife and a vial. My plan...
A mass of tentacles fired from the shadows, ensnaring the predator and slamming him down against the floor. The noise woke you. Alastor had the microphone's pointed tip held to Damien's throat, the stag raising the weapon above his head. He brought it down, piercing right through the flesh and down into the floor beneath the sinner.
He repeated the action again, this time in Damien's stomach, a gurgled shriek bubbling in his throat. Fear swallowed the one seeing eye along with immeasurable anger. Damien cried out, hands wrapped tightly around his neck. He would fall again. No doubt. Perhaps in a week or so. But he would fall again. And that time Alastor would prove that there really was a second death.
Blood stained the floors. Your knees were hugged close to your chest, salty tears burned your eyes. "Is he...dead?" you whispered fearfully. "We're all dead, sweetheart. If you mean erased — then no. He will be back. But when he returns, I will be rid of him for the last time." Blood dripped from the seeing end of his microphone, the orange eye flaming with joy. The corpse of what was Damien was torn to shreds by the shadows, leaving nothing but the bones and skin to rot in your room.
His ruby red eyes met yours, a softness behind them. The smile on his face was awfully forced. He had let it drop in front of the person he hated — though not the most, for that place was reserved for Damien. He let that damned purity get to him. Never in his century of dominating this world had he ever been so...revolted by one's words that he had dropped his smile.
I'm not like him.
No. He wasn't like him at all. Yet the voices kept telling him that he was.
Go and ruin your flesh with those claws. This is Hell. Lucifer gave those to you for punishment. You know that this is your fault. Bury them deep, Alastor. Don't you fucking dare skimp. You DESERVE this.
He couldn't harm himself in front of you though. That wasn't something he would even think about doing. So, of course, he asked the obvious question to prevent himself from doing things he would regret later on.
"I..." He inhaled shakily. "May I stay the night?"
{3040 words}