[Content Warning: Spice and Mentions of Sexual Assault. A TLDR has been provided at the end of the chapter for those who want to skip the graphic paragraphs but continue the story.]

'Alastor' and 'wholesome' were not two things that were frequently thought of together, but there were very few other ways to describe the way he behaved around his holy lover. He did the typical gentlemanly things he'd been doing before, but now he publicly held her hand, played footsie with her under the table, kissed her every chance he got, and openly told her how much he loved her. When she was around, he was almost adorable.

It made Vox want to vomit. He'd been forced to watch their sickening displays of adoration from his spy cameras while he stalked them. He hated them. He hated them so damn much. He'd make his move soon, he just needed to find a vulnerable moment. And the photoshop had to be perfect.

While Vox plotted creepily in the dark, Marcel smuggled a snake into Hell. Frankly, it wasn't that hard. Sir Pentious just sort of tagged along, and no who saw them cared. Angels could generally do whatever they wanted.

Charlie was the one to answer the door. The shock and joy in her eyes at seeing Pentious again was palpable. "Holy shit! Oh my God, Pentious, I've missed you so much!"

Pentious offered her a friendly smile, "It's good to sssee you, too. How is Key-Key?"

Charlie nearly tackled him to the ground in a big bear hug. They held each other with all the love of two long-separated friends. Charlie honestly thought she'd never see him again. "I am so proud of you!" she said, "I just knew you'd be redeemed. I'm so glad you blew up our wall."

"I could do it again, if that would make you happy," he joked.

Charlie laughed into his shoulder. He sounded so much happier. She could hear it in his voice. She hugged him tighter, not wanting to let go. He wrapped his wings around her comfortingly. He had wings. He'd earned wings!

Marc watched them, grinning. The Redeemed all only ever had positive things to say about their princess. They loved her, and Marc got to hear all about it. His interactions with Charlie might be limited, but he felt like he knew her rather well by now. From what he'd heard, he couldn't blame his friends for being grateful to her.

Letting them have their moment, Marcel stepped carefully around Charlie and entered the Hazbin Hotel to deliver that week's mail. He found Elida leaning against the wall by her brewing corner, arms around Alastor's neck, kissing him passionately. Marc shocked himself by being completely unbothered by it. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it coming, and if he was honest, he'd been spending more time thinking about Mayberry than Elida lately.

He realized he was officially, peacefully, over her. All these years of pining, and it was finally done. She was his friend, and nothing else. It was rather freeing. And it was good to see her happy; they were clearly neck-deep in their honeymoon phase. It was cute.

Smile widening, Marcel cleared his throat, amused at how they were ignoring the world. The distracted couple broke away and looked at him. Alastor seemed annoyed that Marc had the audacity to exist.

"Do you mind?"

"Sorry to interrupt," Marc said with laughter in his voice, "But I have a few things for you. And," he added, "Sir Pentious has something to tell you."

"Pentious?" Elida asked, "He's here with you?"

"Off being crushed to death by Charlie," he explained, reaching into his messenger bag. "You won't be surprised to hear I have about a million bouquets and love letters for you. What do you want with them?"

"Return to sender," Alastor answered for her.

"No," Elida said, "I need them so I can have a list of who to tell to stop."

"Fair enough." Alastor pulled her chin back toward him and kissed her again.

Jono shouted, "Get a room!" from the bar.

Marc stood there, arms crossed and waiting. He wondered how long they'd ignore him if he just stared at them for a while. He counted in his head; thirty-three seconds. Eventually, Elida started laughing, "Oh for Pete's sake, Marc, stop that!"

He shook his head, "I'm not doing anything, Sweet-Stuff, just waiting for you to finish up." He checked his wrist, pretending to look at a watch that wasn't there.

Elida was surprised at the teasing in his voice. He didn't seem upset. If anything, he sounded like he was poking fun at them. She loved that. It meant he wasn't freaking out on her. She'd have been sad if he'd gotten upset and decided to stop bringing the mail each week.

She smirked at him. "You know," she mused, stepping away from Alastor and circling around Marc like a raptor, "Am I crazy, or did I see you chatting up a pretty little blondie during the party last week?"

Marcel shrugged cheekily, "You might be crazy. You might not. Or both." He tapped his chin, "No, definitely both."

She ruffled his silky hair, "Anything you want to tell me?"

"Heyy," he laughed, "Stop that!"

She grabbed his ear, "You and I are going to have a little girl talk." She winked at Alastor and dragged Marcel away. He protested, pretending to struggle in her grip, but following her willingly. Alastor's eye twitched at the interruption, but he didn't stop them. He didn't view Marc as any kind of threat, so he sat down to read the morning paper. Still no news on the assassin.

A few minutes of cheerful catching up later, and Pentious approached Alastor. "Hello, Mr. Radio Demon, Ssir."

"Do I know you?" Alastor snarked, not looking up from his paper.

"Oh, pleasse," Pentious rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the jab. "I need to speak with you and Misss Elida."

"Hm." He sounded as bored as a rock.

"About the assassssin."

Now that got his attention. Alastor looked up, eyebrows raising in interest. "Oh? Do tell."

"Where iss Elida?"

"Interrogating the poor mailman, I expect." Alastor turned the page and returned to his paper. "Interrupt at your own risk."

Pentious chose to interrupt. Elida was practically bouncing in delight as Marc told her about a date he'd been on, and how sweet Mayberry was being to him. She was both thrilled to have Marcel off her back, and ecstatic that things were going so well for him. He deserved to be happy.

"Have you kissed her?" She asked, "I bet she'd let you!"

"No," Marc admitted, "We're still getting to know each other."

"Good idea," she approved.

"Excusse me," Pentious interjected, "But might I have a word with you and Alasstor?"

"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," Elida greeted, "Yeah, sure."

She followed him into the other room where Alastor sat, and settled in next to him. He kept reading his paper, but draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her just a little closer to his side. He was so warm. When they were settled, Pentious took a seat across from them and chose to drop the news quickly before he could chicken out.

"I know who tried to kill you," he said.

Alastor put the paper down. Elida was caught off guard, and the memory of the attack flashed into her mind. It made her feel very small and very weak. She trembled a bit, nestling closer to Alastor for comfort. He squeezed her arm imperceptibly, letting her know she wasn't alone. He was there. She was safe.

"Go on," she said, facing turning blank and unreadable.

"It wass Lute. Adam's Lieutenant from the exorcist army."

That made a lot of sense, but Alastor needed proof. "And what makes you so sure of that, hmm?"

"Well, I… uh…" Pentious felt very awkward. He cleared his throat, "Ehem. It's becausse I'm the one who gave her the arm."

They both stared at Pentious for a long time. He folded his arms protectively around himself. "I am ssorry," he said pathetically, "I was trying to do something nicce, but it just ended up-"

"It's not your fault," Elida interrupted matter-of-factly.

"I disagree," Alastor snarled. "You don't need to coddle his little feelings, dearest."

"No," Elida said, "It's not about that." She turned to Pentious and offered him a reassuring smile. "Look, this was a targeted attack. If… Lute, was it?"

"Yess."

"If Lute was out to kill me, she would have done it with or without the metal arm. Sure, she used it, and it sucked, but she just as easily could have brought something else with her. The way I see it, the fact that you gave her the arm was a good thing."

"How do you figure that?" Pentious looked lost.

"An artifact that unique is easy to trace. If she'd used something more generic, like a gun or a spear, we'd have had no way of knowing who she was. If anything, you've saved us a big headache. So, I guess I should be thanking you." That last part really was just to coddle his little feelings. The poor thing looked so upset and guilty.

"You'll do no such thing," Alastor said to her, smiling like he was ready to skin Sir Pentious alive.

"Be at peace, Allie," Elida kissed his temple, tempering is anger a bit. "We can use this."

"Use thiss?" Pentious stared incredulously, "Use this how?"

"I need a test subject," she said vaguely, "And now that we know who the assassin is, we can set a trap for her."

"A tessst subject for what, exactly?"

"Don't worry about it," Elida waved him off, before standing up and pulling Alastor off the couch with her, "Excuse us, would you?"

If Pentious had had more time to get to know Elida, he may have been far more nervous about that comment than he was. As it was, he put it out of his mind and returned quietly to Heaven with Marc. Alastor, on the other hand, was excited to see what chaos was brewing in her mind.

Unfortunately, as much as she wanted to tell him all about her idea, she couldn't. Not yet. Not because she didn't trust him, but because it could compromise the whole thing. Still, she wished that weren't the case. She wanted his opinion and ideas. But they'd discuss it after. And if he was angry at her for keeping it secret, she'd apologize and tell him all about why. He'd understand eventually.

At least he could help her with the trap.

Not long after Pentious's visit, it came time for Rosie's annual ball. Alastor once again pulled out all the stops, bringing in a whole crew of stylists and spa staff to pretty them both up. Charlie and Vaggie decided to sit it out, still a bit embarrassed about how they'd been found the year prior.

"You know," Elida said behind her cucumber slices, "This is our first big public event as a couple."

"We both know we've been a couple far longer than even we've admitted," Alastor commented, munching on a fresh grape.

"Sure," Elida agreed, "But in an official capacity. It's a great way to showcase the political progress we've achieved so far, don't you think? Tonight needs to go well."

"Which is why I've chosen a rather special coat for today," he said cryptically.

"Special how?"

"It matches your dress."

"But my dress is blue?"

"It sure is." Alastor could feel the hairstylist's shaking fingers as they applied a temporary dye to his hair. "You wore my colors last year," he explained, "so this year I'm wearing yours."

"I love you so much," Elida cooed.

"I love you too, dearest," he squeezed her hand softly. The stylists all suddenly felt a little less scared of him.

As soon as Hell's famous power couple exited the hotel doors, Vox was watching. He glowered, pissed off that Alastor could pull off blue better than he could. He was such a pretentious prick. He couldn't wait to wipe that stupid grin off his face.

Vox was getting hard just thinking about how thoroughly he'd destroy that smiling freak. Almost time, now… He could hardly stand it.

[SPICE & S.A. WARNING BEGINS]

To pass the time, Vox stared hungrily at the glitching spy cam images of blue Alastor dancing gleefully with his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. The Radio Demon had no right to be that fucking hot. Vox hoped Elida killed him after this. She could if she wanted; she had the power. The violent image in his head was just too good, so Vox unzipped his pants and stuck his hand into his underwear. He stroked, slowly at first, then picking up speed as his blood began flowing.

"FUuUuUck…" He growled to the empty room as he pleasured himself to the thought of Alastor being publicly humiliated.

Even though showing PDA at formal events was a bit of a faux pas, Alastor dipped Elida to the ground and pressed his lips to hers, holding her firmly in his arms as they paused their waltz to publicly show off. God, Vox wished he were her right now. He'd shove his tongue down Alastor's throat and choke him to death.

"Mnh…" he moaned as the thought sent a wave of pleasure through his body. The Radio Demon really did it for him.

Vox pictured tying that asshole up in chains and forcing him to lick his balls. He throbbed, visualizing Alastor sucking him off while trying desperately to escape his chains. Then he imagined Elida joining them, straddling his screen while Vox licked her cunt. He wondered what angel pussy tasted like. Maybe he'll find out after tonight. He could be the rebound. Brokenhearted women could get pretty horny, or so he'd heard.

He climaxed, crying out Alastor's name like a curse and making a mess all over his own hand. Sighing in satisfaction, Vox leaned back in his chair and took a few deep breaths, enjoying the lingering throb of a good hand job.

[SPICE WARNING ENDS. TLDR: While he spies on Alastor and Elida as they dance at the ball, Vox masturbates to the thought of raping Alastor and having a threesome with Elida. He plots to break them up, but doesn't say how.]

"Fuck you, you furry bitch." Even Vox wasn't sure if he meant Alastor or Elida. Probably both. He hated them. He couldn't wait to be done sucking her holy clit. As soon as he got what he wanted he'd burn that stupid soup kitchen to the ground and let Valentino fuck her in the ass on camera for all of Hell to see. He'd send Alastor photos of himself shoving his dick down Elida's sobbing throat while he held her leash.

Erection properly taken care of, Vox turned his attention back to the spy cameras. The ball was in full swing, now. There were plenty of witnesses. Elida looked happy and in love. Alastor stared adoringly into her eyes while they danced. It was like a fairy tale.

Time to fuck it up.

He pressed 'run' on the code he'd written just for this.

Every phone, tablet, and computer screen in Hell flashed, a big "BREAKING NEWS" pop-up interrupting everyone's usual afternoon porn. Demons grumbled and glared, but the pop-up wouldn't go away until they clicked on it and scrolled through the entire article. Confused cannibals stopped dancing, looking around in bewilderment before the ones that carried devices pulled their buzzing phones from their pockets. The ones without phones looked over their colleagues' shoulders curiously.

Each of them clicked the non-optional button, and whispers broke out among the party guests. They all looked disapprovingly at Alastor, who smiled the way he always did. He didn't carry a phone. If he had, he'd have taken Elida's hand and tried to talk to her before she ran off. But he didn't. So, he was caught by surprise when she backed away from him, visible hurt in her eyes.

A cannibal with guts of steel snapped at him, "What have you done?"

Alarm bells went off in Alastor's head. He didn't know what was happening, and he didn't like that one bit. He reached for Elida, but she just clutched her phone to her chest, shaking her head with tears in her eyes. After a moment of showing pure, unfiltered pain, she turned and shrank to the size of a fairy, flying off unceremoniously. She left him there.

Alastor was alone, confused, and surrounded by snarling cannibals. He stood there, a calm smile on his face, leaning casually on his staff. "If someone would kindly enlighten me," he began, keeping his voice cocky and relaxed, "What has upset my doll, and who's soul do I need to tear apart?"

"Alastor," Shakespie's voice called from somewhere in the crowd, "If you don't want to get eaten… run. Now." He spoke clearly, as if it was less of a threat, and more of a promise.

Alastor still didn't know what the hell was going on, but he knew when it was time to cut and run. He was on his friend's turf. He could easily slaughter these cannibals if they attacked, but the problem with that would be how angry Rosie would be. He couldn't risk a fight with her, let alone in her own territory without even knowing why he had to defend himself.

He wanted to find Elida. Where had she gone? She could be anywhere by now. Maybe the coven headquarters? Alastor didn't have time or space to think. The cannibals pounced; teeth bared. He faded into shadow, skirting beneath them and drifting harmlessly out the door. He stayed in the dark, watching the growling faces of other demons as they all frowned at their phones. He needed to know what the message said.

Skirting into a back alley, Alastor found an imp passed out from a drug overdose. Their phone beeped loudly in their pocket. Pulling it out, he studied it for a moment, trying to figure out how to work the infernal thing. Eventually, he got frustrated and just started randomly jabbing at the screen until it did something. It worked.

Alastor froze, understanding creeping in. He started hyperventilating. No. No no no no NO! FUCK! He needed to find Elida. He needed to tell her it was a lie. He had to convince her. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not so soon! If he couldn't fix this, he'd never see his mother again, Elida would never trust him again, and every demon in Hell would be ready to end him.

He threw the imp's phone against the wall, furious. It cracked, clattering to the ground. On the phone's shattered screen, a pristine image glowed in the darkness…

…of Alastor…

…cheating on Elida…

…with one of her own sisters.

[TLDR: Vox sends out a message to all of Hell with a photoshopped picture of Alastor cheating on Elida with another witch. The cannibals at the ball try to kill him. Elida flies off, visibly upset.]