#'truly cannot emphasize enough how much he/i hated Every Single Second of being the damned engineer' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

panharmonium · 4 years

Photo

you know what?

no. absolutely not.

i already did part 1 of this post here. i’m back again with part 2, because unfortunately the awfulness factor doesn’t stop with arthur, and as much as i adore hunith generally, this entire sequence is a MESS.

and yes, i am aware that pretty much nobody else thinks so. every time i see this scene referenced in fandom, it is always framed as a fun, cutesy, sing-songy moment of “oooo, hunith ships merthur!” literally every time.

which, you know, like i always say about everything fandom-related - that’s fine. everybody is going to enjoy things differently; you do you, and keep on having fun! but here on my own blog, in my own space, i am gonna do me, and in this case ‘me’ involves yelling about how much i can’t stand that particular read, and how angry the end of 1.10 makes me.

disclaimer, to help folks curate their own fandom experiences: i am going to be Very Cranky for the rest of this post. if you love this particular scene in the way i just mentioned, you will probably want to scroll on by, because this piece of meta most likely won’t be your jam. as always, these are my personal thoughts and nobody is obligated to share them, so please do not hesitate to simply skip this post if we are on different wavelengths - instead, keep enjoying fandom in whatever way is most fun for you!

fair warning now given, off i go on a long, frustrated tirade.

i already wrote about the first half of this scene, where arthur decides that the appropriate thing to do at this particular moment is to give merlin a scolding about the evils of sorcery, despite the fact that the only reason arthur is even alive to deliver this lecture in the first place is because merlin’s ‘sorcerer’ best friend just DIED saving arthur’s life. but sure, you know what, let’s use said best friend’s funeral to chastise merlin about how “dangerous” sorcerers are. let’s just make that completely dickheaded decision.

and, moving on to the second half of this scene - here’s the thing. hunith overhears this entire conversation. she overhears arthur telling merlin off about sorcery, in front of the burning corpse of merlin’s best friend, who is, as far as arthur knows, the ‘sorcerer’ who died saving arthur’s life.

and yet, for some inexplicable reason, hunith still cannot get off the arthur pendragon train for two damn seconds.

she has known arthur for less than a week. by contrast, she has known will for his entire life. but the instant arthur walks away, hunith sidles up next to merlin and says, “you’d better be going” - like. okay, my god, can you try to hustle him away from his best friend’s in-progress funeral any faster????? how about we maybe give him a second? the pyre hasn’t even burnt down yet, and merlin hasn’t had a single second to himself since this sequence started. he’s had to stand there and listen to arthur insult the dude who everyone is supposed to be memorializing, and then hunith - who overheard the entire thing - zips right over and tries to chivvy merlin on his way. you’d better be going.

HELLO?! the pyre is still roaring. how about, instead of hassling merlin and hustling him offstage, everybody just sits down and waits for a minute. how about they all just leave merlin alone for three everloving seconds.

honestly, just - every time i think about this scene i get angrier.

i love hunith, and i know she’s well-intentioned. but everything she gives merlin in this scene is the exact opposite of what he needs. he doesn’t need to be hurried off the village green like there’s some reason he can’t stay there for the entirety of his friend’s funeral. he doesn’t need to be pushed into going back to camelot when he is clearly struggling with the idea of leaving ealdor again. and he absolutely does not need to be told how much someone else “needs” him right now, when he himself is the one who is having a fucking crisis and who needs someone to take care of him.

i cannot emphasize that last point enough. it is just - beyond upsetting to me that hunith literally watches arthur shitting on merlin’s dead best friend (and, by proxy, merlin himself, since merlin is the actual sorcerer) and she still somehow thinks the right thing to do is walk over and start telling merlin how great arthur is and how arthur “needs” him and how merlin “belongs at arthur’s side.”

i can’t stand that. it makes me so angry. it’s not right. it’s not fair. it’s damaging. it’s the same shitty messaging that destroys merlin’s life in later seasons, this idea that he exists for someone else’s sake, the complete disregard for what he himself might want at any given moment, for what he himself might need, for the reservations he might have about this plan that other people have formulated for his life.

he is UNCOMFORTABLE when she says these things to him! he doesn’t look at her; he shifts his gaze to arthur and the camelot squad with this grim, unconvinced expression on his face, and then he averts his eyes from her.

everything hunith tells merlin in this scene is the exact opposite of what he needs to hear. he does not need someone to tell him how badly his services are “needed” by a man who hates the person merlin truly is, not when the only friend who ever accepted merlin’s true self has just been killed. he does not need to be told that arthur, who is alive solely because will is dead and who only seconds ago expressed exactly zero gratitude for that sacrifice, is the person to whom merlin owes his undying loyalty. he does not need to be shuffled off to camelot as quickly as possible, as if it would be better for him to just rush forward and forget what happened here, as if what happened here didn’t matter.

because what happened here did matter, whether hunith and arthur find it convenient to acknowledge or not. i have to lay this out again, because what happened to merlin in ealdor is so much more important than anybody ever seems to realize - and i do understand that, i really do (because yes, it was just one episode for us) - but we have to look at it from merlin’s perspective, not the audience’s.

will wasn’t ‘one episode’ for merlin.

i can’t say this enough times. i cannot say this loudly enough.

merlin, at the beginning of this show, has only ever had ONE FRIEND.

most of us can’t even imagine something like that.

but try. TRY.

merlin has only ever had one friend. he’s only ever had one friend to love him. he only had one friend for the first two decades of his life. he’s only been in camelot for a couple of months; he’s only known these camelot people for a couple of months, and they don’t know his real self anyhow. and now his ONLY FRIEND, the person he’s known all his life, the only friend he ever had who knew him for who he truly was, was just violently cut down before his very eyes, whilst saving a guy who can legally have merlin murdered for just existing. and even though merlin and will spend the entirety of 1.10 having a painful, complicated argument, will still uses his last moments on earth to tell the biggest fucking whopper of his life, in order to shield merlin from harm, taking all of the danger and infamy and condemnation upon himself. he dies with a lie on his lips. he dies with merlin’s hand in his hair.

and all the while, merlin knows that this would not have happened if he had just been willing to use his magic in the first place, instead of letting his fear of discovery prompt him into allowing his neighbors to offer themselves up for the slaughter in his place.

the avalanching double-whammy of grief and guilt that merlin is suddenly slammed with at the end of this episode is almost incomprehensible in scale.

i’ve talked about this before, but again, i think it’s something we don’t generally remember: losing will is the first time merlin has ever experienced personal bereavement. and he doesn’t get to start out with a warm-up; he goes straight to the big leagues. this is not some trifling thing. this is a total implosion of merlin’s world as he knows it.

when we think about the mark this episode leaves on merlin’s life, i don’t think most of us consider the magnitude of this event deeply enough. losing will in this way is not some one-off thing that merlin just...gets over. this is the most earth-shattering thing that has ever happened to him, at this point in time. it is still one of the worst things that has ever happened to him, period, even years later. the guilt never goes away.

and the thing that’s unique about this particular trauma is that merlin has to manage it alone. there are other tragedies in his life where we witness him receiving support/comfort from others - freya, lancelot, balinor (though of course there are aspects to these miseries that merlin has to keep secret from other people, as well) - but with will, merlin has to do everything on his own. he can’t get one single moment of peace at will’s funeral. his own mother, the only person who knows what really happened, can’t help him without making everything about arthur. and merlin can’t tell anyone else what happened, not the truth of it, because doing so would squander the gift he’s been given - will’s lie is still protecting him, years later, from arthur and morgana both.

merlin, at the end of 1.10, is forced to navigate this grief completely alone, in the silent secrecy of his own heart. arthur is actively making it worse. hunith is out here singing arthur’s praises. and will is just like - he’s suddenly not part of the conversation anymore. he doesn’t even register on anyone’s radar.

it truly is...incredible, for me, to watch hunith overhear arthur being legitimately terrible to both merlin and the guy who just died saving merlin AND arthur’s lives, and then to see her come over and start talking about how merlin belongs at arthur’s side, how much merlin needs to be there for him, how they’re two sides of the same coin. meanwhile, the guy who literally just lied his life away to protect merlin’s secret and who NEVER made merlin feel like he had to hide who he was and who never had any problem with magic in the first place and never made merlin feel unsafe and never treated merlin like he was less of a human being just for existing -

- he’s just burning to ash there, and hunith doesn’t even acknowledge that, despite the fact that merlin is so visibly, intently, single-mindedly focused on that funeral pyre, and so clearly in distress and in pain and NEEDING somebody. all she can talk about is merlin’s responsibility to arthur.

the dissonance here is baffling. hunith has known will forever. she met arthur less than a week ago. she barely knows him, and what she does know is that he thinks magic-users are dangerous/evil. she saw him being a dick to her kid. she knows her son is having the worst day of his life. and she still doesn’t offer a single comforting word in reference to the person who just died protecting merlin’s secret, instead choosing to wax poetic about a man whose bigotry is what merlin needed protecting from in the first place.

that...is a hot mess. the merlin-hunith-will dynamic is one of the few things in this show that reflects less-than-stellarly on hunith’s character, however much i love her. and even though it all stems from an overwhelming desire to keep her son safe, it doesn’t make her choices any less damaging. she sends merlin away specifically because she finds out that will knows about his secret. she spends 1.10 analyzing and encouraging and dissecting merlin’s relationship with arthur, when merlin’s relationship with will is the one that desperately needs attention. she’s proven wrong about will’s trustworthiness in the most stunning, powerful way possible, and then she never even acknowledges him, instead choosing to laud the dude who literally forces merlin to live in fear of execution.

she’s merlin’s mother. she’s the only person in his life who knows anything about what will actually meant to him. she is his only possible resource as he tries to weather a kind of devastation that defies description.

and she, like arthur, just barrels right on ahead and makes everything about someone else.

the cinematography choices in this scene matter. whenever arthur or hunith tries to talk to merlin, the camera is placed on the opposite side of the fire from them, meaning the flames are always in the foreground of the frame. they are something we are required to see and look past before we can get to anything else in the scene. and in terms of directorial/acting decisions - merlin doesn’t take his eyes off the pyre until the end of his conversation with hunith. not once while talking to arthur does he look away from it.

the funeral pyre is always in the foreground of the shot, because it’s in the forefront of merlin’s mind. that is where his focus is right now. that is what is taking up all of his attention. that is what is edging into the frame, eating up our entire field of view. that is what he needs help with.

but he doesn’t get any such support. the entire sequence ends up revolving around arthur. will’s entire funeral is about arthur fucking pendragon. arthur inserts himself so he can talk to merlin about how evil magic is, and then hunith inserts herself so she can talk to merlin about how great arthur is. nobody ever stops to think that maybe merlin doesn’t want to talk to anybody right this second. merlin’s entire ‘farewell’ to the only true friend he ever had in his life is completely swallowed up by the prince of camelot, and if that isn’t a metaphor for the rest of merlin’s life, then i don’t know what is.

i know nobody needs to hear this, because very few people are invested in this kid at the same level of embarrassing detail as me, but here it is, anyway.

yes, will is prickly. he’s hard to get on with. he’s angry. he’s bitter and snappy and uncharitable, sometimes.

but you know what? he has every reason to be like that.

this kid has nobody. his own best friend’s mother - who has known him all his life - doesn’t trust him and doesn’t respect him. she is too afraid for her own son’s safety to give will any credit. she sends merlin away to camelot, the most violently anti-magic place in the world, because apparently, will knowing about merlin’s secret would be even more dangerous than uther pendragon’s genocidal reign.

think about how that would feel. to hear something like that about yourself. to be somebody who is already so goddamn alone in the world, and to have your only friend vanish without so much as a ‘see you later,’ and then to be made to feel, however indirectly, like this is somehow your fault, like you’re the liability, like you’re the untrustworthy element here. as if you, somehow, are more dangerous than a king who literally pays to have sorcerers trafficked to him in cages.

will has every right to be upset, all the time. he has every reason to be angry, and bitter, and hurt, all the time. to be thought so poorly of - to be held in such low esteem - when he hasn’t done anything wrong, when he hasn’t ever done anything to earn that kind of mistrust - and to have that same misplaced suspicion used to justify separating him from the only person in the world who gives a damn about him - if it were me, i would be constantly on the verge of screaming, all the time.

will has always been on merlin’s side, and he has never done anything to endanger him, and in the end he gives up everything to make sure merlin can stay safe and hidden and unhunted. he shouldn’t have needed to prove his goodness, his constancy, his worth; not when he’s already kept merlin’s secret for who knows how many years, but even after he does do so, it doesn’t even matter. arthur acknowledges him only to disparage sorcery. hunith passes him over completely in favor of praising arthur, with no acknowledgment of the misjudgment she made.

i have said before that merlin tends to befriend people who have nobody, people who’ve been left behind by the rest of the world, people who’ve been made to feel that they aren’t worthy of love. and will, merlin’s oldest friend, was the first of those many characters, and it is so heartbreaking to me that in this instance, the same kind of disinterested and careless attitude towards his worth that dogged him all his life is perpetuated and affirmed after his death. ‘people are used to ignoring him,’ merlin tells arthur, and merlin is right - even when will is dead and burning, arthur only sees sorcery. hunith, who we would expect to be more sympathetic, only sees arthur.

merlin is the only one who knows better. merlin has always known better, and he loves will so much, but he is the only one, apparently, and honestly, after will dies? nobody else even tries to understand.

to sum up:

hunith and arthur, for all that i love them, are both way out of line at the end of this episode.

the legacy of this experience, for merlin, is that he spends the rest of his life processing this particular trauma alone. and that is why i always, always have to keep will and ealdor in the back of my mind when i write for merlin in any capacity - because this event isn’t some simple stumbling block for him; it changes him forever. it teaches him what he can and can’t expect from the people around him, and it solidifies how irrelevant his own needs are when viewed in comparison with arthur’s, even to people who barely even KNOW arthur; people who are supposed to put merlin first over everything. it teaches merlin to bury his sorrow, and to wrestle with personal suffering in secret, because if things aren’t ultimately about arthur, then they aren’t important enough to be granted any significant amount of time for merlin to deal with. merlin’s own grief, even at his best friend’s funeral, takes too long to resolve. arthur walks away from the pyre, and it’s time for merlin to leave, too. you’d better be going.

bottom line: i don’t care if other people think this whole ‘ooo, everybody wants merlin to be with arthur’ thing is wonderful or beautiful or dreamily romantic. it isn’t. it’s ugly, and it’s cruel, and it stripped merlin of his present identity and his future potential, one stolen moment at a time.

#and that's what i have to say about that #so.#in case you all weren't already aware #will is a goddamn hero #and merlin misses him every day #the once and future slowburn #meta #no kings no masters

550 notes · View notes

jetsetlife138 · 4 years

Note

Idk if you’re still accepting prompts but can you do 79 with Alastor x fem!reader?

#79 - “Fuck me like you hate me.” Pairing: Alastor x fem!ReaderWarning: VERY explicit and rough smut

He’d gone too far this time. Alastor thoroughly enjoyed pushing your buttons, and most days you could handle it, but not today.

“I’m done, Alastor. I’m so over your bullshit. You’re egotistical, selfish, and just… I hate you. I really, truly do. Just stay the hell away from me.”

It’s not that everything you were saying wasn’t true, and if you were being honest, calling attention to his shitty behavior was long overdue for the arrogant demon. So… why did you have an almost overwhelming sense of guilt as soon as the words left your mouth?

The Radio Demon peeled his lips back into a sinister smile, revealing his frighteningly jagged teeth.”My dear girl, are you truly that foolish? It is you who repeatedly seeks me out. It’s you that comes crawling back to me for companionship when you’ve seemed to abandon all hope. I am the company you seek when you lie awake at night, lonely and desperate for affection.”

You refused to budge as he moved closer, his face now only inches away from your own as his hot breath brushed over your face, his scent equally revolting and intoxicating. “There’s no harm in admitting what you already know, dearest. You cannot resist me, and you would love nothing more than to be filled by me over and over again like the hungry cock slut that you are.”

SLAP

The sound of your hand coming into contact with his face echoed throughout the room, leaving behind a haunting silence in its wake. His face had turned away from you due to the impact of your assault, and his mouth hung open in shock. All you could do was gawk at him, utterly speechless and unable to fully comprehend what you had just done.

The both of you remained still for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably no more than a few seconds. Finally, he looked toward you again, a coldness in his eyes that you had never felt before, turning your blood to ice. His lip curled, and it was only when he smiled once more that you had realized the gravity of your mistake.

“So, that’s how this is going to go, hmm?” he purred dangerously, tilting his head far enough to crack the bones in his neck. His demeanor was eerily calm, but you could still feel the intensity beneath the surface, his rage threatening to emerge at any given time. The fact that his reaction was cool and calculated had frightened you more than if he would have exploded with anger instead.

Swallowing thickly, your immediate reaction was to take a step back to create some distance between you and the unpredictable demon. However, with every cautious step you took away from him, he countered by taking an enormous stride forward. Why the fuck did he have to be so tall with such long ass legs?!

Eventually, you had reached the wall, no longer able to distance yourself. “A-Alastor… I didn’t… I--”

Before you could finish the rest of your sentence, he was on top of you, twisting you around to face away from him and pinning you up against the wall. You tried to wriggle free, but his hold on you was far too strong as he kept you in place with his body pressed against your back.

Your froze when you felt him bend slightly to run his claws up your inner thigh towards your core. When his fingers danced over your heat, your breath hitched and you fought the urge to buck into his hand.

His black and red strands of hair swept across your cheek as he leaned forward to whisper huskily into your ear, “Tell me again how much you detest me,” he demanded as his slender digits continued to tease you over your damp heat. It took all you had to resist grinding against his fingers.

“I’m pretty sure the word I used was ‘hate’, but whatever,” you barked, seething with irritation and sexual frustration. “Either way, I really fucking do.”

His hand found his way into your hair as he yanked your head back, pressing his lips hungrily against yours in a deep kiss. Overcome with lust, you reached your arm back to bring him even closer, opening your mouth to welcome his tongue as he wasted no time in kneading it against your own. Absentmindedly, your thighs began to part wider to allow the skilled demon more access to your throbbing cunt, already dripping from his actions. You really hated how easily he brought you to this state.

When he began to press his palm into you to add more pressure to your aching clit, a needy whine escaped your throat, which he swallowed down with his mouth as he continued to kiss you, chuckling at your obvious need for him.

Breaking the kiss, he flipped you back around so that you were facing him once more before he pressed his forehead against yours. His hot breath swept over your face as he panted against you, moving to finally brush the fabric of your panties aside to allow him full access. He wasted no time slipping a finger inside of you, crooking his digit into a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot over and over again.

Clutching the front of his suit in your hands, you rolled your hips against him, eager for more. He relished in your response to his touch, smirking arrogantly. “For someone who hates me as much as you supposedly do, you’re awfully wet, my dear.”

“That doesn’t mean a-anything,” you bit back, trying to maintain your composure as he increased his speed, pumping in and out of you with vigor. “Just because you’re an entitled, n-narcissistic, self-absorbed piece of shit--oh god--doesn’t mean that you’re not also a--mnph-- somewhat decent fuck.”

He snarled at you, shoving a second finger without warning and thrusting into you with such force, you thought that he was going to break you. “I must say, it’s unbecoming to so easily succumb to the advances of someone supposedly as entitled and self-absorbed as I am. One might say that it’s actually quite pathetic, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Fuck you, Alastor.”

He laughed darkly, choking on his own breath shortly after when you moved your hands down his slender form and onto the obvious tent in his pants, palming at it eagerly while he rolled his hips against you.

“And you say I’m pathetic?” you mocked, smirking at his reaction to your touch.

He responded by shoving his fingers so forcefully deep inside of you that you could have sworn you had been lifted from the ground. You cried out in both pleasure and pain, knowing full well that you weren’t going to be able to walk right for the next few days.

Using his other hand, he made quick work of his trousers, eagerly pulling out his weeping cock. Unable to stop yourself, you reached forward, sliding up his shaft with your hand and thumbing at his slit, spreading the precum around the head. He moaned at the sensation, his jaw unhinging as he shut his eyes, his body trembling with anticipation.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he promised breathlessly before sliding his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck his digits clean. You whined at the sight, earning another wave of arousal to leak out of your cunt. He then reached back down to hook his fingers around your panties before yanking so hard that they ripped right off of your body, causing you to jolt forward into him as he tossed them aside, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

“Doubt it,” you retorted offhandedly. “You’re not as good as you think are, Al. Last time you fucked me I nearly fell asleep from boredom. I thought demons were supposed to be strong and fearsome. You’re a goddamned softie. You’re weak - a fucking doormat. ‘All-powerful’? What a fucking joke.”

It was an obvious lie. Not only had you previously seen the barbaric carnage and slaughter of his enemies first-hand, but there had also been plenty of times before where he had fucked you so brutally that your entire body was littered with multiple dark bruises, leaving behind a soreness that lasted for several days. Regardless, you were pissed off and you were doing all that you could to deflate his ego, consequences be damned.

The look in his eyes instantly made you regret your words. Grinning sinisterly from ear to ear, he reached up to grab your throat, completely cutting off your airway as he used his other hand to line himself up against your heat before snapping his hips forward and filling you completely.

Your immediate response was to gasp, but he held onto your throat too tightly, quickly withdrawing and shoving himself back in again and again, setting a brutal pace.

Tears filled your eyes as you silently begged him for some lenience, which he finally granted you, releasing his hold on your throat after a few more thrusts. You sucked in the air greedily as he continued to rail you against the wall, nearly lifting you from the ground with the harshness of his momentum.

“O-oh, shit,” you choked out,

“Is this what you wanted? Or am I boring you yet again?” He emphasized his words with a particularly rough jab right into your core.

You wanted to beg him to stop-- to slow down and not be so malicious, but there was no way in hell that you were going to relent and let him think that he won.

“I h-hardly even feel anything. I-- oh god-- I’ve had better sex with-- huhg-- with myself. You’re n-nothing.”

With all of the moaning and rutting you were doing, you would have been shocked if he had actually believed you. Given the way he was fucking you, it was a surprise that you could even form words at all. Regardless, Alastor enjoyed the challenge, and the both of you knew it.

“Is that so?” He then gripped your leg tightly, lifting it up and curving it around to rest on his hip while he slammed himself even deeper inside of you, his cock hitting your cervix with each shove. Your nails raked his back, running along the smooth fabric of his red suit since he hadn’t even bothered to remove a single article of his own clothing.

“How about now? Can you feel me now, you ungrateful harlot?You were slightly taken aback at how angry he sounded-- as if he was genuinely upset by your teasing. If you were being honest with yourself, it brought you a lot of smug satisfaction.

You opened your mouth to give some witty retort, but with the way he was railing you, it was damn near impossible. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you finally relented, releasing a wail of pleasure as you struggled to breathe, each thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs. The only words that escaped you were, “Yes! Oh, god, yes! Just like that. Fuck me like you hate me.” If he wasn’t already dead, you would kill him. He was an alluring monster-- hauntingly beautiful and wicked all at once. You were drawn to him in ways that you could never comprehend, nor explain. The sad truth is that you were no more to him than a form of entertainment. He was an enigma, tempting you with his mystery and promises of wonder, but underneath it all was a sadistic and malevolent being, whose interest in you was limited and not at all sentimental. He made you feel weak-- helpless to his meaningless advances and you hated him for it. And yet… what angered you most of all was that you found yourself genuinely caring for him… and it would never be reciprocated in return.

Luckily for you, there was a way to escape those nagging thoughts, and it was by being completely fucked out by the demon. The pain of his harsh movements mixed beautifully with the pleasure it brought, and you were overwhelmed by the ecstasy of it all. Crying out with wanton moans, your body shook uncontrollably as his suit rubbed up against your clit, causing an unbelievable friction as his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you. He noticed you rutting against him in a way to earn more clit stimulation, so he reached down and began massaging against you in small circles with the pads of his fingers. The action caused you to practically scream as you bent your head forward and bit harshly into his shoulder to muffle your loud noises, probably bruising his skin even through his jacket.

“A-Alastor. I can’t… oh fuck, I-I’m--,” you couldn’t even finish the words before your body flooded with bliss, your climax hitting you so abruptly that your knees gave out and you nearly blacked out from the intensity.

He continued to fuck you with abandon, chasing after his own release as you soon became over-sensitized, tears rolling down your face from the sensations.

Resting his cheek against yours, you could distinctly hear the little pants and grunts escaping his throat. They were sounds of vulnerability that were reserved only for you in moments like these-- a genuine rarity. Alastor didn’t petition for sex often, and he especially didn’t partake in having multiple partners. You were honestly surprised that he wanted to fuck anyone ever considering he hardly showed interest in the activity, but when he immersed himself in it… fuck if you didn’t reap the benefits. Slapping the palms of his hands against the wall on both sides of you, his body shuddered as he released an especially loud groan, reaching his high. Heavy spurts of his demonic seed lined your cervix as he continued to convulse, his orgasm lasting longer than anyone you had ever been with. He had rested his head in the crook of your neck, seemingly forgetting about your fight for a moment before he pulled out of you, still breathless and smirking as he watched the remnants of his hot cum drip down your legs. “What a pitiful creature you are. I imagine it must make you feel utterly wretched getting off on the hatred you supposedly feel for me. I wonder if there is anyone else who can bring you to the brink of death and back like I can.”

Fuck that goddamned arrogance. You fought so hard to put him in his place, and instead you got completely fucked-- both figuratively and literally. Your entire body had ached and would be sore for the next week. It made you wonder if the intense orgasms you got from him were even worth it.

Your heated glare was met with an unforgiving sneer as he straightened out his jacket, which had been wrinkled during your interaction. “Let me be as clear as I can be,” he spoke candidly, though his eyes were filled with warning. “You belong to me.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you bent down to pick up the shredded remains of your panties before you stepped around him to leave. As you reached the door frame, you paused to turn and speak over your shoulder as nonchalantly as possible before walking out.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

#alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #anonymous #anon ask #prompt list #smut #the radio demon

363 notes · View notes