Hazbin Hotel Oneshots/Short Stories

Angel Dust Lore/Backstory: He Told Me Then

Art Credit: Kyo
Note: This story has heavy swearing, minor violence, descriptions of  blood, some verbal abuse, and drugs/drug symptoms. Please read carefully. Thank you!

Smoke wound around the bar Angel Dust and Alastor sat at, shaping into figures resembling demons and people, beckoning to dance with them. It was almost as if they were magical, floating under the dripping and syrupy sepia light inside. And it provided an interesting company for the two men since most of the bar was empty. It reminded them of the days they enjoyed when they were alive when speakeasies floated around as distantly but as surely as smoke.

"I'm a member of the Midnight Crew~🎵" Alastor sang as easily as breathing air, which was pretty incredible since he already started his drink and sang for an entire show earlier. With the help of Charlie, he and Angel had made it a habit to sing for various crowds of demons and on the radio as well since they enjoyed it so much, earning money for the hotel and showing off their musical talents at the same time.

Angel chuckled, "Damn right you are, it's literally midnight and we haven't even gone back to the hotel yet. Barely anyone's here."

"Even so, I'll stay🎶!"

Angel Dust laughed more and punched the deer demon lightly in the arm. "Now you're just making up lyrics."

A genuine smile (which wasn't caused by alcohol) showed up on Alastor's face. "You do have to admit it's fun, sitting here at midnight with almost no demons here."

"Yeah, it is. Although I'm surprised you actually got some alcohol for yourself."

"I'm not ashamed of choosing not to get alcohol," Alastor shrugged, "but when the time feels appropriate I'll get it for myself."

The spider demon nodded and looked around again at the expensive drinks, the smoky atmosphere, the surprisingly civilized bartender, and handful of demons that didn't even pay attention to a word they said despite their fame.

"...Doesn't this place remind you of a speakeasy Al? Like we had when we were alive?"

Both of them took sips of their drinks and glanced around once more.

"It does," Alastor murmured. His garnet eyes looked into Angel's now, with his head leaning in curiosity. "Angel... tell me, when did you die exactly?"

"1947. What about yourself?" The pornstar's words slurred together, and this time he took a glance away from his friend, avoiding eye contact while he pulled out a cigarette.

"I died in 1933. In the United States."

"America? Yeah, I died there too. It was pretty messed up then actually. Then again, I guess we're the ones who helped make it that way." There was a peculiar combination of a smirk and a serious expression on Angel Dust's face. "My family moved there from Sicily actually."

"Interesting." There was a moment of genuine curiosity and nodding from Alastor, a murmured "Mhm" from Angel. Silence filled the space between them. Alastor had his eyes on Angel again and smiled wider when he finally saw Angel meet his gaze.

"Would you mind telling me how your life was and how you died, Angel? I'm curious."

The opposite demon cocked a brow and smiled while blowing around smoke and leaning back in the booth they were in.
"I do mind actually."

"Come now, we'll both be drunk by the time you finish. I'll likely forget your words." The deer demon took another shot. "Make that definite. I definitely won't remember."

Angel Dust knew Alastor well enough now, and he knew he was lying. But he didn't blame him for being curious, and... he trusted him. So he agreed to tell him what he knew he'd remember.