A/N: The following fanfiction was written before the latest two episodes came out. If the genderbend wasn't a reminder, let this be known this is heavily canon divergent to HB as a whole, and as such should be treated as purely AU.
Heavy warning: there will be implications of sexual assault/minor dubious consent, domestic abuse, child abuse, and general grossness by Paimon. He will get his comeuppance eventually, but the story will unravel in time. Don't worry though, promise all that will be made up with by Al being the best mom to Stolas, Stolitz NOT dealing with drama bullshit getting in the way of them having a relationship, Octavia and Loona being the best daughters/granddaughters, and of course a slow-burn because that's the best type of burn.
I'm also borrowing some songs for other musicals. Will list them below each time they appear. Don't ask why I used some… I just felt like it.
Side note: Lilith is also terrible here, and she owns Alastriona's soul. Lucifer is going to be an asshole, though a lesser extent - unlike Mammon, who is going to be just very bad here.
Paimon doesn't like visiting the pride ring. It's filthy, filled with disgusting peasants – sinners, lowly and vile as imps; hellborns who have no sense of dignity. Overlords are present yet they are still beneath him. But it's business matters. Satan didn't want to attend a meeting with Lucifer and Lilith, having some sort of confrontation prior that left a sour taste in that bull's mouth.
Understandable, quite honestly – Lucifer is a pathetic whelp, and his wife is the mother of all whores. Their love doomed sinners, hellborns, and all of hell from the moment they'd met in that blasted garden. But, then again, Paimon wouldn't have liked to live in heaven or Eden. Disgustingly virtuous. Righteous, unjustly so.
The castle's direction is … quite far. Near the border where angels converge and usually beat on sinners and hellborns. Pathetic place to put your home since separating from your harlot, Paimon thought, but perhaps he was the only smart high-ranking demon around. Hades knows the sins aren't competent outside of perhaps… Satan, and Leviathan. Mammon's a fool, Beelzebub is too carefree, Belphegor is the laziest woman to ever exist – all of them wretches, and he's somehow a lower rank?
He grumbled and moved on, towards the high path. Well, almost there – until a strange sinner got in the way. The owl demon halted, ready to shout at her – to curse her, make her regret inconveniencing him.
Then Paimon's eyes fell upon her, as she turned and looked up at him. A doe of fine red, long and wild hair, soft ears. Dark eyes filled with wonder. Sharp teeth, her mouth stuck in a neverending smile. Adorable tail. Dressed finely, like human women in the Victorian era - at least, from the glimpses he had in his occasional visits.
"Pardon me, monsieur…" her voice was, how to put it, lovely and vixen-like yet filtered by a radio.
It's refined and raw. It's stronger than those meek hens, parrots, doves, ravens, crows, swans and other pitiful bird women he's plowed – the previous egg carriers to his many, many heirs. None of which turned out worthy. Pitiful… but this woman, she looked strong enough. Perhaps.
"Ah, worry not, fair maiden." Paimon waved his hand dismissively. "I was on my way to the Morningstar's palace… but, I think that can wait."
The red doe's ears pricked. "Are you sure?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Of course. What's a meager meeting with another king, compared to spending time with such a...lovely lady?" He held his arm out. "Come, my dear. Let me show you the rest of hell. You will like the wonders of it all." Though not as pretty as her.
"I don't even know your name," said the doe, skeptical.
"Ah, where are my manners..." He bowed to her. "I am King Paimon of the Goetia royals. And you are...?"
"Alastriona Dupuis. A sinner and overlord." She took his arm. "And now, a pleasured acquaintence." She eyed him up and down.
Paimon smirked at this. "Charming, aren't you?" he purred.
Oh yes, this Alastriona girl... she would do nicely. Perhaps, in due time, she could give him an heir. A worthy heir.
Alastriona had never felt so...shy around a man before. The king of the Ars Goetia, though? He makes her feel strangely timid. He's large, so big, and yet she isn't terrified like she had been many times around bigger men.
Paimon was a gentleman. He treated her like she was his equal. That was something most men didn't do. He made her feel special, despite her being a mere sinner compared to his powerful hellborn rank. She was a peasant yet he acted like she was a queen.
How could she not start feeling things for him? Paimon kissed her hand, whispered sweet words. Alastriona never felt so...happy. To be considered beautiful, worthy of a king's time - it was a dream come true.
"I think I love you," he told her, one afternoon. A month into this strange courtship. It was sudden, and her heart beat fast.
"I think I feel the same," Alastriona said quietly. She tilted her head upward as he leaned down. Her eyes closed as his beak touched her lips.
It didn't sting. No poking or piercing. He didn't demand more than a chaste kiss. It felt nice. Her first kiss, and it was a king who wanted her...simply for being her. She almost cried tears of joy.
All the men in her life were shallow. They wanted her for sex or for what she could do in favor for them. They wanted her beauty. They wanted superficial things. Paimon just wanted her love.
Alastriona loved Paimon. She loved him more than she could describe. What a joyous feeling. So much so, she didn't mind when he took her to his home. His castle in the wrath ring. It hadn't been an easy ride. She felt dizzy from the spell he used to ensure she could travel through the rings without restriction. So that she could stay for longer periods of time.
So dizzy, in fact, she let him carry her into the castle himself. He refused the help of an imp butler, stating: "She is my beloved, so I should take care of her." A grin on his face. She thought not much of it.
Up until he laid her on his bed. Kissed her again, a little more passionate. She felt...odd. Strange warmth in a place she never thought would be - she gasped and pulled away.
"Shouldn't we do this...when we're married?" Her voice was hesitant. Her body was acting in ways it shouldn't, a desire new and foreign and horrifying to her.
"There's no sin in having fun," Paimon whispered, nipping her ear. She shuddered under his touch. "And you said you loved me."
Alastriona nodded numbly. "I did, didn't I...?" He kept nibbling at her neck, his feathered hands fumbling with her collar. Her corset. Her clothes were being taken off.
His hands were on her. She didn't resist. The touch wasn't terrible. She didn't hate it. Nor did she hate when he finally entered her, his strange … appendage... in her walls. But she started to reconsider him, a bit. She liked the feeling, sort of, but didn't like … how he took things too quickly. He was slow, but picked up the pace and then suddenly it was rough, uncomfortable, yet she didn't feel so much pain like how Maman would describe it when she had been freshly eighteen. As if to prepare her for this moment, if it'd gone wrong.
Alastriona couldn't describe it, even as it ended. Paimon's flaccid member pulled out of her, along with the remnants of his seed – the rest planted firmly inside her, marking her as his. Owls, in the normal human world she had departed from long ago, didn't do this – she knew that Goetias were not regular owls, but it felt so jarring. It had to be just a fluke, though. A jarring first time. She couldn't let her love for him sway, for if he wanted her virginity… it meant he wanted all of her, no?
Foolish, that's what she was being… it had to be just that.
Paimon pulled her closer to him as they rested in his bed. He kissed her head, gentle. "That was excellent," he told her, sighing, seemingly content. "You held on well for your first, my dear." He hoped it would be enough to secure an heir. "Not a thing to worry about."
He laid back and Alastriona put her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. Slow, steady – she shouldn't worry, like he told her to, yet she did. A part of her felt sullied. It wasn't normal for a woman to give up her virginity before marriage, not in the time she grew up – and she normally wouldn't care about tradition, but here … his disregard for it was alarming. She tried to sleep in his embrace yet felt like a pea beneath a large mattress.
Suffocated.
Paimon proposed to Alastriona approximately five weeks later, after the nightly affair. He presented her with a ring of the finest carnelian. How could she refuse? She had found she was with child, somehow. She believed herself barren until then, for most sinners were sterilized immediately after death – hell's king was sick and cruel, much like most men.
But Paimon seemed like an exception. He offered her so much. Asked for her hand in marriage. Offered her to be his consort. That was so close to being queen. The power she would have, the riches, all of it would be hers and he merely asked for her heart. That she swears to him in body, heart and soul. How could she say no.
Alastriona agreed to the proposal. She was taken to the wrath ring in a carriage, finer than the last. They were married within three days, in a lavish ceremony surrounded by many guests of high noble status, members of the Ars Goetia in both family and in species nobility – and Mammon, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Beelzebub, Leviathan and Lilith. Satan presided as what would be a priest. Except this was an unholy union, so it was the second father of sin. No signs of the first sin, which she would learn later is because Paimon hadn't wanted him present at all. Same thing happened with most of the overlords.
She could have puked all over him as he led her out onto a balcony of the East Wing, looming high over a sea of creatures shifting and stilling at the sight of them. She clutched at his arm as the millions below watched, watched, watched . She couldn't see their faces, but the sheer mass of them made her ill. She didn't feel right, being at the scrutiny of so many. She learned of his reputation, despised by so many in hell for his lineage's uncaring ways of those beneath them. She wanted to change that, to make them see he was the exception to this rule, and her own rules.
It was almost painful, standing just next to him and hand clasped in his as they recited their vows. Her voice shook and her hands quivered as she promised her mind, body, and soul to him for forever. To surrender eternal allegiance to her king husband and to bear his children. To love him, fear him, and do as he said.
She'd soon be a citizen in this terrible beauty of a place. A buzzing sound seemed to grow stronger and stronger in her ears each second that passed and she could barely hear him making his own vows. The whole thing was distinctly bizarre as he promised only to protect and provide for her. Nothing more. Where was the love he had declared only recently?
When Satan himself declared them husband and wife, King and Consort — and this statement rang loudly in her ears, just insane — the crowd vibrated in a wave of noise, their cheers and screams and claps roaring up through the air and hitting her right in the chest.
Alastriona would have stumbled back, but Paimon steadied her. She looked up at him, eyes wet and wide. He smirked at her and chucked her chin.
He brought her to the balcony edge and he waved triumphant out to the crowd. One of his arms held her tight by the waist and she stared down. There was a pair of imps, one a beautiful waif and the other a pathetic whelp. They left almost quickly, disappearing into the crowd. How odd.
The day went on and on, leading into an even more endless night. Festivities and feasts, one after the other, filled with the lords and ladies of the Ars Goetia and general hellish court who shrieked in delight as their king presented his little wife for them to see. She felt vulnerable before them, unsure and frightened by her own life.
Alastriona's gown was constricting around her spine. It was hard to breathe, though maybe that was just her. It was a beautiful dress, she had to admit. The first time she'd seen it, her heart had fluttered. The delicate details, the intricate beading, the silvery-white of it… it reminded her of the gown Rosie had sewn for casual walks all that time ago — a month; it had been so long, she could hardly believe it.
It wasn't the same, though, not in the draping silk material or the loose sleeves that hung just so. It was much more fragile, dainty. Sweet and refined. A gossamer gown for a gossamer lady.
In a great hall, decorated to the nines, Paimon sat with her, both behind a high table laden with gifts and wines as these nobles and sins approached with congratulations, cooing and tutting and huzzah-ing the marriage. They never spoke to her, all focus on the king, unless to stray appraising looks on her.
"She's a pretty one," a parrot demon commented, leering at her.
Paimon just smiled and, with one hand, absently brushed her hair over her shoulder — left long and loose against her back, for fertility , a maidservant had told her. "Isn't she?" he said.
Some of the avian women looked at her with obvious jealousy, eyes cutting. "Well, I suppose you'll have an easy time getting a child on her, won't you, Sire? I heard those sinners can breed like rabbits," a swan said with a disdainful look.
A peacock was delighted about the whole thing. "Congratulations, Your Majesty," he said bowing low, "Your son will be a great King, just like his father, I know it." He didn't even look at her.
There was the rotund Mammon dressed in the most garish clothes Alastriona ever saw. He was the third sin, but not quite as powerful as his fellow 'hellish princes'. Paimon stood to meet him. It had surprised her until he greeted the man so casually. Then she understood. Were there other Goetias who had connections with the Sins, she wondered, casting a glance around and then back to the two before her.
Should she stand too? Someone above Paimon's level… how odd to consider. The jester-like sin's eyes cut toward her suddenly, sharp. She looked down. "Mmm," Mammon said, "Perhaps I'm overly traditional, but I've always been of the opinion that a King should rule with a Queen at his side. Not some glorified whore." He spit the word out as if it tasted of shit.
The doe hadn't heard what Paimon had said in response, for that buzzing sound had come right back in full force.
And, well… she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
Alastriona was humiliated by the end of it, face burning and feeling betrayed. He'd kept her for so long, away for himself and in one day, he'd thrust her forward to be ogled and spoken about as if she wasn't there? How could he let them look at her like that? She got it, she didn't have any power between them, but shouldn't there be a measure of respect? Surely it was warranted for the Goetia king's wife…
How could a child of a king and a woman-conquered be raised in this kind of world where the mother is so disgraced?
It was violating to be examined like she was a shiny new slave. She was his to look at, she knew, not any of theirs. She hated them all. A deplorable, disgusting, hedonistic bunch. She wanted them to die.
The feast was a bit better, rich and decadent plates served by magic. As she toyed with the food on her plate, feeling a little less sick, and a little more calm, Paimon absently twirled a strand of her hair. She couldn't get the feeling of all their eyes off her, but she just focused on her plate.
"I have a gift for you," he caught her attention some time into it.
She set down her fork and glanced at him. He was holding a small wooden box, intricately engraved. He cracked it open, baring the insides to her. Her breath caught in her throat and she leaned in. Was that—?
"A tradition of the Aboveground, I believe," he said. Her eyes flicked up to his. He looked kind, his eyes soft.
The owl demon tugged the necklace — of gold with a beautiful emerald in the middle — out of its brocaded cushion. It was unlike any other. "Another symbol of my love for you." His lips curved as he tucked her hair back, putting the necklace on her neck.
Alastriona admired it for a moment and swallowed past a lump in her throat. "Thank you," she whispered. He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, just above where the wedding ring sat. She blushed and looked away. People had begun dancing in the large hall, in between the tables piled high with food.
"Is the food not to your liking?" he said, hand resting on her thigh. She shrugged.
"Here," he said, passing her a plate, "Try this."
"Okay," she agreed and spooned some onto her plate. It was good, she thought, taking her first bite. It was some sort of desert. Fruity and light, but sumptuous and sweet. Had food ever tasted this good? She couldn't remember.
"Well?" he asked, and his voice was distant in her ear.
She made a muffled noise around a mouthful and nodded enthusiastically, focused almost whole-heartedly on her plate. He patted her leg.
Maybe things could be alright. Alastriona could live like this for a while, though change would come eventually. It had to.
It was just two months after the wedding that they found out the child's gender, laying together on the chaise before the fire one night. She was half asleep, curled into him as he played with his – strange orbs. Looking at something, spying on someone… she wasn't sure.
She felt it vaguely when he twisted closer to her, lowering down and pulling her into him. Alastriona shivered as he ran his hands over her skin, warm and comforting. She shifted and yawned.
Paimon pressed a hand to the doe's belly. He did that sometimes, checking if the child was a boy or girl. In the beginning, it frightened her each time. Just waiting to see: a girl, a future toy to be played with by the regime for its own politics and gains? A boy, a conqueror?
But… she didn't have the energy for it anymore — to freak out each time. It was like her body had removed that response from her… an adaptation to the stress.
She heard him breathe sharply and before she knew it, he was twisting away again. Her eyes opened warily. " Mon amour ?" she mumbled. His ear was pressed to her belly and his hands were tight at her hips.
All traces of fatigue left her when he turned so she could see him, his beak in a terrible smile. Pleased.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted. "No! It can't—!" She sat up and scooted away, frantic.
Alastriona didn't even fight him as he pulled her back down to lie beneath him. She moaned shakily, covering her eyes.
He pulled her hands away and looked in her eyes. His mouth curved. "Sweet Alastriona, you have made me the happiest man from this world to the next. I knew you could do it." He kissed her chin. "The child is a healthy boy."
"Oh… good. I didn't..." She touched the bump. I didn't create another girl who would suffer like I.
"Mmm…" Paimon caught her eyes. His expression was indecipherable. "See that the nonsense doesn't carry on."
Alastriona smiled a strained smile and nodded. She let out a breath when he went to undressing her.
They were past the deadline neither babies before had reached. They'd all been eggs laid, but this child was to be brought from the mother's womb itself, delivered in flesh – perhaps; she hoped it was an owl like its father. The scary marker they had finally conquered. His confidence eased the sorrow in her, the utter fear of losing somehow. The terror that plagued her night and day. It was an edge off of her constant burden. But still… in her mind, she wondered: what if…?
And then… a new sort of fear came. It was happening . It was real. Real like it had never been before. Four months, then five, six, seven, and on and on. The babe grew fast and slow all at once, changing her body and making its space in her. It was coming, whether or not she was ready for it.
She wasn't ready.
How could she be? She was in a still-strange world among still-strange people and about to do something she'd never done before. A big something. A strange thing.
When she was so big she could barely walk, toddling to and from the bathroom at all hours, she would gaze down at herself with fright. It looked like it was about to burst, seeming huge on her thin (stunted) frame. Her body is growing a child.
The promise of pain made her nervous. The stories she'd read… she just wanted it to be over with. To fast forward until after, when the baby was born and in her arms. A zzzzst noise as the TV remote squirreled over all the scenes she didn't like. Even if she loathed modern technology.
But then, the promise of the baby being born, being awake in this world and in her arms… it frightened her too. Would she be a good mom? What if the baby didn't love her? What if he sensed it: what she'd done, what she'd caused…
Sometimes, when she stared down at herself, she could almost see the imprint of those tiny hands pressing out, clawing free.
Paimon's thumb pressed into the arch of her foot, massaging out the tension of the swelling and of all that extra weight. They sat quietly before the fire, her feet in his lap. The thought struck her suddenly. "Oh," she said. It was surprising… how had she never…?
His eyes were on her now and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. The fire's flickering shadows licked darkness over his face.
She pursed her lips and blushed, her toes curling in his hands. "Um… what's your last name?" she asked, feeling a little embarrassed, a little stupid. That was something she ought to know by now. God… if she was married and had a last name she didn't even know about.
"Last name?"
She sighed as he rubbed out a particularly tight spot in her ankle. Then she frowned. "You know… a family name. Like Dupuis."
"Ah," he said. "No. Commoners sometimes do, but not nobility. There's no need. We are simply Goetias."
Some of the tension in her shoulders released. The embarrassment left. But the memory of the sharp prick of it remained. "Really?"
He made a noise of agreement and ran a finger down the bottom of her foot, tickling. She squealed softly and jerked, a little laugh leaving her. He grinned.
"Our titles and holdings differentiate us. They're like family names in that way, I suppose," he added when she still looked at him curiously.
Her lips parted in a slight 'oh' shape. "Guess it makes it easier to name kids then… don't have to make it match with the last name."
"Quite," he nodded.
She touched her belly and looked down. "Do you… do you have any ideas?" she said, "...for the baby? I mean… names?" She flushed again over her stammering.
He tilted his head sideways, observing her. "Yes."
"Oh…?" she said, hoping he'd continue but he never did, just watching her with an amused little smile.
The words were right there on her tongue and her jaw worked, but she couldn't get herself to utter a single one. There was a tightness to her face she couldn't get past. She looked at him, her brow furrowed, uncomfortable in her worried desire to speak.
He could see her struggle, just watching as she battled over it, his hands warming her up.
It took a few minutes for her to work up the courage. "I thought…" she stuttered over it, finally, "I- I… if it's a boy. Can his middle name be Albert?"
Paimon's hand trailed up higher on her leg, rubbing out the muscles in her calf. He tilted his head. "After what your mother wanted?"
Alastriona fiddled with the sleeves of her robe anxiously and nodded.
He caught her eyes. "It's tradition for children to be named only once in this world," he said.
"Oh," she said, looking down fast. She swallowed. "... Right. Sorry."
His hand came off her leg and brushed against her cheek. She looked at him with glossy eyes, embarrassed again. "Dry your eyes, Alastriona mine. Your mother will live in our child in more than just a name."
She tilted sadly into him. "But…the baby…" She breathed out. "He'll never know her, will he?" It hurt to say. The admission seemed too much, too real.
"No," Paimon agreed, "he won't."
As he tugged her into her side, she blinked back her silly, overused tears. Why was she crying, she wondered. What had she expected, anyway? Foolish girl.
She would give birth alone, with only two midwives to help her as she kneeled on all fours on the birthing room bed, screaming herself hoarse and crying out to no one. It was the worst pain she'd ever felt, a tearing, aching, spasming pain she couldn't believe. It made her woozy and it made her sweat, damp hair clinging to her face as she cried and cried and screamed.
It was a long thing. A prolonged pain. Hours and hours of contractions that made her weep alone in the plain room, two strange women watching over her until finally and distressingly, she was ready to go.
The midwives were silent but gentle throughout, one letting her grip onto her hand and the other carefully connecting with the magic of the babe. But Alastriona wanted Paimon there too, to hold her and to hush her. To hold her hand and to soothe her. He'd done this to her. He should be there.
He'd been notified, she knew. The midwives had said. He must be somewhere close, waiting… but he wasn't there. He wasn't with her. And it made it worse. She wanted him so much. The sorrow and the pain and the fear of it all made her shiver and shake as she pushed and tried and hurt and thought she might have died.
It was the hardest thing she'd ever done.
The end came too slow, but when it did, it was all at once. A pressure released and Alastriona sobbed, looking down, frantic, worried the baby would fall hard- against his neck or in a way that hurt. But a midwife was there between her legs already, arms out, prepared to guide the babe as he came out quick.
There was a beat of silence and then… wailing pierced the air.
There were four people in the room now instead of three.
Alastriona could barely handle it as she held herself up, strung tight and worried over the baby crying beneath her. It took all her energy, her eyes scrunched up tight, and her arms and legs shaking. The midwife gathered the little thing up from beneath her and the doe trembled, finally collapsing into the bed, feeling numb and overwhelmed, panting and gasping for breath.
But then… the owlet screeched out a terrible screech and it set her on edge. An impossible rush of strength filled her. Concerned and frantic, she scrambled up to sit, turning to see the babe in the midwife's arms, wailing loudly. Strong.
She could barely believe it. Her baby… she had a baby…She was a mother now.
She was exhausted and deprived and she was tilting sideways against the pillows, but her arms reached out weakly. "Please," she said, watching as the midwife cleaned her baby, wiping him down and checking his health, snipping the cord that connected them.
Alastriona couldn't breathe. A little prince. The little thing was red in the face, bawling and so, so loud. She drank in the sight of him, his little bird self. The way his little beak stretched out, scared in the new world he'd been born into. His little fists and feet curled up and clenched, waving angrily in the air. The little tuft of feathers on his head. She felt the touch of him against her skin, warm and alive and real.
He was the most exquisite thing she'd ever seen. Tears dripped down her cheeks and she pressed her trembling lips against his little forehead, breathing him in. She clutched him to her chest, snug but careful. And she heard him snuffle, a hiccuping cry. He quieted down and she looked at him in wonder as his eyes peeled open.
Red eyes gazed blankly around the room, taking in his world. A shocked little, "Oh," left her as his eyes seemed to track onto her. As his yawning mouth seemed to curve up at the sight of her.
"You're beautiful," she whispered against his hand, laying there and meeting her baby.
"He is, isn't he?"
Her eyes were puffy as she peeled them away from the baby in her arms to see Paimon standing there beside the bed, watching them. He leaned closer and reached out a gentle hand to touch the baby, his hand, his face. He looked so kind, the soft smile on his face, his eyes transfixed on their… their son.
Hands gentle, he helped her shift to lean up against the headboard properly. Even as her body cried out in their aftershocks, she hardly noticed, too taken by the little boy in her arms. He sat beside her on the soiled bed, the side of him warm against her.
"May I?" he asked, holding out his hands. She trembled but nodded and he softly urged the baby from her arms, tugging him to his chest like she herself had done, holding him tight and snug. She smiled down at the snuffling babe and started to sing, a soft little lullaby of hums and sighs.
"My son, my son,
You are my shining son.
My moon, my stars,
My clear blue daylight sky…"
Alastriona reached out and tickled the baby boy's little palm, heart bursting when his little fingers wrapped around one of her own. Love burst in her as the baby's eyes fluttered and closed, his little fist clutching at her finger. She was vibrating with it all as she rested her head on Paimon's shoulder, looking, seeing this… the most remarkable thing she'd ever seen.
"Did you decide on a name?" she asked, voice cracking in her throat.
He was silent for a while, both of them looking upon their slumbering baby boy, considering. Eventually, he murmured: "Stolas."
"Stolas," she sounded it out, whispering it. "Our son, Stolas."
Paimon smiled again. "Our son." He looked at her, eyes catching hers. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'm proud of you, precious thing," he said, shifting Stolas closer between them. "You did so well."
She was exhausted and pained and drained. She was relieved. She was pleased and she was proud and she was overjoyed. Her baby boy. She'd finally reached the scene she'd been waiting for. Everything would be perfect now.
Tried capturing the feeling of an infatuation mistaken for love in Al's eyes, and the betrayal that builds up along with the unhealthy relationship. It's doomed from the start. Paimon's probably a worse father than Cash here, but AU purposes...
SONG FEATURED:
"My Son", sung by David Bradley originally in Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio (which is on DVD in criterion or Netflix if you like streaming or physical media)
It was kind of a hyped up film in 2022, but got overshadowed by "Puss in Boots" and other animated shows at the time. The songs get criticized a lot since the film's about war and "why is an adult animated film so whimsy" but I liked the musicals, honestly. Especially this song. Reminded me of when I was little and my mom sang to me. Expect some songs from this film to pop up, and maybe Jafar's song reprise from 1992 Aladdin since…same voice actor as Paimon.