A/N: Prompt by Deskdraik:
well, I need a multilingual Husk, in which Alastor wants information of a guy for a revenge, and Husk is the type that can do it.
This is set after they leave the hotel, but before Alastor proposes. Yes, despite the fact that he calls Husk his husband here; we already know that he did that for a while before remembering that one needed to be married for the term to be legit.
Alastor squinted his eyes at the bound stork demon in front of him in frustration. No matter what he did or said, the damned critter refused to talk. Or so he had thought for the first hour of torture, until the squirming sinner finally started singing. However, unfortunately for him, it was in a language he couldn't understand and didn't recognize. Not that he was very well versed in the art of languages, but at least he could have worked with French, and taken a stab at the languages that were close to it. But no. Gibberish. Absolute gibberish.
He couldn't torture information out of someone he couldn't understand. Or he could, but it would be more for the fun of it than of any actual use, and he had stopped having fun approximately five minutes ago, when he finally accepted that this sinner was more than willing to talk, but simply couldn't speak any language he could understand. That knowledge certainly worked wonders in killing the mood.
Pardon his lack of manners, but this was complete bushwa. This was Hell. Everyone who landed here was gifted with the ability to speak the common Devilish, and thus everyone understood one another as long as they didn't purposefully speak another language.
Except for, apparently, this loathsome waste of space. What was up with that? Why was this sinner unable to speak anything other than-
Wait.
Oh. Oh, he got it.
Alastor yanked the shaking stork closer by one of the hooks attached to her skin, making her shriek in pain and beg in whatever that language was.
"Oh, do be quiet, dear. I'm quite tired of my inability to understand you", Alastor said with a sharp grin, and grabbed a rough hold of her beak. He wrenched her jaw open and pulled at her tongue to have a look at the back of it. There. A sigil that rendered her unable to speak anything other than her mother-tongue.
He sighed in frustration and let her drop to the floor without a care.
Sigils like that could only be removed by cutting out the tongue. That would render her completely incapable of speech for as long as it took for the muscle to grow back, and Alastor knew from experience – a fond memory, that – that it took anywhere from three days to a week for that to be accomplished.
He didn't want to wait for a week; he had a revenge to exact. So, he had to work around this.
He tapped his chin with a finger while he thought.
He needed someone who spoke that language, whatever it was. But who? It was not Spanish or Italian, he knew that much, so that rendered a couple of his… acquaintances useless. It was not Russian, he had heard Husker-
Hold on. Husker.
His wonderful husband spoke multiple different languages! Alastor honestly didn't know how many or what all of the languages were, other than Russian, Italian and Spanish – Russian was very prominent on Husker's book collection, and the other two Alastor could recognize when the absolutely hilarious multilingual bouts of swearing happened at times. He also knew Husker was learning French because he was the sweetest, most adorable darling who wanted to understand Alastor at all times.
Alastor took a moment to smile fondly at the memory of Husker working through a French learning exercise book with a look of total concentration while his coffee got cold on the side of the table.
Yes, he needed Husker here. Not only would be probably recognize the language, but there was a good chance he also spoke it. That, and now that Alastor had thought of him, he really craved some warm cuddles to make up for the now lukewarm torture.
He brought his microphone near his mouth and mentally switched his channel to the familiar frequency of Husker's home radio. "Husker, my sweetheart? Are you busy?"
It didn't take long for the answer to be heard; out loud from the microphone, since he wished it so.
"Not particularly, no. Why?"
Alastor's grin widened in anticipation. "Swell! You'll see!"
He snapped his fingers and his dearest kitty cat appeared by his side. He wasted no time wrapping both arms tightly around Husker's fluffy shoulders and nuzzled the side of his soft ear. Now this was more like it.
Husker tensed at first – poor dear may not have expected to be transported – but then relaxed and leaned into the embrace. Alastor's smile widened and he sighed in contentment. Warm and soft, just how he liked it.
And then Husker tensed up again. "What the- Al, what the hell is this? Who is that? What the fuck?"
Oh. Right. The worthless critter was still there and this wasn't actually about cuddles. Although if she cooperated, this could very well be both a cuddling and an interrogation session. Husker could talk and cuddle at the same time as long as the silly stork didn't force Alastor to bring the pain again. Husker didn't like that kind of a thing much, which was truly a shame as a pinch of screaming and sobbing would have really made the moment.
"She's nobody important", Alastor answered, and smoothed Husker's chest fur idly. "She does, however, have information I want, but she's currently unable to speak any languages I can understand. I was hoping you might be able to help me out, ma moitié multilingue."
Husker was quiet for a moment, but at least the worst of the tension left. Alastor considered summoning a couch for them to get comfortable on when Husker interrupted his thought-process.
"Okay, three things. Firstly, what language does she speak? Secondly, could you make her… less fucking disturbing? That sight is really starting to turn my fucking stomach, and you're clearly no longer interested. Thirdly, I'm not drunk enough for this bullshit."
Alastor rolled his eyes and summoned a folding partition screen to separate the two of them from his victim. He also summoned a couch and started tugging Husker in its direction. "I don't know. It seems she might understand English even though she can't speak it, so just ask her."
Husker groaned, but let Alastor guide him to sit down anyway, and accepted the bottle of strong double IPA. "Hey bitch! Say something!"
His interrogation methods left a lot to be desired, but Alastor supposed he could always make the hooks pull her into every which direction again if necessary, although Husker would probably disagree with it.
Thankfully, she answered in hesitant gibberish, and from the way Husker's ears perked up he either understood or at least recognized it. Excellent!
"Mandarin, huh?" Husker said, wrapped an arm around Alastor, and took a drink. "I can work with this. Tell me, Al, what do you want to know?"
Alastor grinned and made himself comfortable at Husker's side. Finally, things were working out.
A/N: Ma moitié multilingue = my multilingual other half.