A/N: Prompt by Ametan:
Shitty theme park beignets

This chapter happens after they got together but before they leave the hotel. This is one of their days off; Alastor now purposefully takes more vacation time than before and always has them be on Husk's first day off so they can do something together~

Husk was regretting most of his life choices.

Why in the name of all things okay-ish had he let Alastor drag him to a theme park, out of all places? He hated the large crowds of people. He loathed the loudass fucking noises. He didn't "enjoy the atmosphere" like some people. He didn't even like the rides, for fuck's sake! So why?

"Husker, look! Another person fell off that ride!" Alastor said excitedly, looking like a kid in a candy shop while pointing at a demon who had been violently flung from a poorly constructed ride and was currently writhing on the ground, clutching their arm in obvious pain. The safety measures truly sucked in this place, enough fucking said – that was Hell for you, folks.

Husk, however, paid little attention to the poor bastard in pain, as his eyes were glued on Alastor's illegally adorable expression of pure glee and excitement. This theme park was so shitty that Alastor didn't even have to lift a finger for someone to get hurt or for something interesting to happen, so he was in a constant state of happy anticipation and practically skipping while he walked.

Yeah, that was why. Fuck damn it, Husk was way too smitten with this sadistic jackass.

"I hope you weren't expecting to drag me on any of the fucking rides, as now I'm even more disinclined to do that than I already was", Husk grumbled, which earned him a laugh from Alastor.

"Of course not, darling! If I wanted to ride those contraptions, I would have asked Niffty to accompany me", Alastor said jovially, squeezed the paw he was holding, and then turned to look in the direction of the next panicked scream piercing the air.

Husk rather thought that Niffty had dodged a bullet there, considering how many people were flung or dropped from or crushed by the unsafe rides. Then again, Alastor would probably protect the two of them, so maybe it wouldn't be that bad. Still, Husk would absolutely not be volunteering himself for such torture anytime soon. If he wanted to go fast and defy death, he would simply fly as high up as he could and let himself fall freely most of the way down. Now that he thought about it, Alastor would probably love that as well, so maybe they should do it together sometime.

He smiled to himself at the thought, and then blinked and looked around curiously as the smell of grease and burnt sugar reached his nose. Their random wandering had taken them near the food stalls, apparently. Hmm, he could actually go for a hot dog or something. Alastor would turn his cute pointy nose up at the barely edible garbage for sure, but that would be his loss.

He tugged at Alastor's hand to get his attention.

"Hey. Feed me", he said, and pointed at the stalls. Alastor looked at them and his eyes narrowed, his grin tightened, and his nose crinkled so fucking adorably that Husk was hard pressed to refrain from kissing it – he knew Alastor really wouldn't appreciate it at the moment.

"...If you're sure", Alastor said, sounding resigned and disapproving, but walked over with him anyway. Hah, this proved beyond any doubt that the bastard loved him in his own way.

However, their plans to purchase food came to a sudden halt the moment they were close enough to look at the selection and they saw Them.

There was a platter of greasy, soggy, sugar-clumped lumps that were labeled as "beignets". Husk wouldn't have been able to connect them with the perfect squares of deliciousness that Alastor occasionally made for him if they didn't have the damning label.

Alastor's expression went blank as he stared at them, and Husk could already see where this would go. There was no fucking way Alastor could look at something from his own culture be mutilated that badly and let it slide.

Husk carefully pulled his paw free from Alastor's grip and took a few of steps back, keeping a perfect poker face all the while.

Alastor's grin turned dangerous as he leaned against the least grease-stained spot on the stall and snapped his fingers to get the stallkeeper's attention. "Excuse me, my good sir. Are you the person who made these… questionable confections?"

The demon – looked to be some kind of a bug, but that's about the extent of what Husk could identify – turned to give Alastor a haughty look. "Hey man, that's hella racist. My great grandma was from Louisiana – that's where beignets are from you know – so these are totally authentic. Piss off if you're not gonna buy some."

What was it that kids these days, like this idiot here, did in situations like this? ...Oh, right. Popcorn; Husk wished he had some. The irony that this stall actually sold it was not lost on him.

Alastor's smile widened and his shadow rose from the ground to drape itself over his shoulders to smile gleefully at the moron, who was obviously not familiar with the Radio Demon as he wasn't running for the hills already. Some of the other people nearby were, in fact, making themselves scarce. Potentially a smart move. "Oh? Did you visit New Orleans often when you were still topside?"

Husk took a couple of more steps back, just to be safe.

"What? Psh, why would I wanna do that? Never been."

Yep. Kid was dead.

Alastor laughed and peeled himself off the stall. "I figured as much! It really shows, my brave boy-o! Here, let me give you an example of true New Orleans culture."

Alastor snapped his fingers and a bunch of his freaky voodoo shadow minions appeared inside of the stall, finally frightening the poor fool properly.

Husk averted his eyes and flattened his ears just as the screaming and ripping sounds started. At least it was just the one guy this time.

When things finally quieted, Alastor stepped up beside him, holding a tray. It had a bag of fries, a hot dog on a cardboard plate, a bottle of beer, two lidded cups that smelled like coffee, a mysterious take-away box that was slowly turning red at the bottom – which Husk made the deliberate decision to exclude from his reality – and a pile of napkins.

"That stall turned out to be better than expected!" Alastor said cheerfully. "Let's find ourselves a table and have a snack!"

Well then. He got what he wanted. Now he just had to make sure to look the fuck away while Alastor ate his own surprise meal.

Fucking theme parks.