Chapter Text
You walked, arm wrapped around Alastor’s. Your fingers pinching the fabric of his jacket as you walked, heels clocking as you made your way down the sidewalk. There was a bright smile on your face as you spotted the hole in the wall stall selling flowers, pulling the tall man in red along with you to look at them. His ear twitched at your delight over the floral arrangements, though his smile remained unchanged, eyes bored as they scanned the offerings passively.
Your fingers ran over the silken petals of the arrangement closest to you while your eyes bounced from one bunch of flowers to another. They were all beautiful, some unlike anything seen in life. Others would have looked at place in any garden you’d walked through in your childhood.
“Would you like that one, Cher?” Alastor leaned down and spoke directly into your ear, though his voice was loud enough the shopkeeper behind the stall could hear his words. For you it was an offer, for the shopkeeper though? It was an order.
“Oh!” You hadn’t intended for him to get you anything, for him to scare the shopkeeper but it was too late for that. Static weighed heavy in the air as his red eyes turned from the flowers to the shop keeper. His smile was a little wider than it should have been, growing with the implied order dressed as an offer.
“No charge!” the man, shaking so violently that you could hear his bones clicking together over the sound of the beads on your dress jostling in the hot breeze, clinking with every shift of your body. “They’re a gift for the lady!”
“Oh, dear!” You squeaked slightly as the bunch of flowers, rose like but very clearly not the roses you once knew, were shoved into your hands. “Thank you.” The man stepped back as you smiled at him.
Alastor offered a nod to the man, slight and subtle as you turned from the stand. “Have a lovely day.”
It was near time for dinner and while you appreciated the work of the shadow imps that were back at your home, stirring the pot and keeping the fire in the stove lit, there was something you still held dear about finishing the preparations of a meal yourself.
You ignored the way the salesman’s knees knocked together, the way his voice stuttered. The metal door to the shop window rolled down, blocking the rest of the flowers from browsing, let alone purchase. He’d had enough after what surely felt like a close call with the radio overlord.
You didn’t look back at the sounds.
It wasn’t the first time it happened. It wouldn’t be the last time.
It was better to just ignore those sounds, to pretend you couldn’t feel the fear radiating off of others as they dealt with your partner.
Alastor was a powerful man and the recognition of that power was ever growing. He had not wasted time making a place for himself in hell, and through is work, a place of note for you as well. You were sheltered from much of the horrors of hell by his power, passing your days in a place of peace where the horrors existed largely just outside of the scope of your awareness..
Your smile faded slightly when someone ran across the street as soon as their eyes landed on the two of you walking down the sidewalk, leaning into Alastor’s side. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close as you focused more on admiring your flowers than the people trying to decide what sort of mood the Radio Demon was in.
You’d learned over the years to ignore it when people ran the other way. You looked the other way as they slammed doors closed. At least when you stayed in Alastor’s territory or within Rosie’s, people didn’t run from Alastor… most of the time. In those places, you could go out with him and be treated almost normal.
If Alastor was in a good mood or on the rare occasion when you stepped out alone.
But outside of those areas or when Alastor was in a poor mood, when he’d gone hunting the night before, you did your best to look the other way as people ran and hid. You got good at looking the other way, just as you looked the other way when Alastor grew larger than life and swallowed the bodies of sinners that crossed his path whole, or when he ripped sinners limb from limb, ripping the flesh from their bones with nothing more than his teeth.
It was easier to pretend it wasn’t people he was eating when they didn’t look like he did. Or like you.
The deer like creatures he hunted were far easier to stomach. Alastor looked like a deer in a lot of ways but he wasn’t a deer, he was a man, a sinner. The deer was an animal. It was hell born. No human soul and not aware of any cognitive thought, as much as you could gather.
You’d eat the deer and meats you purchased however it would be a lie of you didn’t hesitate for a few years when meats you didn’t know showed up on your plates. You would close your eyes and take a deep breath and then take a bite.
It didn’t matter what it was. It was food. And Alastor provided it for you.
Alastor ensured that no matter what, you had what you needed. His power was vast and quickly growing. He rose through the ranks of hell’s overlords and each expansion of his power, his influence, meant you were safer.
Hell was a dangerous place.
“Is there anything we need before we head home?” Alastor’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.
“I don’t think so,” you smiled up at him, catching his smile turn smaller, realer than the grin that was permanently etched on his face. That’s all it took to melt ghosts of worries from your mind and make your undead heart flutter.
All that mattered at the end of the day was that you loved Alastor and he loved you. You’d given up everything to be with him and it was worth it. It may have killed you but it was worth it.
Alastor hummed as he stirred the pot on the stove. It didn’t need much attention, his shadow imps did a good enough job keeping it at a low simmer all day but you were not going to say anything.
It was these moments of simple domestic peace that you clung to.
They reminded you of the moments you shared in life.
If you just ignored all the things that were different about it now, you could believe it was just another day in the life you were promised.
Except it was different. You wore dresses that clung to your curves, some covered in beads, some long and comfortable around the house. The fire in the stove was cold green, not the warm yellow and red you were used to.
You never could figure out exactly what fueled the stove. After the first year, you stopped trying to figure it out, deciding it was Alastor’s power and hopefully nothing else. If something else was burning in your stove, you didn’t want to know.
Alastor’s power wasn’t something you well understood.
An icy chill wrapped around your shoulders as you kneaded the bread one last time. A pressure rested on top of yours, nestled between the twisted branches of your horns, watching as you shaped the loaf and placed it into the pan.
You didn’t have to look to know it was Alastor’s shadow.
While Alastor was as reserved in death as he was in life, the shadow extension of him was much more animated. Perhaps it was because it had no voice.
“Will you be a dear and put this in the oven?” You lifted the pan slightly, passing it off to the black shadow hands.
You watched as he traveled through the air with it, somehow both three dimensional and yet flat.
It confused you, though you were fond of it. Was he a part of Alastor or his own independent being? Alastor didn’t seem to have total control over it but it did seem to do as he said, react and understand Alastor’s thoughts and intentions.
When you would ask Alastor, it was one of the things he often brushed off. His answer was simple, “It’s my shadow.” but he would never elaborate.
As you cleaned the flour from the counter, Alastor mixed the starch into a slurry, preparing to finish off the stew as the bread baked.
“You look radiant, Cher.” Alastor’s words, naked of static and accent broke the silence that you’d been working in, listening to the music.
A flush ran up your chest, coloring your pale swamp green cheeks. It had taken a long while to get used to what you’d become. There were many times the insecurity of your new shape, new body and it’s slightly too long limbs brought you to tears.
After a while, with his reassurance, you grew used to your form just as he promised you would.
“Al,” you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered.
This wasn’t what you expected life with Alastor to be like but in so many ways, it was everything you pictured. Alastor’s love and affection, his out of character support and devotion, none of that was any different now than it was when you had begun to fall in love with him.
“I’ll be broadcasting tonight,” Alastor said as he passed the wet bowl to you after rinsing it in clean water.
“Your normal show?” you asked as you ran the dry dish cloth over the surface. “Or?”
“It’ll be most exciting after ten,” he answered.
For him it would be exciting. For you, it would send shivers down your spine if you didn’t turn off the broadcast before he began that segment. Of course, you had the option to turn off the broadcast. So many others on this level of hell didn’t have the option of turning it off.
You enjoyed listening to his broadcasts earlier in the night or when he would chatter through the day. It was refreshing to hear the latest gossip and news from around the pride ring, music from up above and new bands from around the city, all provided with Alastor’s unique brand of unhinged sassy commentary.
It reminded you of nights spent in your home or even in your rented room, listening to Alastor’s voice as you dreamt of what the future would hold. It was comforting… as long as you didn’t listen too closely.
Because, if you did, they were there, even during this calmer part of the broadcasts. You hated the sound of them. They were that part of Alastor that reminded you of red. Red hands. Red sleeves. Dried. Flaking red.
Red that you knew now was human blood. Red that made you question what would have happened if you didn’t kiss Alastor that morning.
It was the sounds of screams. Under the sound of Alastor’s voice, behind the music, was the sound of screams. Painful screams. Screams that sounded like the color red.
What happened to the souls Alastor consumed? You hadn’t gotten brave enough to ask him.
“Will you be heading up soon?” you asked instead of thinking about the color that surrounded Alastor. It was his favorite color. How fitting it was that he ended up being sent to a realm that embodied that color.
He hummed for a moment, a flat tone that sounded almost like static before he spoke, “After a dance with my darling.”
You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out from between your dark lips as he held a clawed hand out to you in invitation. You slipped your long fingers into his palm, letting him wrap your hand up in his grasp.
He pulled you to him, wrapping an arm around your lower back as you rested your free hand against his chest. His shadow on the wall moved independent of him, switching the record to something slower.
He danced with you like he had so many times in life and in death. It was these moments that made you feel more loved than anything else he could do.
“I love you,” you said as the music and his steps slowed to a stop.
“And I, you,” Alastor said, stepping back. Instead of letting go of your hand, he brought it up to his lips and placed a soft, nipping kiss to the back of your knuckles.
“Is there anything you need before I head up for the night?” Alastor asked, as he always did before he left you alone.
“Just one more kiss,” you smiled as you delivered him the same answer you always did.
He laughed, the sound free and easy as you pulled him to you, throwing your arms around his neck for one last parting kiss. Static caressed your skin, making the hair at the back of your neck stand on end as you tried to ignore it, ignore the torture that was soon to befall some poor soul.
It was alright. They deserved it. Alastor only killed those who deserved it. His actions may have sent him to hell but in your heart, you knew the man you loved was a good man.
Your love for Alastor may have doomed you to hell but as long as you had his love, you could find heaven in hell. All you had to do was accept Alastor as he was.