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#alastor x you
hurthermore · 2 days
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That’s okay, he’s still my babygirl
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hazelfoureyes · 2 days
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
I managed to finish this despite, ya know, the aforementioned: (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 (keep reading)
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦
「warnings/promises: Alastor x CupidFemReader, broken bones, feet washing, normal sized Luci, you know the outfit in my PFP? You’re wearing that but soft purple and the bottom half is ambiguous because idk baby whatever you feel best in it’s your story, Husk has a bad time, Alastor has a bad time, You have a bad time, Charlie has a great time 👌🏼, not choking」
Minors this one is chill but the next two imma need you to Dni 💋 ♥️ 🧹lovingly
You had made a mistake, yes, but Hell? Really?
Sure, you had dropped an arrow into the water supply of a nunnery which did lead to some unholy behaviors. But! The nuns seemed quite happy. Wasn’t that the point?
Tossing you to Hell through a hastily opened portal was honestly unprofessional. You ended up dropping three stories, upside down, in front of a butcher's shop.
In the seconds between Sera telling you, ‘You can return when you’ve made a sinner believe in true love.’ and Lute kicking you square in the chest through the hell door, you thought it wouldn’t be so hard. True, you couldn’t use your arrows as that wouldn’t be “true love” and also too easy, even gods weak to your shots, but ultimately sinners were still human. Humans were pushovers! Pliable, gentle at their hearts, desiring love and tenderness. How bad could the naughty ones be? 
And then you landed shoulder first onto the pavement. It hurt. Things didn’t hurt in heaven…
Your arrows scattered, quiver spilling when you inverted. Wincing, you scrambled to grab as many as were within reach. Your right shoulder was burning, a new sensation.
You counted them by name as you gathered: Eros, Agape, Philia, Pragma, Philautia, Ludus, Storge… panic. 
ErosAgapePhiliaPragmaPhilautiaLudusStorge— Mania wasn’t there. Arguably the arrow that caused you the most trouble, the sting of Mania would cause a madness that led to obsessive behaviors, possessiveness, jealousy. 
Pulling yourself up, arrows clutched in one hand, the other holding the place near your collar was throbbing, your eyes were frantic in their search.
“What’s this?”
You finally looked up from the sidewalk, a man’s back to you before he turned. Bile rose and burned your throat as he pulled Mania from where it had pierced his chest pocket.
His eyes, shades of red heaven didn’t even entertain, made a simple trip from the arrow's head to your face.
The man went so still you thought for a moment he was a hologram, but you could see the tiniest rise and fall of his chest. A deer facing down a bright light, he remained frozen in place as you began to approach him.
“Excuse my manners, but that’s mine and I really need it back.” Your injured arm moved first and the pain made you see white, a cry so sharp people turned to look. He snapped back to his senses, and with an odd sound you couldn’t quite place, he seemingly disappeared into the ground.
Mania was left behind, shining smugly against the dirty pavement. You didn’t want to make a reach for it, fear flooding you. You’d never felt pain before.
You’d seen it in humans, but never in your existence had you experienced it. Would both arms hurt?
You let the left hand abandon its guarding place and grabbed the errant arrow. Tucking into an alley, you crouched and returned the arrows to their quiver with immense difficulty.
Okay, yes it was Hell but maybe you were a little paranoid. A sense of being watched wouldn't leave you even after you re-emerged from the darkness of the alley. 
The enormity of your task set in as you surveyed the area. You, an obviously heavenly creature even without your wings out on display, would need time to make anyone believe in any form of love. Where would you go in the meantime? And now injured for the first time in your life? How long would that need to mend?
Expanding your view, you saw the currently defunct doomsday countdown hovering above the embassy. Perfect, holy ground would atleast keep you safe for the night, which was falling with a malignant speed.
They couldn’t have given you some time to change? Or pack a set of clothes? Your short sleeved button up a (literally) glowing shade of white was attracting too much attention, golden sandals now cloudy from various fluids across Pentagram city’s streets. Your heart shaped overalls a powdered purple, you looked like an adult child among a sea of very tired professionals. 
When you got to the embassy you only had one good arm to open the heavy doors, which unfortunately didn’t budge. Perhaps you needed two? Trying to muster up some adrenaline, you began to pant. Deep breaths like the women in labour you sometimes worked your magic on.
As soon as you gripped the handle you saw something that made you jump back, muscles flexing around whatever damage you’d done in your body from the fall. A large black snake? Some demonic squid’s appendage? Something unholy grabbed hold of the handle as soon as you had and gave such a tug the doors violently shook.
You spun around to the dark neighborhood behind you. Nothing. Turning back the thing was gone. And so was all of your hope. It was locked. The tears were unwanted and unnecessary, but just-- you were hurting so much, you were dirty, you were alone, and now essentially homeless.
If there was ever a reason to cry, you decided to let yourself have this one. 
The lamplights flickered and the entire street went pitch black. Because of course it did.
Hyperventilating now entirely without intention, you watched as one light to the left popped on with a static buzz. Desperate to be out of the darkness you ran to the spotlight. As soon as your foot entered the beam, the light beside it lit up. Your eyes wandered to heaven above, were they helping you? Had you not been entirely abandoned?
Of course! Yeah. They sensed you at the doors and sent off some guidance. How silly of you. Relief washed over you as you ran through the lights until your foot left one spotlight but the next hadn't popped on.
Twirling back to the embassy, you saw all of the lights shut off in succession behind you.
Just you and the one lamp now, and the glow of some TVs in the shop window to the right. What was the meaning of this? 
That weird sound you heard earlier but couldn’t place… electricity but dusty and barely contained. Your gaze was drawn to the radio in the shop window in front of you. You hadn’t noticed it until it buzzed to life. It lit up faintly, dial turning on its own until a high and smooth voice rang out, “Looking for your way to heaven? You’re in luck! The Hazbin Hotel is now accepting any and all willing to find redemption!”
This must have been the message, I mean, heaven was never good at being subtle.
“Just make your way to the left and toward the looming building atop the hill!”
Your head turned to your left and then up slightly. Bathed in red and white lights stood a behemoth of a building on the edge of a cliff.
Head still facing the hotel, your eyes flitted back to the radio.
“Reception is open 24 hours a day!”
You touched your arm, then patted at your pockets. Not a wallet or ID card on you. You were the 17th Cupid incarnation, why would you have a fucking ID card? But didn’t those places need such things? You’d seen every romcom earth had ever produced. There was always some issue with hotel check ins. 
“Not a red cent needed! We literally do not care who you are!”
Oh. Wait. Was this a trap?
“Created by the Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter! A foolish young woman who genuinely believes in reforming sinners!”
Lucifer?? The former angel, yes, but the word angel carried much more weight now. Perhaps he would have a modicum of pity given your circumstances.
You took an unsteady foot forward and toward the hotel when the street lights all buzzed back to life.
The path to the hotel was long, many demons stopping you on your way but quickly losing interest after a second or two of pestering you. You gave a silent prayer to the archangels for that blessing.
It must have been nearly 1am when you finally made it to the hotel’s doors. When you entered you found an empty reception desk and a poorly written note:
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Before the bell’s hammer even hit the metal, a man popped up from behind the counter.
The man.
The man you shot with Mania.
“Welcome to th-,”
You were outside and leaving the awning before he could finish, but just as quickly as you left he appeared in front of you, “Still missing your manners?”
He blocked your path with his remarkable size. Why were demons so tall? What was the use of it?
“Deer got your tongue?” He bent over unnaturally at the waist.
“What?”
“Would you like-,” he began.
You walked around him and down the driveway. He moved briskly beside you, slowly growing larger and larger until his body was several stories tall and entirely blocking the gates of the premises.
A horror. Hell was full of horrors.
He crouched, large toothy smile now baring down at you.
If you stabbed him in the eye with an arrow, which would cause the least trouble? It was a rule to never give a double love bite but this was a dire situation.
But if you were sent to hell for a little nun love fest, what would purposefully stabbing a sinner do?
He rapidly shrank, hands coming to his front to catch a summoned microphone…Cane? Staff?
“You’re injured. Just, come back inside. I promise I don’t bite without consent.” His head cocked to the side, a quiet, “Usually” tacked on.
We’re you visibly hurt? How bad was it? You looked past him to where sounds of yelling and music were rolling up the hill.
“You don’t have many options, angel.” He hissed the word through clenched teeth. Disgust almost seemed to lace his voice, but why, then, was he offering help?
“Not an angel. Cupid. Different.” Kind of. You gave the quiver a shake.
“Ah yes. That explains why you shot at me earlier.” A large hand came to your side and directed you to turn back around. He kept it there, pushing softly to keep you moving.
“I didn't shoot you.”, You huffed, crossing your arms before doubling over in pain. He stopped walking, hand resting now against your spine. Regaining your composure, you continued towards the hotel lobby, “My arrows fell out and…you caught one. With your body.”
“My pocket made quite the lucky catch. Now!” He snapped, a key appearing and floating into his hand with a sparkle of neon green, “Let’s get you to a room and cleaned up.”
“Do you work here?” You asked as he escorted you to one of the upper floors. The room was surprisingly clean and well decorated. You had expected a dingy highway motel. And while the room was largely dark wood and rich colors, it wasn’t as offensive as the rest of hell had been.
“Ah! My my, forgive me! I am Alastor, the radio demon and hotel manager here.” He bowed and offered his hand for you to place yours in. You did so without thinking, and he kissed your knuckles once but his mouth lingered over your flesh. Eyes half lidded, he glanced back up at you, “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”
There was no way to reverse Cupid’s arrows. Not by force. Love could only die by the hands of the ones who held it. Others could definitely bruise it, but ultimately it was up to the beholder. Mania was a little different, obsession could be dispelled by shattering whatever illusion the holder felt.
If the holder thought someone was the epitome of genteel chastity then a show of wanton sexuality could break the spell. If someone was convinced the object of their desire was very smart and savvy then acting ignorant could make the obsession fall flat. But there was no indication he had any illusions of you. Not yet, atleast.
Mania was now his, and he would keep it in his heart until he lost it or killed it. He could, technically, be possessed by, and be in the possession of, Mania for eternity. A sinner had never been shot before, that you knew of.
He didn’t noticeably react as you took back your hand. With a hum, he snapped again and you found a chair pulled up behind you and knocking into the back of your knees. You fell into the plush armchair, watching a metal basin of steaming water slide against your feet.
“Excuse you— ExcUU-,” you pulled your legs back but he pulled harder, Alastor removing your dirty shoes and tossing them off to the side like trash.
“You can't clean yourself with that broken collar bone. Allow me.” His hand gripped your ankles and dunked both into the water, “I insist.”
“It’s broken? How could I break a collarbone…,” the humor wasn’t lost on you, sinner washing holy feet, but your focus was entirely on the concept of a broken bone. 
“Falling twenty five feet head first, apparently.” Alastor rubbed soap into your calves.
“But I don’t break.” What happened to you, what had that kick into hell done? “You saw me? Also, that isn’t dirty.” you pointed at your calf.
“Peripherally.”
Did he mean the dirt or witnessing the fall? You sat in silence while he hummed, returning your feet to their original color. 
“Now,” he rose, patting his hands dry on a small towel, “Unbutton your top.”
Your expression was apparently quite loud, Alastor putting his hands up quickly, “Not like that. I’ve no interest in that sort of thing. I need to see your shoulder and upper chest.” He waited patiently, staring at you the entire time. His smile was so wide, teeth yellow and sharp. Unsettling. 
He really did look like he could eat you. You’d heard of such demons.
You slipped off the straps of your overalls, and began to open your shirt. He did away with the water, coming to kneel directly to your right as he watched. You couldn’t see anything without some kind of mirror. If it was bruised or swollen, it was out of your line of sight. Long clawed hands came to the front and back of your shoulder, pressing inward. You pulled away, a firm grip now as his right hand held at the left side of your waist.
“Are you a doctor?” Hotel manager and doctor would be an unlikely combo, but the day had been odd from start to finish.
A shake of the head, “But when I was alive, I did have quite a lot of experience with the inner workings of anatomy.” You grimaced, how could he say such sinister things with such a lovely voice? “Maybe not broken. But I’d say at least a fracture. Perhaps your heavenly body didn’t take full damage. It hurts when you move your arm, correct?” You nodded. 
He hummed, another click of his fingers and a fabric unfurled into his waiting hands. “Take it all the way off so I can set this.”
You were exhausted. The pain was gnawing at your nerves. No more fight in you, you just wanted rest, so you slipped off the shirt entirely and let him wrap your arm up into a simple sling. You were surprised his hands were so warm. Demons seemed like they’d be cold to the touch. Like lizards or pearls.
When he finished, you sitting in the large chair with your arm wrapped in a silky black sling, no shirt, and pastel purple heart-shaped overalls folded down your torso, you considered having another cry. You felt your chin tremble. You couldn’t recall ever crying from sadness before today.
It was just a mistake. You hadn’t meant to drop your arrow. Why were the archangels so angry? What’s some sex between nuns? 
Alastor bristled, hand coming to your cheek. It was an unwelcome gesture. You batted his hand away with your only free one, but he just sighed and set it on your thigh. You pushed it off, shooting him a glare. The audacity.
You thought you saw his eye twitch.
With what little energy was left in, you stood and open the door for him, “You have been very kind and helpful. Thank you very much. You can leave now.” Oh, right, “Please.”
He stood, pausing as he passed you. He was so tall. Shoulders wide. You felt your heart rate pick up. Even with two good collarbones you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight.
Alastor leaned down to your level, you backing up and into the door, “Until the morning.”
When he said it you had thought he was just going about formalities. But he wasn’t. You awoke some hours later to a knock. When you opened the door he was looming in your doorway again.
You tried to close the door but he put his foot in the gap, then a strong hand wrapped around the door’s edge and he pushed his way into the room.
You sputtered, arm flailing a little as you choked on which reaction to give first. You were undressed, in just your under things.
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself further when you get dressed. I’ll undo the sling and help.” Closing the door he then spun back around to face you, smile as bright as it was earlier that same day. 
“No! Absolutely not! Leave! Please!”
As he guided your arm through the shirt, you struggled to process what had happened. One minute you were indignant and stubborn and then he was so close to you, hands warm and gentle, and then already he was untying the sling and your shirt was just there and-
“See? Wasn’t that easy? No harm in accepting help.” Alastor looked you over from top to bottom.  
“Accepting? What part of any of that did I accept.” You stood bottomless in a button up, trying to get the overalls from the hanger with just your left hand. His chest pressed into your back, nearly forcing you to fall into the armoire, to assist you.
“The part where you didn’t actively fight me. I think we can call that acceptance until you learn better.” His words shook through your ribs and to your front. 
Annoyance rose in your chest, what was he thinking? Humans had no right to touch you let alone a sinner. “You’re an eldritch horror, please back away from the divine creature before you.” Alastor laughed, backing away with the clothes in his hands. Hand out, you motioned for him to pass it over. He tossed it on the floor, and took a seat on the bed with crossed legs. “Oh, I see. You’re an asshole. Perfect.” Pretense gone, manners not needed.
You grabbed it with your left hand and managed to get both legs into it before slinking it up and onto your left shoulder. While you tried to figure out how to do the right side, realizing the flaw in your order of processes, Alastor leaned over and unhooked the left strap, overalls falling to the carpet with a soft thud. 
You stood there for several moments, staring at him with purple fabric pooled around your ankles, him staring at you with a shiteating grin.
After finally getting dressed, preferring to not think about how, you were followed down to the lobby. 
“Breakfast?” He asked, you both in the elevator as he hadn’t gone more than three feet from you since he entered your bedroom. 
“No, no appetite. I need to find Lucifer.” You were sure he could help somehow. Somehow he could do….something. Details about Lucifer’s powers and abilities, his strengths and skills were all kept hush-hush. But if nothing else, you could find someone who understood your position. 
Your hand was being vigorously shaken before the elevator doors even closed behind you. Charlie Morningstar was not what you expected.  Chipper and bright, she was bursting with energy. 
“Gentle, Charlie. Our dear Cupid is injured.” Alastor’s hand came to the small of your back. You reached back with your left hand and knocked it off of you. 
“Like, the real actual cupid?!” Charlie’s eyes were shining, you could almost see the hearts floating up around her face. You felt Alastor’s hand again, now on your hip. You took three steps to the right, slipping from his fingertips.
“Yes, that is exactly what I-.” You were cut off, Charlie launching into a speech about sinners and heaven and redemption and so much more you couldn’t process. 
The energy she gave us was very angelic, which was confusing. Until you saw her father entering the common area.
The most hated creature in all of creation. Your best hope for a tiny sliver of comfort. 
Alastor’s hand reached for yours, fingers trapping your wrist and stopping you from approaching the king of hell. 
You shook your arm. His hold stayed. You tugged. He was unaffected, talking to Charlie now about your injury as if you weren’t right there. 
As Cupid, or at least as a cupid, you weren’t physically strong. You really weren’t meant to exist for a long time, just for as long as your body held up to repeated trips to the human realm. But, in heaven, you were never capable of being harmed. And of course, on earth, you weren’t really corporeal so no harm could come to you. You weren’t built for tug of war with a 7 foot tall demon.
“Mr. Devil! Sir!” You waved your foot, shouting out to the normal sized man. As he saw you, his eyes widened, “Hello there! Sorry to be a bother, I’m from heaven and-” You jerked your hand free, power walking to Lucifer, “I’m here on punishment. It’s a pleasure to meet another member of Elysium’s caretakers. Former or otherwise.”
Flustered, Lucifer fumbled with his phone before dropping it. “Oh! Shit! H-hello!”
You reached down to retrieve it for him, seeing black and red shoes behind you as you did. 
“What — why are you here?” Lucifer was looking at Alastor now, which was great news because for a second you thought he was talking to you. A sneaking feeling leaked into your chest that heaven hadn’t actually told him you were coming. 
“Just keeping an eye on my guest! As you can see she got injured and I’ve taken to the task of her safety while she’s in hell.” 
“No one asked him to do that, sir.” Your smile was strained, you could feel Alastor’s shoulder was touching yours. You looked to where you were connected and then back to Lucifer, “Are all sinners like this?”
“Honestly? Yes. They’re all pretty terrible.” Lucifer sighed, “What did you do?”
A cold sweat, “Misused an arrow. I can’t leave hell until I make a demon who doesn’t already believe in true love…believe in it.”
“Oh no! That’s— you’re gonna be here awhile.” Lucifer pulled at his collar in a mock attempt to release the awkward heat of the conversation. He saw you wither, and Alastor seemed to bloom, so he quickly changed pace, “But! Uhhh, you can totally do it! Charlie has some of the best of the worst here. If I can ever help, just ask!” Nervous laughter that did not put you at ease. He seemed so silly. So sweet and easily flustered. 
You felt your hope dash for a second time in less than a day. How long would you be in hell? How long was awhile?
“She is my responsibility now. She won’t be needing anything from you, your majesty.”
A darkness came over you as the two demons began to bicker. You now had your own obsessed shadow; a large and creepy sinner following you around. How on earth could you get close enough to a demon to complete your task? Convincing someone of true love would require trust and time. This would be impossible with Alastor attached to your side. 
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You spent the first week in hell in the hotel. Everytime you got the courage to leave and explore the areas outside, you’d find yourself shadow portaled “back to safety” by Alastor. It was like the human film ‘Groundhog Day’, always starting over back in the lobby. 
No matter where you went in the hotel, he was either beside you or where you had been headed. You saw the sky less often than Alastor’s grin and you couldn’t stand it. You took to hiding, leaning against darkened stairwell corners and sitting on the floor of the ladies restroom. 
It bought you a little time to yourself, but the second you moved he was there again. Asking if you were a lost little doe, hand reaching for your waist to pull you near him, red eyes threatening to swallow you whole.
Toward the end of the week, while helping you get dressed as he did daily, Alastor took a step back. “I could get you some new clothes. Cannibal town has the finest duds.” He lifted the lace that lined the top of your  pocket, “You stick out. No demon is going to let you trick them into believing in true love like this.”
You could have screamed. No, no demon would even approach you with Alastor standing behind you. It absolutely wasn’t the clothes. You politely rejected the offer and went about your day.
The next morning you awoke to find your floor littered with strips of something. Flinging open the armoire you found two empty hangers. You turned back, noticing the white and purple color to the fabric confetti.
The march to Alastor’s room was easy, as it was 10 feet in front of your door. He had placed you directly across from him, because, ya know, Mania.
He clearly hadn’t expected you to leave your room in your underwear, eyes like saucers as he yanked you in.
“What in heaven are you doing?! Anyone could see you.” He hissed, closing the door with a little too much force.
“Whose fault is that?!” You seethed in return. Anger was something you rarely ever felt but he was inspiring new things in you. “Someone shredded my clothes.”
Alastor’s ears folded back, eyes looking to the left and up, “Odd. Are you sure? Maybe you accidentally threw them away.” That devilish grin you’d come to expect. He knew damn well how stupid that was.
You stomped your foot, if you had two working hands you’d try to rip his antlers off, “Are you serious?!” You turned to leave, kicking the door before attempting to open it.
A large hand pressed back on the door, slamming it shut. His breath was dropping down the back of your neck despite his considerable height, “You will not be leaving this room in such a state of undress, my dear.”
His voice was so low and close, had anyone ever spoken to you with such a commanding tone? A new feeling twitched in you. You blocked it out.
“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” said too softly.
His other hand came to press on the door, too. An arm to either side of you, trapped, as he leaned in. You pressed yourself against the door to make distance from his body.
“Oh, I absolutely do. Who is going to stop me? You?” Alastor’s voice had noticeably dropped an octave as he whispered what felt like a challenge against your hair.
Who indeed…you had no strength, an arrow would either be useless or complicate things. Lucifer seemed preoccupied and jittery. Heaven wasn’t returning your prayers.
He took your silence as an answer.
“Exactly. Now, I’ll only ask nicely once.” His hands left, warmth on your neck fading. You turned to look at him, sensing his eyes burning holes into your back.
He was holding a two piece set. Older style, 1920s American maybe. Black and burgundy. When did he have time to get this when every hour seemed to be spent near you?
“May I help you get dressed?”
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You’d gotten quite close with the few residents who didn’t run at the sight of Alastor. Husk was one of them. You became fast friends, often drinking and lamenting about Alastor’s general existence as Alastor sat some 15 feet away on the sofa. Still not allowed outside the hotel gates, your second week you spent many hours at the bar talking to the surprisingly kind grump.
To your delight Alastor didn’t seem bothered by it, oddly, as long as you were in eyesight he seemed content.
You thought maybe his mania was already waning. Sure you hadn’t attempted to leave the hotel, and you hadn’t argued when he dressed you, but…Ah, hm. Fuck.
Mania can look like Love when you don't struggle against it. A fly motionless in a web can elude the spider for a little bit.
Don't push against the restraints and you can forget they are there entirely.
But push you did, accidentally. Husk was making some new cocktails, trying to enjoy himself and be creative. 
“Yeah, that’s it.” He grinned.
“Good?” 
He took another sip before handing the glass to you. You grabbed it, taking a taste. Sweet but a bite as it went down. Something with citrus. When you looked up from the glass, he was gone.
A choking noise from behind the bar made you stand up in your seat, eyes flying from Husk to Alastor. A glowing green leash dragging Husk across the floor, his hands desperately pulling at the collar as he struggled to breath. 
“Stop!” You shouted, crawling over the bar and grabbing the chain with your good arm. You tried to pull back, to slow the choking force, but got pulled along with it. “Alastor!” You screamed as your shoulder hit the floor and sent searing pain down your arm. 
You could hear Husk gasp, the green glow disappearing from past your clenched eyelids. 
“Why can’t you-,” Alastor started to speak a he came to your side. Husk scurried away, crawling back from the demon. You hit the hand Alastor offered you but were surprised to see his face painted with concern.
“I said stop.” After rolling to your feet you began to march away. “Every time I find something nice in this piece of shit domain you remind me I’m in hell.”
You had almost made it to your room when a hand pulled you by the good shoulder and pushed you against the wall. It still hurt. 
“Don’t you know? Sharing a drink, it’s as close to a kiss as you could get without bringing your mouth to his.”
“It was a drink, Alastor. You had no right.”
His hand settled on your throat. No grip, just a gentle placement, “I have every right.” His brows knit together in worry, in confusion. “What should I do to make you understand me?” His hand came to your chin, thumb ghosting over your lips.
“If I let you go too far, someone will surely take you. Who wouldn’t? Please. Stop pushing me so much.” His eyes were almost loving as they shined down at you. His breath was picking up. You could hear the desperation in his voice. 
Those damned eyes were unrelenting in their stare into your own. There was no creature in presence or audacity in heaven like Alastor. You’d never encountered anything like him. 
“Of all the Love you had to take a stray hit from, Mania really was the cruelest accident.” You held your hand at the crook of your neck, wondering if you did more damage. No, if he did more damage.
“Mania? Is that the arrow I caught? How fitting.” His finger pulled down on your bottom lip. You’d seen this movie, you’d been there for these scenes in dorm rooms and under rainy awnings, in darkened beds and sunny fields. You could move, no part of him was actually holding you physically. “Yes, maybe I am obsessed. But whose fault is that? Will you take responsibility for it?” His chest was shaking with every breath. Why didn’t you move? Just walk away. Knock off that touch as you had been doing. You hadn’t noticed how quickly you were breathing, too, until his hand was pulling your chin up and towards his face.
It only came out as a whisper, half said as it was only half meant, “don’t.”
A laugh, “At least pretend you mean it.” 
Your knees came together in some desperate attempt to stop the feeling creeping up your legs and to your lap, “Apologize to Husk.”
“Why would I ever do such a thing?” His breath was so warm on your mouth, face tilted to keep his nose from hitting yours.
“What a terrible reply!” You slid down the wall and slipped under his arms, “If you shadow work your way into this room I will fuck that horny spider on camera just to spite you.” You opened your door, pausing to make sure he was still down the hall, “Angel on Angel, working title.”
Your whole body went slack, the sounds of a wild animal loose in the hallway rocking the door as you took shaky steps to the bed, paintings on the walls rattling as he did unseen damage. Sounds of an unknown, unholy animal raging just past the thin drywall. 
Had you ever seen Mania work so quickly with so little fuel? Hand coming to your mouth, a burning where his finger touched you. 
No one had touched your lips before. No one could ever hope to. Humans were beyond the realm of feeling you, and you didn’t allow kissing with the partners you took in heaven. Personal rule. As in, it was too personal.
The lights in your room flickered, briefly shrouding you in darkness before coming back to life.
Deja vu.
Oh.
What had he introduced himself as? The radio demon? It wasn’t heaven who brought you to the hotel. Of course not. 
No. Obviously not.
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re
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The Lean
Alastor x female reader
Summary: You ask Alastor to do THE LEAN on the doorframe that the book men do ;)
A/N- I GOT GIDDY WRITING THIS MYSELF :D
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You always had your nose in a book, usually a romance novel featuring tall, dark, and handsome men. On this particular day, you wanted to conduct an "experiment," and you had the perfect candidate: The Radio Demon. You had asked around to find him because he was ALWAYS somewhere.
"Did you check the radio tower?" Charlie said.
"His shady bedroom?" Angel said.
Well, he just so happened to be walking down the narrow hallway of the hotel, humming a merry tune with his head up, eyes closed, and spinning his cane.
"Alastor! Just the man I wanted to see," you said. He stopped humming and halted in his tracks, turning to look at you.
"Is that so, my dear? And what can I offer you?" he smiled at you. You hoped he would agree to your experiment.
"Come here," you instructed him, and he obliged. "Do you think you could imitate the book men leaning against the doorframe for me?" you asked. He only raised a brow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Why, my dear, whatever for?" he inquired.
"Just for an experiment," you said, one step closer to your goal. He is the perfect candidate: tall, dark, and, as some like Angel Dust would say, creepy, but you generally found him quite handsome. You weren't sure why or what brought you to this conclusion, but hey.
Although Alastor let out a hum, his interest was piqued. "Alright then, I shall indulge you. What is it that you wish to accomplish with this?"
"You know how in those romance novels, the book men always lean against the doorframe all casually, with one arm up like this?" you mimicked the pose, raising your arm and resting it above your head. His stance mirrored that of a book man leaning against the door frame as you had described. His dark eyes roamed you slowly, his lip curled in a taunting smirk. "Like this?"
Effortlessly adopting the pose you described, his tall frame seemed to fill the space with an air of charm and sophistication, sending a shiver of delight down your spine. Alastor's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his eyes hooded with a hint of affection. A warmth spread through your chest as you gazed into his mesmerizing eyes, completely lost in the moment.
You couldn't help but feel giddy and have a blush creep up on your cheeks. Alastor let out another hum as he observed your reaction, replying with a big toothy grin. "Was this the desired effect of this experiment, my dear?" he asked playfully, as his one arm rested above his head, his other hand on your cheek.
His fingers gently trailed along your jawline, noticing that your blush was deepening by the second, while his one arm still rested on the doorframe above his head. "Okay, okay," you said, getting giddy again as you looked into his eyes, which looked right back at yours. You couldn't bring yourself to not fall right into him and lean on the little space he left on the doorframe; it was almost like he was caging you in.
"You know, my dear, watching you blush is rather... endearing..." You shoved him playfully, and he soon pushed off the doorframe. Turning on his heel, he paused and looked back at you.
"Thanks for letting me be your test monkey," he said, making his merry way, leaving you standing there stunned.
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Lost And Found
PLATONIC Father!Alastor x Gn!Child!Reader
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TW:Susan.
A/N: PART TWO OF TOO LATE!! Credits to the Amazing Anon for the prompt and @aboyscriminalrecord FOR THE AMAZING ART!! AUNTIE ROSIE IS WHAT I LIVE FOR
First Prompt, Second Prompt
Rosie was walking through Cannibal Town when she first met you. Standing in the middle of the road, shaking like a leaf as you cried your little heart out. She couldn’t leave a small thing like you alone, so she walked over watching as the smaller ears littered with small little dots fell back on your head. A little doe lost in the scary world, where were your parents? 
She crouched down and held out her hands, “Hi there Little one,” She started watching you look around before moving closer towards her as a few people stopped to watch. Your little hooves clicking on the asphalt of the road as your hands held onto hers. You felt safe with her, the same feeling of safety that you associated with your papa and grandma, she was safe? But where was your papa? You wanted to see him again.
~~~
You lost track of how long you’ve been with Auntie Rosie but it’s been fun! You get to run around the town and play with other kids which was something that you could never really do because of how sick you were. It wasn’t until an older lady with a weird looking scarf came out and started yelling at your group that you got upset.
You weren’t near her garden! You were on the opposite side of the road! You huffed and turned to ignore her, you couldn’t go back to Auntie Rosie cause she said she was having an old friend over and you weren’t supposed to meddle in adult business but you didn’t want to play with an old lady that was yelling at you. So you walked back towards Auntie Rosie’s store, as the old lady followed you yelling even more. 
Rosie got a surprise when she watched as Susan walked in, yelling at her about the little child she was taking care of. She sent Alastor an apologetic glance that he had waved off as he stared at Susan, who was yelling about how their clothes were dirty and how they were too close to her garden. As she finally got Susan to calm down, which took a lot of time, the sound of small hooves on the tiled floor caught her attention and then a soft sounding, “Papa?” echoed throughout the room. The room fell silent as she looked over to see you hiding behind the counter as you stared at Alastor.
Alastor’s head snapped towards the sound before his hands started to shake as he stared down at you. What were you doing down in hell? You were supposed to be up in Heaven with his Mama. He stood up as Rosie looked at him but he didn’t pay no mind as he slowly walked over watching as your eyes lit up and you smiled at him. He was silent for too long as he crouched down to your height, “Hello little fawn,” He whispered out trying to hold back the tears as you ran forward and hugged his arm, little tail wagging a mile a minute. 
He carefully picked your tinier body up, it still felt light as it did when you died and he cursed at himself for it. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck as you talked all about Rosie and the new friends you had made in the town, he buried his face into your hair, careful of the tiny ears on your head as he silently cried. He was happy he had you back in his arms after all of this time but then he blamed himself, dragging his child down into hell with him? What kind of Father did that?
A soft hand was placed on his shoulder and he glanced up to see Rosie smiling at him. “I’ll go make some more tea,” She whispered as he looked back down at you, his little fawn. He’d do it right this time, he’ll protect you from everything that dared put you in harm's way and he’ll try to find a way to put you in heaven with his Mama. You didn’t belong down here with him.
He’d worry about that later. Right now he just wanted to hold you in his arms for just a moment longer.
Taglist: @misty-melody, @littledolly2345
A/N: ANON IF YOUR SEEING THIS I HOPE ITS LIVING UP TO YOUR IDEA!! ALSO HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS!!!
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Note
Y/n is bored
Y/n stuffs a blanket under their shirt and walks in the room where everyone is chilling
Y/n : Alastor I'm pregnant
Everyone : *dead silent*
Alastor : ho-
Y/n : we held hands and kissed, now take responsibility. (they accidentally swapped cups it was indirect-)
*proceeds to watch chaos unfold*
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jyoongim · 1 day
Note
the wheel has chosen
🥁🥁🥁
🔴 prompt #3 and 19!!!
prompt 3, #19 Mild sexual tension, high emotion: fixes makeup for them
Alastor had invited you on an outing with him.
You had got all pretty and was enjoying yourself.
Your hair was curled to perfection, makeup was popping, and you wore the cutest outfit.
Alastor thought you were gorgeous.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
Especially your pouty lips that were painted a lovely shade of red.
The two of you stopped by Rosie’s and the tall woman cooed over you, chastising Alastor for keeping a pretty thing all to himself.
”Come now Alastor she’s way to young for you” she teased making you blush and Alastor roll his eyes.
He had business with Rosie today and left you to roam about her emporium.
Rosie had offered you to taste anything that caught your fancy and give your opinions.
”Now Alastor I know you dont parade around with a pretty thing like that unless you like her” Rosie smiled as she caught the Overlord watching you, tasting a sample of butter fingers.
Alastor cleared his throat, turning his attention to his friend.
”She’s more tolerable to be around than most” he commented making Rosie hum as she sipped her tea.
”Uh huh. Then why your eyes tracking her? I know a man fancying a lady when I see one”
His ears flickered. Did he like you? He did find you quite fascinating. You weren’t scared of him like most and you carried yourself with grace.
You were passionate and very stubborn.
He liked having you around and often looked for you when he wanted to go out. He even bought you things when you expressed an interest in them.
”sooo when you gonna tell her?” That made him blink
He tilted his head in confusion.
Rosie huffed “You better tie her down. Pretty girl like that, I’m sure she’s got plenty of demons looking to sweep her off her feet” 
He bristled. No one was better for you than him.
Alastor bid Rosie a goodbye and looped his arm with yours to head back to the hotel. You must have indulge in some goodies as your lipstick was now gone.
”Dear your lipstick is gone” he said, making you gasp as you pulled out your compact to look at your makeup. You pouted and pulled out your lipstick, blinking when he took the tube and cradled your chin, tilting it up to him.
”allow me”
His eyes traced the red as it painted your lips red.
It matched his attire well.
It truly was a lovely color on you.
”There” you rubbed your lips together and smiled at him.
”Thank you Al”
He nodded and the two of you continued on your way.
He wondered how that shade would look smeared.
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bella-goths-wife · 1 day
Note
How would Pet reader and Alastor interact after he returned from his 7 year long absence?
How would Alastor and pet interact after his absence
I assume you mean in the canon au and not the alastor makes a deal with you au but if I’m wrong feel free to request again :)
I’m sorry it’s not much interacting but they don’t really meet much at this point in the story
Warnings: abuse mentioned, obsessive behaviour
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After his seven year absence, alastor did try to subtly seek you out
He lingered around where he met you and expected to find you in the same position you were in seven years ago, a starving little fawn on the street who was desperate enough for shelter that you’d be willing to make a deal
But he didn’t find you, not a trace of the little doe eyed fool he had felt such a familiarity with
So he cut his losses for the meantime and decided that he would trouble one of the many souls he owned to stalk you down
So imagine his surprise when on a random afternoon he passed by angel and heard your voice from angels annoying little gadget
He asked for a closer look and there you were, the person who had been on his mind for the seven years was stood with the Vs surrounding them
You looked different though
You were cleaner and more well fed, meaning you had been able to escape the cold streets and found food
But there was a difference in your eyes as you posed with the Vs, there was a lack of something
Your eyes didn’t hold the same curiosity or passion that he knew of the girl he met several years ago who was so eager to learn more about her abilities
You looked like a candle lit flame that was running at the bottom of wick and was being drowned out and smothered by candle wax, your fire was slowly dying inside you
He demanded angel showed him everything out there that pertained to you, and angel gladly did with the small hope that maybe alastor would take enough interest in you to help you
Alastor absorbed every piece of media you were in and every sound you had created, anything that the internet held of you alastor would consume
He observed how the passion slowly died from your face and the years went on, he heard how your music which was once so alive and inventive turn into something generic and easily forgotten
In many ways he prepared himself to mourn the person he had met, he doubted that there was any of you left to mourn considering the Vs had drained your presence of its spark
Alastor felt something he hadn’t felt in a while, he felt pity for you
He heard of the horrifying things your were subjected to on a daily basis and he just couldn’t stop the sympathy from bubbling to to the service
He was no good soul owner himself, he was fairly abusive but that’s only when he had to correct behaviour
He felt overwhelming jealousy and anger at Vox over how Vox had claimed your soul before him and ruined you
Alastor could have made you into something great, something more than a pet to the rich for when they felt cruel or bored
Alastor was almost ready to give up on you and see you as a failed project, but something stopped him
angel had mentioned your acts of kindness towards him and alastor had to hear of your very intriguing presence from Charlie, so he decided to test you before giving up to see if you were worth more effort
He followed you for weeks on end with his shadows, and he saw many things
He saw how your cunning side could slip out when you saw an opportunity to escape a punishment and how manipulative you could be
He also saw how your anger had gotten the best of you on many occasions and watched as your powers manifested into something dangerous, something lethal
He fantasied about making you into a powerful being, someone who could one day be on a level close to his
He wanted to sculpt you like a sculpture and make you into something bigger than the pentagram had ever seen, he wanted to protect you from the past and make you strong enough to protect yourself from the present
He had angel dust sneak into your room and slip a radio under your bed so he could listen in to your surroundings
He heard you be your authentic self without having to water yourself down
He heard your moments of brief happiness and he heard the many overwhelmingly cruel acts committed to you
He heard your sobs and swear for a minute he felt himself grow caring enough to want to comfort you
So he played a soothing song from the radio once you were too distracted by your sobbing, so it could calm you to sleep and at least offer you the minimal comfort he could offer to you
He felt himself growing attached to the idea of bringing you back to the hotel and surrounding you in his arms like a child to make sure you wouldn’t have to see the faces of your abusers again
He began concocting plans to help you escape, and he was determined to one day own your soul so he could sculpt you in his image like he intended to do several years ago
He had never felt himself caring about anyone this much, he had a need to know where you were at all times and even felt himself grow antsy to see you in person and talk with you like you once did
Parts of him even felt a paternal sense of worry and concern over you in a way he’s never experience before
And he was determined to save you from Vox and bring you home
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@lilyalone @repostingmyfavs @the-faceless-bride @idontreallyexistyet @hazbinhotelxreader @corvid007 @fandomaddict505 @buttercupfangirl @ivebeenthearchersstuff @sparkleyfishies @perkypeony @rerarlo
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multi-fandom-imagine · 19 hours
Note
Alastor giving you a massage to doothe period cramps fix maybe? Please?
A/n: Of course! Its been a while since I've written anything for him
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Whimpering, you tossed and turned on the bed as your cramps hit you again. Your nails digging into the blanket as you took a breath in hoping the pain would vanish.
"This sucks."
"Is something a matter? Do you have a reason to why you are rolling around."
Hissing, you narrowed your eyes glaring at the demon then turned away. "I'm on my period...you asshole." You did your best to not snap at him as you brought your knees to your chest.
Clicking his tongue, Alastor stepped close then laid down beside you as he placed his hand on your belly then started to message. You knew most people were afraid of him, everyone must have thought he was an asshole but to you....to you he was yours.
He knew how to make you feel better, how to cheer you up whenever you were feeling down. Closing your eyes you nodded your head. Alastor knew where to rub, you could feel the pain slowly ebbing away as sleep starts to take you.
"Thank you Alastor."
Warmth now on his finger tips, Alastor then placed on hand on your hip as he tugged you closer helping rid your cramps to let you fall asleep. "Now,now dear. You have nothing to thank me for."
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krahk · 3 days
Text
Blood for Ruin
Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four
Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)
Part Five
(Or, Alastor gets even)
18+ Smuttempt occurs below
Once again, you were back to being an ignored figure to Alastor. He kept his distance from you since your date with yourself, clearly getting the message that you were not at all pleased with his behaviour that resulted in your crude payback. Or, it could also be that we were only one month away from extermination, Charlie and Vaggie currently up in heaven for their promised meeting set by Lucifer. This had resulted in everyone constantly making sure that you guys were all ready to fight back in case things went sideways. Things were stressful, and although you could have loved to revisit your little handheld-helper again, you were hyper focused on helping everyone else out.
Besides, it was supposed to be a private action, and the idea that no matter what, someone knew what you were doing made you hesitate. The other night vengeance had taken over, but now embarrassment led your thoughts at the idea of doing it again. You were quite thankful Alastor had been keeping his distance because you were sure the two of you would literally drop dead from your embarrassment upon eye contact. At least this distance would give the two of you a break from Angel Dust’s inquisitive eye.
Tonight however, you were eager to forget your inner thoughts regarding Alastor, the vibrator, the extermination, anything really - you guys were going out. Cherri Bomb, one of Angel's friends outside the hotel, had really made an exploding entrance into your night that ended up with a night out on the town courtesy of Charlie’s wallet. You had thought about the agreement you had with Alastor regarding you out and about, and you would be with Husk - and everyone else as well. Strength in numbers, right? Besides, Cherri seemed an absolute menace, you doubted many would be giving you a hard time. Angel had thrown you a tight little black dress with attached sleeves, but with a straight collar that went across your chest, sleeves of the dress attached at either side exposing your shoulders, neck and upper chest. It was truly super cute, black was a great colour on you as it made you look a little more lively. Your little tail was given the tiniest little hole to poke through, which you were grateful for many reasons, the main one being it would help keep the dress down. Angel was a very slim person, and while you weren’t some Marilyn figure, you still had hips, which made the dress look a lot shorter and scandalous than the two of you thought it would. But, double-death could be a month away, it was time to live it up! Sober and responsibly, Angel followed up with, hand to his heart but a wide smile and a wink.
As the two of you made your way downstairs, your eyes lingered on Alastor’s door. It would be polite to mention the group was going out, not that he would join, but just to give him a heads up you wouldn’t be in the hotel. Angel continued without you as you faked forgetting an item in your room, but you stared, hand up to knock, for a moment. The click of the door startled you, and you took a step back from surprise. Alastor was staring down at you with a poker face, eyebrows raised in a very condescending manner as he looked you over. You were wearing a jean jacket over the dress, but it was still pretty short. Paired with strappy high heels, anyone else would have really complimented you. He, however, coming from a different time, simply stared.
”Y~ees?” He sang, waiting for your response. You scrambled to get your words formed, fingers twisting fingers as you tried to speak. Oh this was awkward for sure. Regret from your actions was building up but you fought through it and just said your piece in a rush, not even taking a breath through it.
”The hotel is going out-Charlie’s idea as team building, I’m going,there are so many of us it’s literally everyone but Charlie and Vaggie and, well, you if you don’t come but I thought I would let you know and-“
”Oo~ooh, that does sound like fun. A night on the town does a wonder for the soul! I wish for you all to have a grand, safe, time. I, however, will not be joining. I am very selective of my social gatherings and this sort of group surely will not meet my high expectations. So farewell for now!” He cut you off, said his piece, and ended with a firmly shut door to his bedroom.
Okay. Okay! That was approval for sure. Not that you needed it, you were a free willed individual, you thought rebelliously, thought you probably would have stayed behind if he told you to. Pushing your luck didn’t seem like a good idea. As you skipped downstairs to join the others, you were so happy with the idea of going out with friends, you were going to make sure nothing could go wrong tonight.
Unfortunately someone else had other plans.
The club Cherri brought everyone too was pretty standard. It was nearly identical to ones you had visited while alive, hues of blues and reds flaring around with loud music, questionable drinks, and smiling drunk idiots everywhere. Although you were happy to be out, your last event while out made you want to keep your head straight. This meant nursing your drink all night, and staying close to the stronger personalities in an attempt to create distance from any unscrupulous members of hell's society. Angel had been hovering around Nifty, the smaller creature getting herself into immediate trouble. She started sweeping almost immediately before going into a steep descent into dark behaviours. But, despite her chaotic little actions, you couldn’t help but agree with Husk that a night out like this was well deserved.
Suddenly, Angel came across Valentino, and Husk jumped up to help. Alastor had reminded you a few weeks after your agreement that you were to stay far away from the Vee’s, as they had it out for Alastor. In fact, it was very very important they didn't find out about you, so you figured you would take this opportunity to run to the bathroom to stay out of trouble. After a while, with you just leaning against the wall politely greeting other patrons, Angel walked in looking for you. He chatted you up for a second before you doubled over in surprise.
”Hey toots, you okay?” Angel’s concerned voice asked.
OH god. Oh god oh god oh god, your body had taken control of itself, and you were suddenly wet, throbbing, and aroused. As Angel’s upper hands came to grab your cheeks, his midsection hands rested on your shoulders, bracing you up a bit. A strained moan came out of you as he forced your eyes to meet his.
”Whoa baby, you don’t look so hot. How much did ya have to drink??” Even though he wasn’t doing anything remotely sexual, Angel’s many arms grabbing onto you securely were enough to make your body go through a full chill. Your breathing was turning into panting, and your brow had a sheen of sweat. You dipped your head and looked through Angel’s arms to catch yourself in the mirror. The face you had was erotic. Angel’s eyebrows were raised, and he suddenly a look of recognition passed on his face.
“Did you get hit with Valentino’s smoke? Oh shit, fuck, shit shit doll. That ain’t good.” He went into panic mode, and moved you into a stall. “Stay here, I gotta get Cherri - I - we gotta go.”
“Nnnggnoooo” You forced out, both to him leaving and his thoughts of what was happening to you. You knew what was happening, it was your turn. And what a time he picked to reciprocate your little punishment. Out with friends, just trying to have a chill time without drawing any attention to yourself, knowing you would have to stick around them to stay safe in a new place. Broadcasting to strangers was not as scary as having uncontrollable urges in a bathroom with your closest Hell friends, at least for you. Your face, already red with arousal, had burned hotter from embarrassment at the manic attention Angel was giving you. Yet still managed to lock the stall door after he closed it and fled the bathroom.
You on the other hand, had squeezed your legs together and braced your hands on either side of the stall walls to hopefully work some of your pent up arousal. Your clit, even untouched by anything other than underwear, felt as if it was being stroked, the pulsing phantom pressure soaking the material under your dress. But suddenly the need stilled. It was like someone had pressed pause on the sensations. But after a minute of getting your breathing and body under control, the arousal came back twice as strong. Oh fuck this, fuck him. You needed to figure this out before Angel came back, so you decided to take charge and hurry through what was happening.
You braced your feet on either side of the stall door, halfway up, riding your dress up and exposing your damp panties to the cool air of the bathroom. You were barely able to hear any of the activity of people coming in and out, your heartbeat was pounding in your head. Like before, the desire had subsided for a moment, and you hesitated. Still, you moved your hands towards your pussy, one hand pulling your panties to the side while the other touched your outer lips lightly, silently moaning at the realisation of exactly how wet you were. With just a simple touch your fingers were coated, a line of sticky fluid trailing out of you to your fingers. Jesus Christ, whatever he was doing was fucking intense, this was insanity.
Unable to wait for him to figure it out and finish the two of you off, you were about to just plunge your fingers into yourself to continue feeding into your desire when again, the stroking, ghostly sensation over your clit returned. Oh sweet unholy fuck, he was edging you. Edging. You slipped your two middle fingers into your body, feverishly pumping them in and out, moaning at the sound your fingers were making. You could hear it, but you hoped that the loud music from outside the room covered it up for possible spectators. Your other hand holding your panties aside did double duty, your middle finger putting a rough pressure onto your clit, the thought of this feeling stopping suddenly again making you move quickly.
Holy fucking fuckity shit fuck, this was the most intense feeling of pleasure you had ever felt. It was like there was another set of hands ghosting over your clit and pussy while you fingered yourself desperately. You wondered if he could feel a similar sensation wherever he was, and that made you moan low and long. The Radio Demon wasn’t terrible to look at when he wasn’t frightening, but imagining whatever face he had to have while doing this, with his permanent smile straining on his face was taking you over the edge. You added another finger and increased your speed on your clit.
The buildup was twofold, and suddenly your hips jerked up, your feet losing the traction on the door and your body came forward as you rode out your orgasm. Your fingers were still pumping in and out slowly as the high ran out, your breathing ragged. You took your fingers out and raised them up, a thick line of desire following them. Proof of your cum had covered your fingers, glassy from your actions. Your clit still throbbing, you twitched as you stood and fixed your underwear, your forehead coming to rest on the stall door while you caught your breath.
Your ears twitched as your head became clear of your heartbeat, and you figured sooner than later was best to clean yourself up. Flying out of the stall, very lucky it was empty in the bathroom. Starting to wash your hands, Angel burst in with Nifty (who had been crying about her dirty hands) and let out a relieving sigh as you made eye contact in the mirror. You gave an embarrassed smile and said you threw up and felt way better, getting a laugh from the man, who said you couldn’t hold your liquor.
Good thinking. You were getting better at lying down here in hell. As he helped Nifty with her hands you readjusted your skirt, pulling it down as low as possible, hoping no one would be able to see the giant patch of proof in between your legs. Angel had announced he was tired and over the night, exhausted from his confrontation with Valentino and dealing with Nifty, and that the group would be heading home. You nodded with agreement, glad to get home and forget that you had just had a full on jilling session in a public bathroom like some kind of depraved voyeur. As the group began home, you thought about whether or not this made the two of you even, or it made you want to raise the bar in return. When the group arrived back to the hotel, you, Husk and Pentious sat at the bar while the bartender poured a couple of shots for everyone.
Pentious clearly over his limit had promptly passed out on the bar, leaving you and Husk to the booze and conversation. He was easy to talk to, and you to him as well, since you didn’t really have a traumatic or interesting life before hell. It was easy to just shoot the shit with him as a friend and not a therapist. When you missed your mouth on a shot and clanked the shot glass into your teeth, the two of you drunkenly laughed and agreed it was time for bed. Waving a goodbye, you slowly, very slowly, made your way upstairs, holding on to the railing for dear life. Hah. Deer life. You were giggling to yourself, still chuckling when you arrived on your floor. As you walked by Alastors room you noticed the light filtering through the bottom, and the light sound of smooth jazz coming from it. In a split second, he was in the open door, and you looked at your hand that was knotted into a fist, throbbing slightly from obviously knocking on the door.
You took Alastor in, who was dressed in his usual attire, but his tie and jacket had been removed, and his shirt was unbuttoned a few buttons, with the sleeves rolled up. His chest had similar small scars on it like his arms, and you heard your name come out of his mouth ( you think a couple of times) but you were still staring into your fist, confused that it had a life of its own. Alastors loud, Ah-Hem finally woke you out of your frustrated stupor. The two of you made eye contact and, feeling far bolder with the liquid courage in your veins, decided you would let him have it. Oh goody!
”I knnn~ow what you tried to do tonight! You big Radio Bully! So rude! I had to fuck myself in a public bathroom. Gross! And I was like, so wet too what did you do to -“ You were ripped into his room, his hand over your mouth and door slamming behind you. You bit his hand and he whipped it back to himself, shocked and aggravated by your actions. You had drawn blood, and looked at your own hand. You laughed as you brought it up, “This is so stupid ha~haa…” It was just a little bite, one that had already started healing itself, but Alastor had brought his hand up to his mouth and stuck his tongue out to lick the blood that had escaped his wound. You felt a similar hot sensation roll over your own hand and you shuddered at his actions, his eyebrows raising. “Were you able to feel that?” He asked, pleased when you nodded.
“Yea, and I was able to feel everything whatever you did hic earlier too. My whole body felt on fire you dick.” You interjected, resulting in his face going stoic once more as you continued. “You were mean, so mean! Edging is cruel and unusual hic pussimen-punmenship…fuck…punishment!” You snapped your finger guns his way, proud of yourself. Your smile dropped slightly when his became larger across his face, and he took a very small step towards you which resulted in an immediate step back. Which then resulted in a stumble back where you had to brace yourself up with hands on either side of you. He closed the gap quickly, with you able to feel the heat of his body radiating off him.
“Well, my dear, you deserved it.” He said, just above a whisper, his mouth inches away from your face. “Punishment for your interference with my work.” He straightened up but did not step back, looking down at you. You could imagine what you looked like right now. Wide eyes, drunk, very drunk, slightly shaky knees at the effect his voice was having on you and clearly a blush crawling across your cheeks as you noticed his do the same. He coughed into his hand and raised an eyebrow.
“You are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you? So good to know!” What a sinister statement, did that mean -
“But we’re even now, yea? I did you, you did me, no more rocking each others world without consent with our hibbidy bibbidy connection.” You stated, confused at the turn this was taking. His laugh low, with eyes narrowed, darkening into something more unfamiliar. His cheeks likely burning as hot as yours were now, you frowned in return, and he began to lean towards you again.
“Oh no. This is not simply over. You have taken advantage of this weakness of mine in a grievous manner and I intend to make you understand that your actions have consequences.” The last word almost a whisper, his lips dangerously close to yours. You licked your lips by habit, and glanced from his eyes to his lips a couple of times while a chuckle escaped his. You could almost taste him and it made your body have that now over familiar reaction.
Alastor had closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose while his jaw clenched and smile tightened. Oh he could tell this behaviour was a massive turn on for you. He straightened his posture and grabbed one of your arms to pull you closer to him, with you as compliant as a wet noodle. He pulled you off the door and opened it, beginning to drag you to your own room. You were silent as his firm grip on your arm took over your senses. Were his hands always this big? He seemed like nothing but lean muscles behind a scrawny facade. In a moment you were in your room, Alastor brushing his hands together in an image of a job well done. Or to rid his hands of you, only he knew.
“It is time for bed, you drunk fool.” He turned off your big light and snapped his fingers, turning the small table lamp on behind you. “Sleep off this inevitable hangover, and remember that one is not to mess with me. I will come back tenfold.” You snickered at his unintentional pun and you heard a disappointed sigh in return.
“Ok, I will. I am pretty fucking drunk.” You agreed, nodding your head as you took off your shoes awkwardly. He half turned around to head out the door, but stopped. “Did you come across anyone of interest today?” He asked, only partly curious to the answer, finding it difficult to walk away. He glanced up to the ceiling to avoid making eye contact as you shuffled the tight dress off of you. Naked was always best for drunk sleep, let him be bothered about it. If the two of you could go and get each other off he could deal with seeing your half naked body. You started to crawl under your covers as you responded.
”Yea, we saw Angel’s boss, Valentine.” He scoffed, “Valentino” he corrected. You laughed back at him, “No, he’s an asshole with bad taste and mean to my friend. He doesn’t deserve his name to be right in my brain.” He shook his head at your response, “But I ran into the bathroom. Right before…right before you decided to take over. Angel thought I had been hit by mothmans horny smoke.” He nodded his head in approval as you continued. “But I did have to lie to Angel and tell him I threw up. I didn’t want to worry him or stick around Valentine at all.”
Alastor hummed in approval as he headed to walk out the door, grabbing the doorknob as he began to shut it behind him. “Good girl.” He said, pausing right before closing the door to catch your eyes. Your pussy immediately throbbed as you blushed and brought the blankets up to your chin, gripping them tightly. His smile widened further and he let out a dark laugh, like he just confirmed a theory before closing the door. God-damnit he was good. You whipped your hand under the bed to grab your goody box of toys only to pull a very light one into view.
You have got to be kidding me- yep. Totally empty. Inside the box was just a simple piece of paper. Written on it was a smiley face, but demonic if possible, large spiky teeth and void like eyes for features and familiar ears and antlers. Below the smile was a ‘-A’. You threw the box at the wall and let out a short scream of frustration, Alastors laughter echoing through the walls.
@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff @xalygatorx
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A Dance in Death
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Title: A Dance in Death
Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Word Count: ~3,927
In which Alastor takes the reader out to Mimzy’s club. Things go sideways much too soon, but the Radio Demon is quick to make amends.
A/N: This is a part 2 of sorts to my previous Alastor x reader fic, Doubt, but it can also be read as its own individual fic! Hope you enjoy :)
Mimzy’s speakeasy was most known for three things. 
One, it was known for its captivating acts and performances. Demons and sinners from all around Pentagram City had heard stories and whispers about what could be experienced there. Two, it was known for being one of the most lively and entertaining places on this side of Hell. And three, it was known for being on the wrong side of town, making it the perfect place for no-good demons to spend their time and even do discrete business, so long as they paid their dues to Mimzy, of course.
That last point probably should have kept you away from this place. But you couldn’t help but feel safe knowing that you had come on the arm of the Radio Demon himself. After all, who would dare approach you with Alastor around?
Nobody, as it turned out. You and Alastor had been sitting in a corner booth for almost an hour now, and nobody had dared to come within ten feet of you, save for one unfortunate server who had graciously provided you both with your drinks before scurrying off and hiding, not coming back even once.
And although you enjoyed any time that you got to spend alone with Alastor, you couldn’t help but notice that the two of you were both on edge that night. 
You, on one hand, simply wanted to dance. It wasn’t often that you were able to go to bars or speakeasies, and you would have loved nothing more than to lead the demon across from you on to the dancefloor. But you knew better than that. Alastor’s interest in you came with limits that you hadn’t yet discovered, but you’d be double-damned if you were going to find them out tonight.
Although you had to admit, as you gazed out longingly at the dancing demons on the floor, that you wouldn’t mind at least trying to share a drink and a conversation with your partner. But that wouldn’t happen until Mimzy finally decided to saunter over to your table.
Which led you to the reason for Alastor’s impatience.
The whole reason that he had invited you out tonight was because Mimzy had requested an audience with him at her place of business. To discuss what, you weren’t sure, but you knew that the Radio Demon hated to be kept waiting. 
His impatience was starting to become evident, though it was likely that nobody around you noticed anything amiss. You, however, had become well versed in reading Alastor’s silent cues.
He had yet to touch his drink, though his clawed hand was firmly wrapped around the glass. He was surveying the building with apparent disinterest, but you could see the way that his sharp gaze roamed over each and every other demon and sinner present. You could see tension in the corners of his ever present smile, even though his eyes were hooded in an expression of mild boredom.
As you downed the last drops of your drink, you risked a glance over to Alastor once again. You had wanted to strike up a conversation since you had stepped foot through the door, but hadn’t wanted to distract him from his thoughts. But when his grip around the glass tightened once again, your internal war finally ended. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to have him suddenly lose his composure and bring the whole place to the ground.
You cleared your throat lightly as you placed your glass back down on the table. You received Alastor’s attention immediately, his eyes darting over to yours. “Yes, my dear?”
You smiled back at him. “Mimzy has a lot of nerve hyping this place up when it has such terrible customer service, doesn’t she?”
With no small amount of satisfaction, you noticed Alastor’s smile ease into something that almost resembled kind amusement. “Indeed,” Alastor hummed. “Though I must say, her choice in song is quite enjoyable.”
You shrugged, looking back at the dance floor. “It’s fine to dance to, I suppose. Not so much fun when you’re stuck sitting and waiting for someone to show up.”
There was no response. You returned your gaze to Alastor to see him looking at you almost curiously. “I wasn’t aware that you were one for dancing, my dear.”
A laugh bubbled up and pushed its way through your lips before you could stop it. You pressed your fingers to your lips to try and conceal it as Alastor tilted his head at you in confused interest.
At the sound of your laughter, his shadow suddenly perked up, quickly making its way over and sitting beside you.
When your giggle had finally subsided, you opened your mouth to respond to Alastor’s comment. It wasn’t completely his fault that he knew so little about your past life, after all, but you hadn’t expected that he, of all people, would make such blatant assumptions.
Before you could get a word out, though, the shadow placed a clawed hand under your chin, tilting your head to face it. Its fingers wandered until they reached the base of your throat before gently clawing their way back up, almost as if trying to coax another laugh out of you through touch alone.
It was so much more intimate than you had thought Alastor was capable of.
But then Alastor waved a hand in the air, summoning his shadow back to his side. It obeyed almost immediately, caressing your throat once more before melting back into the floor and returning to its rightful place. 
You cleared your throat again, this time in an attempt to fight the red spots on your cheeks. Not that their presence had escaped Alastor’s notice. His smile had widened dramatically, though thankfully, he chose not to comment on the interaction, instead waiting for a response to his earlier comment.
“I do dance,” you finally replied, looking back up at the Overlord. “I used to dance plenty before…well, you know,” you said with a small grin. “I died.”
Alastor waved away your comment with a flourish. “Ah, yes, I do see how such a thing could impede on your abilities for a moment. Though, if I’m not mistaken, you now have two perfectly functioning legs.”
“But I haven’t been to a club since before I died. And there’s not much opportunity to show off my moves at the hotel,” you replied with a shrug. You tilted your head at the demon. “And you? Do you dance?”
The Overlord smiled wistfully. “Oh yes, I was quite known for my dancing abilities back in the land of the living.”
“I thought you were known for being a mass murdering radio host.”
Alastor shrugged, giving you a devious grin. “I’ve always been multitalented, my dear.”
You laughed again, this time trying to ignore the eager look you received from both Alastor and his shadow.
“You know,” you said slyly once you had calmed yourself, looking down at your empty glass. “I wouldn’t mind brushing up on my skills tonight after your meeting.” You looked up innocently, meeting Alastor’s eyes. “If you haven’t lost your impeccable skills, that is.”
The demon’s eyes flashed. “Careful, mon chere. I-”
“Alastor! How’re you doing, doll?”
You whipped your head around at the sound of the new voice. You stared as a short, blonde woman made her way across the floor, arms raised in welcome and a broad smile on her face. 
Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all bothered as he greeted the woman. “Mimzy, dear,” he drawled, turning away from you. His smile stretched unnaturally. “You are extraordinarily late.”
The woman- Mimzy- waved her hand in indifference. “I’m busy running a business, Al, you know how it is. Can’t eva get anyone to do what you want without a bit of prodding.”
Her gaze slid over to you, eyes widening as her smile grew. “Say, Alastor, did you bring me a new toy?” Her eyes roamed over you slowly. “She’s a little dull, but I can spruce her right up.”
You suddenly felt very exposed.
You recoiled slightly, attempting to keep your movements unnoticeable as you pressed yourself further into the booth to get away from the Mimzy’s prying eyes. 
You tried not to notice the way that other demons and sinners had begun to glance over at the sudden appearance of the bar’s owner. They aren’t looking at you, you told yourself. But you couldn’t help but take in Mimzy’s confident appearance and attitude, coupled with Alastor’s calm poise. You could see how the Mimzy could have mistaken you for one of Alastor’s wayward souls.
Almost as if it could sense your discomfort, Alastor’s shadow suddenly reared up and placed itself directly in front of you, blocking you from Mimzy’s line of sight. 
“Unfortunately, Mimzy dear,” Alastor said from opposite you, though he avoided looking in your direction. “Charlie has grown quite attached to her little friend, and I doubt she would be thrilled to discover that I had allowed her to become a part of your…”
“Productions,” you piped up. Alastor’s shadow looked back at you in delight before shifting through the air to sit beside you once again.
“Precisely,” Alastor said.
Mimzy only shrugged, giving you a wink. “Well, I’m here if you change your mind, hun.” 
She turned back to Alastor. “Let’s you and me talk for a bit, huh? I know this sorta thing ain’t really your cup of tea. I’ve got a room in the back that we can use. Your little doll will be alright on her own for a while, won’t she?”
At her words, Alastor finally turned to face you once again, his eyes roaming over your face for only a moment before he stood. “Of course. I never would have brought her otherwise.”
With that, he made to follow Mimzy without so much as a glance back in your direction. A move that he had made on purpose, you were sure. After all, it simply wouldn’t do to have others believe that the Radio Demon actually cared for someone.
Even so, you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment as the two sinners walked away. From beside you, in the dim light that the club so generously provided, Alastor’s shadow placed its hand on yours comfortingly. You turned to face it with a smile. “At least I still have you.”
The shadow grinned, using its other hand to gently cradle your cheek, pulling you closer until your foreheads met. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling as your heart grew light. The shadow might not have been Alastor himself, but you had learned enough to know that it was heavily influenced by Alastor’s own thoughts, feelings, and commands. This was as close to affectionate that he would ever be with you.
Suddenly, the shadow’s touch left you.
You opened your eyes to see that it was nowhere to be seen.
“My, my,” a voice said from behind you. You jerked forward in surprise, spinning around to see a tall, winged imp casually leaning against the booth. He definitely hadn’t been in the building a few minutes ago, you noted. 
The imp leaned forward. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”
You flushed, glancing around to see if you could catch a glimpse of Alastor’s shadow. But it was as if it had never been beside you in the first place. Which would explain why the imp had decided to approach you at all. Nobody would have dared spoken to you if they knew that you were here with an Overlord.
You opened your mouth to tell him as much before you caught yourself, clamping your mouth shut. No matter how well Alastor’s conversation went with Mimzy, it was likely that he never would have danced with you anyway. There were too many eyes and ears here for him to let his guard down.
“You here alone?” the imp asked, trying his luck once more.
You fixed a smile on your face. If this was your only chance to dance, you were sure as Hell going to take it.
You stood, extending your hand in greeting. “Would you like to dance?”
The imp’s flirtatious smile changed to one of intrigue. “Straight to the point. I like it.”
You wiggled your fingers. “Are we going to dance, or what?”
The imp grinned, taking your hand and leading you on to the dance floor. 
Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you were hoping for when you and Alastor had come to Mimzy’s club, but you figured that it would at least be a decent substitute for something that you would never be able to have.
You felt your smile slipping as the pair of you began to move to the music. 
You hated moments like these, when you realized that no matter what you did or how you felt, you would never be able to show your feelings for Alastor in public. It wasn’t just the fact that he disliked physical touch, which you had never faulted him for. It was the fact that as one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords, he felt the overwhelming need to keep up an appearance. One that did not, unfortunately, include you.
A gentle touch snapped you back to reality. “You alright?” the imp asked.
No, you weren’t. But you weren’t going to let that stop you from dancing.
You nodded, taking the imp’s hand in yours as you began to move to the music once again. “I’m fine.” You smirked. “Now, show me what you’ve got.”
~~~
If you were to later ask anyone at Mimzy’s speakeasy what had happened that night, you would probably receive a whole mix of stories.
Some would say that the Radio Demon had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, his antlers growing and his bones cracking as he laid waste to the bar, presumably for fun or out of an unjust anger.
Others would say that he had come to seek some sort of revenge on a winged imp that had been spotted dancing before he suddenly disappeared, not to be seen again.
One specific witness, who shall remain nameless, would say that she had been speaking to an old friend about a business opportunity that he had foolishly taken no interest in. As she was speaking, a shadow had entered the room, whispering in its owner's ear. Her old friend had walked away from her, re-entering her bar, where he was met with the view of an imp dancing with the very woman that he had brought here in the first place.
The witness hadn’t even had time to blink before her friend had taken on his true demon form, batting people aside as if they were only flies before promptly picking up the imp dancing with the woman and melting into the shadows with him.
When her friend returned, he refused to say what he had done with the poor imp, though the witness had no trouble making a few assumptions. He had walked over to the women, gently taken her hand, and gave the witness a clipped farewell before vanishing with the women into the shadows.
It was a brutal display, even for the Radio Demon. If the witness had to guess, she would assume that perhaps the woman had something to do with the whole debacle.
Not that she would ever say so to anyone else, of course. She knew better. 
You, however, had no trouble saying straight to Alastor’s face what you believed had happened. 
“We were dancing, Al. It was harmless. If I’d needed your help, you would have known.”
“You would never have summoned me if he was threatening you, my dear.”
You groaned and buried your face in your hands. The two of you had been going back and forth like this ever since he had so graciously brought you back to the hotel from Mimzy’s bar.
You lifted your head and took a breath before continuing. “If he was threatening me, we probably wouldn’t have been just dancing.”
Alastor’s eyes flashed dangerously, his shadow rearing up and scowling in disgust. 
You whirled around and pointed at the shadow. “And you. You went and told him that something bad was happening, didn’t you? You are a liar and a rat, my friend.”
At your words, the shadow suddenly shrank down in size and hid behind its owner, almost as if trying to avoid your accusatory glare.
Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t break eye contact. “He only meant to protect you, my dear, the way he was instructed to.”
“What did you think I would need protecting from, exactly? I can’t exactly die again, can I?”
“There are things far worse than a second death, my dear,” Alastor said with false sweetness.
He was right, you knew. You had almost been subjected to such a thing after your death, when you had sold your soul to the Vees. You still weren’t sure exactly how it had happened, but Alastor himself had found out about you and somehow saved you from a life of imprisonment and torture. 
Not everyone was as lucky as you were.
But that wasn’t why you were upset. 
As soon as Alastor had saved you from the Vees, you had been determined to help him even a fraction of the way that he had helped you. You owed him so much more than that, you knew, but it was the only thing that you could give. And so, from that moment forward, you had tried your very best to become a solid and stable presence for Alastor, unmoving in your trust in him and, hopefully, eventually something like a friend.
But tonight, you had done the exact opposite. To see the Radio Demon defend you was to know that he felt things like affection, or even something more than indifference. That wouldn’t do for his reputation at all, you knew, and you hated yourself for being the cause of it.
You sighed in defeat, crossing your arms over your chest in defense. “I know that,” you said, holding your position and glaring daggers at the Overlord. “But I also know that you risked a lot today by protecting me. I’m not worth losing your power over-”
You gasped as Alastor appeared directly in front of you, glaring intensely. He didn’t lift a finger, but you swore you could feel the heat of his gaze.
“I do hope you haven’t finally started to doubt me, my dear.”
“Never,” you promised, searching his gaze.
The Overlord stepped back, his stretched out smile immediately concealing his true feelings. “Wonderful,” he said. “Then we both understand that my power and status will forever remain.”
You nodded once before finally breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at the floor.
You could feel the anger seeping out of you slowly, replaced by embarrassment. Of course Alastor would never give up his power for you. Even if someone had truly seen the incident, it was unlikely that anyone would ever be able to use it to their advantage. You were talking about the Radio Demon himself, after all.
“You’re right,” you muttered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “I made a foolish assumption.” You smiled to yourself. “I seem to be full of those today. I’m sorry.”
You were met with silence. 
But before you could look up, you suddenly felt the cool touch of a shadow. It rested its hands against your cheeks, tilting your head up to make eye contact. It moved its thumbs in slow circles, leaning down until your foreheads were touching. It didn’t move any closer than that, but you knew that this was more than anyone else had ever received.
It was lovely.
But oh, how you wished it were really him.
The shadow stepped back, returning to its place beside its owner.
Alastor himself acted as though he hadn’t noticed the interaction at all, instead looking around your room as if seeing it for the first time.
“I do plan to maintain my powers, my dear,” Alastor repeated. 
Before you could even open your mouth to reply, he pushed forward. “Although,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t mind losing a few souls to keep what is most certainly mine.” 
He looked towards you then, his gaze hard, as if daring you to argue.
And you should have. You should have told him that you weren’t worth losing souls for. You should have told him that you only wanted to help him, never hinder him. 
You should have done lots of things.
What you did do, however, was smile and duck your head to hide your rising blush. 
You looked back up and extended your hand wordlessly.
Alastor looked down at it before glancing back up at you, his eyebrow raised in a silent question as his shadow looked on eagerly from behind him.
Your smile only widened. “I believe, good sir, that you owe me a dance.”
The shadow nearly leapt with excitement, rushing forward and taking your hand. 
You laughed at its enthusiasm before Alastor stepped forward and waved his hand, whisking the shadow away and taking its place. 
He placed his hand under yours, bringing your hand up to place a soft kiss on the back of your knuckles before releasing you and straightening. Slowly, he brought his claws to the base of your throat before gently dragging them back up until he reached your chin. He tilted your face up further to meet his gaze before dropping his hand down to yours once more.
With his other hand, he waved his staff, summoning a slow dance tune that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.
You tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks and looked up curiously. “Didn’t you used to dance to songs that were a bit more lively?”
Alastor smiled gently down at you before summoning his shadow and surrendering his staff to it. “I did indeed, mon chere. But we aren’t exactly alive now, are we?”
You smiled back in agreement. “No, I suppose we’re not.”
You placed your hand on his shoulder as he placed his hand on your waist. He lowered his head down until your foreheads were touching and began swaying, taking you with him on his slow trek around your bedroom floor.
You couldn’t have asked for anything more.
~~~
If you asked anyone at the hotel what had happened in your room that night, you would receive a few different stories.
Angel Dust would have told you that the Radio Demon had suckered a poor woman into going out with him that night, and you were most likely getting it on.
Charlie would have told you that she hadn’t seen either Alastor or the hotel’s newest resident all evening, though she doubted that the two of you had gone off somewhere together. Right?
Husk would have told you that he felt sorry for the woman who had gotten caught in the Radio Demon’s line of sight. You were such a sweet thing, and you deserved so much better.
You would have simply smiled and shrugged, giving nothing away.
Nobody would have dared ask the Radio Demon, of course.
But if anyone had bothered to ask the shadows, they would have received a rather lovely story about two sinners who had found their peace, only for a moment, dancing in each other’s arms that night. 
An Overlord and a sinner. 
A woman and a man. 
Two damned souls, finding home at last.
A/N 2: I didn’t get to proofread, but I hope you guys still enjoyed it! If you read the first fic (or even if you haven’t), I’m thinking of making another part where it’s platonic Angel Dust x reader and he finally gets to give her a makeover. Let me know if you want to be tagged!
Also, I want to write more Alastor x reader (maybe a continuation of sorts, maybe not) so let me know if you guys want to be tagged in those!
Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx-blog @maybememoriesx
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hurthermore · 2 days
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Hey! Just wanna say I ADORE your Bimbo series ❤️
I have an idea for the next one; The reader teases Alastor for being an old, grumpy man. She's spending too much time on social media & video games to pay attention to him. Then, he punishes her for it. Wink wink! ✋️🍑💦
»»------► 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 - 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺 (18+)
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▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 (18+) ▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹 (18+)
Pairing: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Word Count: 𝟸𝚔
Warnings: 𝙽𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚗𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐?
A/N: 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚢 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚋𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝙼𝙾𝙽𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙳
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Alastor deeply regretted buying you that damned piece of technology.
For the past few days, instead of being all over the Radio Demon like you usually were; instead of always being in his presence, talking to him, holding him, kissing him, and fucking yourself into his cock, you had, for some reason, been consistently dwindling the amount of attention you usually gave him to play on that silly little gaming console you had asked him oh so prettily for. 
As he questioned himself on why he had even purchased it for you, he knew it was because he was so easily swayed by you; that he adored you and wanted to see that pretty smile on your face; it was only a very welcomed luxury when you begged with that that pretty little voice of yours, when you placed your even prettier lips around his cock as a way of persuading him to buy things for you.
He’d buy it for you even if you didn’t do those things; but you didn’t need to know that.
Even now, as you sat in his lap, the both of you in his radio station whilst he broadcast his mass of screaming souls to the entirety of hell, you seemed to simply ignore his presence as you fiddled with the buttons of your newest piece of technology. He didn’t like how much your mental absence toward him had his chest hurting ever so slightly; but despite that, he still remained in his smiling neutral facade. 
Looking down at you, he wondered if you were torturing him on purpose by wearing that semi transparent babydoll nightwear he had bought for you recently; the same one that allowed Alastor to admire every erotic detail of your body, to the front of your core squished against your thighs, to your stomach scrunched up due to the bend of your position, and how beautifully erect your nipples were. It was quite the task for him to contain himself when you looked so ethereal; so undeniably erotic.
Alastor craved to ravish you, just as he did quite often.
If only you would cease playing that ridiculous game. 
You were a smart little darling, despite how ditzy you could be, you weren’t so stupid that you were unaware of how much the simple sight of you turned him on. You must’ve known what you were doing to him.
Alastor knew you did.
As he watched you hum away as you swayed your head along with the music from your game that Alastor was positive you could barely hear over the screams of his broadcast, he etched his sharp talons underneath the flimsy piece of clothing you wore, pressing them against the thick of your thighs before he sunk the tips ever so slightly into your squishy femurs. His upper lip snarling ever so slightly as you refused to give him even a drop of attention even as he damaged the perfect skin that encased your innards.
You wouldn’t even flinch.
With a huff, he leaned his chin into your shoulder as uncharacteristically morbid thoughts of your true feelings towards him clouded his mind, he turned off the microphone connected to his broadcast. “Tell me, do you only love me so you can get what you want?” He didn’t mean to ask it with venom drenched into his words, but he couldn’t help the way his chest constricted from the doubt that had funnelled its way into his head.
“Don’t be silly Al. I love you.” You mumbled as you continued to press the buttons on the console; still refusing to even glance at him.
Grabbing the device from your soft hands, he slammed it against the console of his radio station. “Then why do you persist in depriving me from your attention to play with such frivolous technology?”
Rolling your eyes as he snatched your game from you, you turned around in his lap to finally face him. “God, you’re such a needy, grumpy old man aren’t you?” You mocked him before pushing your chest against him; poking your index finger in his face. “You’re so pathetic it's cute.”
Were you trying to test him?
To piss him off? 
You were extremely lucky you had him wrapped around your little finger, else he would’ve shredded your perfect body into little tiny pieces for saying such things to him. Instead, he sunk his claws into your neck with a look that forced your facial structure to express worry. “I’m offended you think such things of me, my beautiful little darling; it looks as though I’ll have to show you how frighteningly vigorous I can be.” He whispered into your pretty face before conjuring a black appendage to tear your overly exposing nightwear in two.
Slamming your back into his broadcasting table, Alastor watched as you moaned out a bundle of screams as he began shoving his cock in between your exposed and glistening folds without warning; you couldn’t believe he had pulled his length out so quickly from his suit pants as you began panting. Your tight cunt struggled to allow him to enter in one push due to the lack of foreplay; but this is what you deserved, being the little mouthy brat you were.
With both of his hands on your delicate throat, Alastor put so much pressure against it that he could hear tiny gasps of moaned plea’s escape your throat that struggled to intake a proper breath as he painfully pulled his cock out of you, only to slam it back in; only this time, its entire length finally sunk into your beautifully pleasurable wettening walls, forcing a scream to rip from your constricted oesophagus. 
Conjuring more black appendages, he commanded the tentacle-like affixes to tightly wrap around your thighs, the fat around them popping out as the slimy protuberances pressurised with a harshness like no other. Drool dripping from his mouth, Alastor began to groan at the sight of you below him; your perfect face almost draining in colour, his sharp hands wrapped around your beautiful throat, your thighs squished into oblivion, and the squelching that filled the room as he fucked his fat cock into your unready cunt. 
He couldn’t handle it, especially after not having you on his red length for the past few days due to your persistent gaming. Gritting his yellowed teeth, he forced the appendages around your thighs to bend your femurs into your chest, putting you in a mating position that allowed him to pulverise his cock against your cervix. Groaning, he smashed his lips against your breathless ones as he craved for passion from you, he could feel you attempt to kiss him back; something that made his heart burst with love, but the dizziness he was inflicting on you due to his brutal pressure on your larynx and savage, deprived pace he was fucking you with had you unable to truly focus on his lips.
Alastor could feel his balls tighten; a sign he was close to spilling his lovely white cum into you, but he needed to stop. You were due for a punishment, and he had barely scratched the surface. Calming down his pace, stilling his ministrations to prevent himself from ejaculating, his grip on your throat loosened, causing you to cough up breaths of air as drops of sweat from Alastors forehead splattered against yours.
For some reason, after your breathing began to calm down, you began to chuckle; causing your boyfriend's ears to twitch with every mocking laugh. “I knew you were an old man, but come on. You can’t even last two minutes without needing to cum? Can’t even make me cum, baby?” You snickered as you gyrated your waist with his cock still inside you, testing his limits as you snaked your tongue against his adorably frustrated expression. Immediately, he slammed your head into the table with an odd amount of care before he bit the tips of his razor sharp teeth into your neck after you spoke those words; his cock began thrusting into you with a pace that he was dead set on breaking your pelvis with. 
Groaning, Alastor was beyond angry as you kept testing him to the point he hadn’t realised his body began to morph; not until you wrapped your hands around his stitched neck and let out a blood curdling scream from those pretty flushed out lips. “Oh god, Al, don’t stop!” You screeched in a pleasured pain as his cock began to grow thicker and longer inside of you. Letting go of your neck, Alastor admired your pained expression before he looked down to your stomach; he couldn’t prevent the low growl that had left his throat as he watched his growing cock force a large bulge to emerge from your lower belly.
It wasn’t until Alastor found himself standing at double your height that his body decided to halt morphing; his cock forcing your stomach to contort around it as it stretched out the gummy walls of your cunt. Panting, tears left your oculi as your boyfriend stilled his massive length inside of you. “You change your tune so quickly, my love.” His voice came out so much more distorted than usual; as if it was glitching along with every word on his tongue. 
Crying out, you let out a sharp gasp as his overly large hands wrapped around the entirety of your waist; his thumbs pressing down on the bulge his cock enforced as he tried to move, to slam his cock back into you, but he couldn’t. 
He had grown so big that your cunt became simply too tight for him to move. 
Tightening his grip around your waist, he picked you up from the table before his heavy breathes consumed your auditory senses as he began moving you along the entirety of his length, forcing a mixture of pain and pleasure to mumble and curse out from your lips; crying as Alastor used your body as a damned fleshlight. His ridiculously large cock made your stomach bloat to the point you thought he was going to tear through you every time your thighs met his pelvis bone. “That’s it: cry for the ‘needy, grumpy old man’, my lovely, desperate, little whore.” And you did; ever so prettily. Gripping onto his prolonged neck that was covered in stitches, you begged for him to kiss you; begged for him, only him.
Complying to your demands enthusiastically, Alastors back began to bend, his fucked up form covered the entirety of your sight before his drool soaked lips connected with yours rather softly; his head moving up and down every time he moved your body along his length.
Surprisingly, as Alastor retracted one of his hands from your waist, you still felt secure; not a moment did you believe you would fall. His clawed finger tips only slightly brushed against your clit before you could feel your thighs shake; primarily from the sheer atrocity that Alastor was fucking into your cunt. 
Feeling your bud throb as his monster cock invaded far more than whatever should be invaded; along with his sharp claw teasing your clit ever so slightly, your cunt began to spasm in pleasure, ripping a loud, debauched moan from your larynx. Your wet, expanded, pretty little sex began to grip onto Alastors cock tighter as you began to squirt splashes of lust induced liquid onto your lover's body; and from how harshly your core tensed around him, a sensation deep in his own nether regions snapped, filling your womb up with a stupid amount of sperm as he splattered his cum deep inside of you.
Slowly pulling you off his length, Alastor groaned as he watched the mass amount of his ejaculation cascade from your puffy and widening cunt, only to shove his fingers inside you, forcing you to cry out as he made sure the rest of his cum stayed deep inside your womb. “Don’t worry love, I believe this wraps up my example,” Alastor’s voice echoed, still slightly distorted as his body began to slowly morph back to his normal size; forcing you to become limply dumb. “I’ll clean you up now; so relax for your needy old man.”
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»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
@saccharine-nectarine @daintydreams-blog @lunaramune
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hazelfoureyes · 9 hours
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦
Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.
「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」
🎶 minors DNI 🎵
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Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.
“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”
“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.
Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you. 
By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task. 
Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.
Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of  true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love. 
An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.
Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you. 
Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.
You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.
Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…
Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh,  and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”
He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you. 
You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you. 
His room, fucking hell. 
“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-“
You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.
“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”
“No things you enjoy?”
“No romantic interests.”
His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”
You did.
“I do.”
You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.
He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.
“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.
“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”
As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.
He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”
Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.
On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.
His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds. 
The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.
A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”
He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?
“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened. 
Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library. 
He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.
With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.
“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”
It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied. 
Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.
His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.
Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button. 
Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”
Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.
No, obviously not!
Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”
“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat. 
Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”
“Never read it.”
You had read it.
Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”
“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.
When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?
“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”
You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.” 
“You will.” 
The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.
“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”
He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.
No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.
You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.
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Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.
Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.
The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.
Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping. 
Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.
“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’
“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.
He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”
Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!” 
He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”
What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”
Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.
Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created. 
“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”
“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love. 
“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.
“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?
It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.
You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.
While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.” 
You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.
When the song ended, you offered one of your own. 
Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.
Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.
Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”
Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”
Lonely. Pathetic.
“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?” 
“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.
“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.
He nodded, suppressing another laugh.  “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”
Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”
Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.
“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.
You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.
This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.
His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach. 
You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”
He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.
“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.
“Nngh no.”
“Theeen, no.”
Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been,  you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.” 
The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”
When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed. 
You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still. 
A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.
The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.
You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen. 
“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort. 
You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did. 
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”
Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you. 
“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”
You nodded quickly.
“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”
It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy.  It existed purely to please. 
The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?
Wasn’t that the point?
What was the point?
 A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.
Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.
You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming. 
Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.
What were you thinking about this for again?
You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”
“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”
If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.” 
His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”
If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.
“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.
His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”
A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.
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You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other. 
The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat. 
He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.
You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?
You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.
A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride. 
Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?
No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.
But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.
Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.
When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in. 
“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.
He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.
“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in  holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”
Stop crying.
An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed. 
One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.
You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”
What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.
You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”
There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.
 “Good girl.”
No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion. 
Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans. 
With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased. 
He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.
After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.
“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.
Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.
Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.
You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.
The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.
After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”
You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.
Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”
He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”
“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.
“Home?”
“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.
“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”
“I’m not supposed to be here!”
A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”
Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”
He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”
“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.
“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”
Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”
You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”
Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”
You thought for a beat, “It can be.”
He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.
You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.
Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.
You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.
Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”
“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.
His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.
“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket,  “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”
You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”
“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”
All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.” 
“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”
A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.
He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”
A warning.
A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”
You heard the door lock from across the room. 
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You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.
It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.
“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”
From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”
He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”
Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re
@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp
@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic
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The Lookalike (Part 3)
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☒ Summary: “Surely you’re not embarrassed,” he said, running his tongue thoughtfully over his teeth. You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you have fallen into his clutches. 
☒ Warnings: Alastor X Reader, implied Vox X reader, hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, they/them pronouns used, explicit sexual content, injury and treatment, reader is in Hell for a reason, canon typical scenarios.
☒ Parts: Part 1! Part 2!
Through half-lidded eyes, you helped Alastor undress you; peeling away your bloodied tailcoat and unbuttoning your shirt, slow and unhurried. You winced as he pulled your shirt off over your injured arm, and he paused, letting you shear the fabric with your talons to leave the section that was stuck to your injury in place.
When he came to your trousers he eyed the mess you had made with interest, one curious finger scooping up some of the cum that pooled at your adonis belt. Alastor held the sample to the light, sniffed it, and with a brief glance down at you, sucked it from his fingertip. The sight sent heat to your face, a twinge in your spent cock, and it must have showed in your expression because Alastor’s grin widened.
“Surely you’re not embarrassed,” he said, running his tongue thoughtfully over his teeth.
“A little.” You returned his gaze, the post-orgasmic peace you felt leaving you a little bolder than you might have otherwise been. It would be quite the sight, you thought, to see him lick your mons clean with his long red tongue. “Am I to your tastes?”
Alastor balled your ruined shirt in his hand and used it to wipe the remnants of your cum from your skin, the motion considered and almost tender. “The wrong question, little pretender. I think you are already well aware of where my predilections lie.” His gaze ran the path from your navel to your face, and his eyes locked with yours once more. “In this delectable little world of ours, you see, our forms are determined by our natures.” Lifting the balled up shirt from your skin, he gripped it tight in his fist, and green flame sprung from it, consuming the fabric. In the green light, his face was cast in eerie shadow, his eyes glowing red. “You would not resemble me like this if we were not very much alike.”
Naked, you sat cross-legged on the bed as Alastor fetched a polished wooden case full of surgeon’s tools. His gaze had none of the unconstrained lust for you that Vox’s had, which was hardly surprising since the forms you held were so similar, though the way Alastor had paused when stripping your underwear from you told you that you probably weren’t identical in all regards.
Alastor sat before you, picking scissors, needle and thread and disinfectant from his kit before he gestured for you to give him your arm. Your first instinct was to refuse, but you knew from experience that stitching up an injury one-handed was fiddly, so you held out your hand for him, palm down, and let him move you by the wrist.
The cuts from his talons were deep, and dried blood stuck the remaining piece of shirt fabric to the injury. Taking one end of the fabric between his fingers, Alastor began to tug it from the injury, and a hiss of pain escaped your lips as it welled fresh blood.
“Did you make a deal with the television demon?” he asked, casually, as if he weren’t in the middle of re-opening the gashes he had made on your forearm.
You controlled your voice, wincing as he tugged a little more of the strip away. “No, not with anyone.”
Alastor’s grin betrayed no surprise. “And he has no other leverage on you? No family, friends?”
“He doesn’t,” you said. “But how do you know I’m not lying about that?”
“Lying to me? With my own face? Now, that I’d like to see!” Alastor laughed to himself. “I believe we each have something the other wants, little pretender. If you’d hear me out.”
You swiveled your ears towards him for effect. “I’m listening.”
Alastor’s own ears gave a twitch of amusement as he soaked a wad of cotton in disinfectant. “First, I want a promise of silence from you. You speak of nothing that I offer you next, and nothing that I ask of you next, regardless of the terms we settle on.”
A Hellish nondisclosure agreement? Interesting. You held still, a small squeak escaping your lips as Alastor applied the antiseptic. It stung, worse than the original wound had. Swallowing your pain, you tried not to sound like you had felt it. “Sure, I'll shake on that.”
Alastor took your hand in his, his palm pressed to your fingers as he looked you in the eye. “A deal,” he said, quietly, and there was green light around you, the smell of brimstone. The sensation of the deal itself was a strange one, almost like vertigo, and you noted it for later.
“So, what is it that you want from me?” You held your arm steady as Alastor pushed the needle through your skin for the first of the stitches your injuries needed. It hurt, but not as badly as the disinfectant from a moment ago, the thread that followed a queasy pull on your skin through the hole, and you pulled a face. “I hope you're not wanting to lock me in your bedroom too.”
Alastor laughed. “And let your talents go to waste? I think not.” He finished another stitch, pulling it closed without making your skin buckle where the sides of the wound met, so that the injury would heal with minimal scarring. A surge of appreciation for the care welled in your chest as he continued. “It just so happens that I can think of a great many things that I could do with a body double.”
You gave him a frown. “I'm not going to agree to a great many things.”
“I think you'll be favorably disposed.” Alastor pushed the needle in once more, a sting with the puncture and a pull with the thread. “Let me spell out my conditions.”
“I'm a captive audience.”
“Hm. Quite.” Alastor paused his stitching, holding up the needle between thumb and forefinger. “The first condition, you will harm no-one within this hotel.”
“Physical harm?” you asked, watching Alastor’s face. It was hard to read him behind the smile, but your gut told you that he was amused rather than irritated by the challenge.
“No physical or metaphysical harm,” he clarified brightly. “Emotional harm is fine.”
“If I'm being attacked?”
“Then you'll call me for help.”
“And if you don't come to save me?”
Alastor sighed, threading the needle through the skin on your forearm once more as he resumed the stitches. “Then you have yourself a loophole.” He tied off the stitch, cutting the ends of the knot close to the skin, the whisper of cold metal from the scissor blades making you shiver. “The second condition- you bring no trouble to the hotel.”
“Trouble? Is Vox trouble?” The television demon was likely to come after you, and you couldn’t agree to a deal you had no hope of fulfilling.
Alastor gave you a laconic look. “Vox was coming for me long before you arrived, my dear.”
“Done, then. I like a quiet life.”
Alastor looked at you with something close to approval before moving to the second parallel gash on your arm, pulling the injury together with his talons as he lined up the needle for the first stitch. “The third condition-” He began, hesitating. “The Radio Demon must be feared. My reputation must be maintained. My detractors must be dealt with.”
“You seem capable of that yourself.”
“I have certain obligations.” Alastor’s smile did not falter, but it was easy to see that this was why he had asked for your consent to nondisclosure. “I am limited. You, however…” He paused to make a stitch, the drag of the thread through your skin almost familiar by now.
“You want me to hunt for you,” you finished for him.
“If that's what you want to call it.”
You frowned, lowering your ears. “I don't like the idea of someone else picking quarry for me.”
“Would you rather not hunt at all?” asked Alastor, tying the knot on another stitch.
You thought about it. You remembered the times when you had stopped. When you had been forced to stop. It had been an itch. You breathed out through your nose. “Give me veto rights. I don’t have to kill anyone I don’t want to.”
Alastor’s smile was tight. “That's hardly a fair deal. You're practically doing what you want, at that point.”
“Isn't that true of your end of the bargain too? I get the feeling that you don't want the television demon fucking someone with your face.”
Alastor’s lips pulled back from his teeth. “Are you sure you want to provoke someone who is currently stitching your arm closed?”
“I'm negotiating.” You watched Alastor carefully. Naked and injured, in his territory, you ought to have been the one at a disadvantage, but your mention of Vox had set him practically snarling. Part of you wanted to poke him more, just to see how he reacted, but the pragmatic part of you told you to play it gently. “And I'm not opposed to the deal. I just need a little free rein, that's all.”
“I could use an extra pair of hands around the hotel,” conceded Alastor, after a pause. “Janitorial work, front desk. Agree to that, and you can have your veto.”
“Regular hours?”
Alastor’s ear twitched, and he looked up from the stitching, the work nearly complete. “I’m not a slavedriver, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. You can have your nine to five, little pretender, two days off a week.”
You smiled at him, your expression matching his. “I think I can live with that.”
“We have a deal, then,” said Alastor, his eyes creasing at the corners as he tied the final knot.
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Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
Alastor x GN!Reader
TW: Talks of murder, Alastor being Alastor. Alastor realized a lot of things.
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A/N: I want to be buddies with this man. Was I listening to AC/DC….maybe, This started as a headcanon thing but it turned into something else. Enjoy!
Your friendship with Alastor. 
You met Alastor when you both were alive! You somehow got his attention and then a year or two of you both annoying one another you’re good friends! Best friends even! He wouldn’t say that but you know it. 
Both of you are such  fucking menaces, while he is much more of a gentleman and very put together. You are somewhat the opposite. You are put together but it’s like you hate fancy dress clothes and you’d rather be running around with a gun in hand stealing from poor fools who didn’t look twice at you. He will forever chew you out for your thieving and how underdressed you are! Where are your manners and why are you laughing at him? He didn’t say anything funny! But he can’t help to think how your smile and laugh suits you.
You walked in on him while he was killing a poor fool one night and instead of running away and freaking out, you looked around and smirked “Can I steal his shit?” He rolled his eyes and waved his bloody hand towards you, “You can’t find anything else to do?” He snarled out easily killing the man below him, he could easily kill you but why would he need to now? You obviously didn’t care, “You know the saying, old friend. Another man’s trash is another man’s treasure~” You cooed out looking through the stuff on the fireplace mantle.
“Don’t make it so obvious.” He hissed out, looking around. “Were you followed?” He asked, making you stop and turn to him, hand on your chest. “Alastor! Are you doubting me? Here I thought you loved me.” You teased making him send you a half hearted glare, “Love is a strong word.” You rolled your eyes, “Right… No one dared to follow me.”
Another thing is when he had to hide bodies, you happily helped him and stood guard to make sure no one followed. He was grateful but he’d be caught redhanded before he said that to your face.
Once he died, you were inconsolable for weeks on end until you crossed paths with some unfortunate souls who sadly got you good before their death. You bled out in some alley way near his favorite speakeasy, you wouldn’t be found until the morning.
BUT IN HELL-
You were an uncontrollable force to be reckoned with, you still kept your spirits high especially when you got a little tipsy or the money was good enough. It took decades for your ass to find Alastor, you were so caught up in your own adventures you just forgot about finding your best friend. Until it got boring and you saw a flier for the ‘Hazbin Hotel’...it couldn’t hurt to look for him there, besides he was fucked up and he could be there to see everything fall to pieces.
So when you arrived and you saw the tall deer man, his smile stretching wider into the grin you could tell from a mile away. “Oh it’s you,” He hummed, making you roll your eyes. “Oh please, Alastor. Don’t act like you weren’t excited to see me. Who else would be able to deal with your insane ass,” You replied looking around, “You missed me, don’t you dare deny that fact.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not denying anything, Old friend. I just simply thought you wouldn’t look for me.” He walked over, circling you to see if anything changed or was he trying to find a weak point? “See you keep thinking that and I keep reminding you that you are stuck with me forever, there is no escaping that.” 
He’s happy you found him but he’s got to keep up appearances, later that night you're sitting with him in the parlor sipping on some whiskey he grabbed from the bar as you tell him all of your stories. It goes silent for a while and it’s comfortable for some part. “How did you die?” He asked one moment and it truthfully caught you off guard. “...Like you said, I’ll get too confident and end up dying on the streets.” You whispered the alcohol on your tongue tastes gross now. He didn’t gloat, or if he was he was doing it silently, “Tried to go after a rich fella. He had a gun and got me good in the stomach that was before I killed him, ran off before I could take anything. Died in an alley near your favorite speakeasy. Guess I was looking for you even after all this time.” You looked down at the glass and sighed, he was too silent for your liking but he was always like that. Why did it affect you now?
He didn’t say much the rest of the night or the next morning. Only gave you a nod when you’d left.
Alastor couldn’t control you much like he could with Husk and Nifty, he couldn’t drag you along with his shenanigans. He could try but it would fail. You were a creature of habit and a stubborn one at that. You left by a certain time to get your fill of thieving, killing and messing with people before coming back to him. 
Yet, you still wore that smile on your face and laughed as loudly as you could when something was funny enough for you. He wasn’t used to that, people should be miserable down in this cesspool. But you weren’t why weren’t you miserable? It was something that plagued him all night long.
He adored your smile and laughter.
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Hello! Well, I just thought up part 2 of Alastor X Stag/Buck Deer!Y/N sooo~
Charlie *nervous*: Alastor, I-I think it would be a good idea for you to join in with our trust exercises. It's been a week since our new guest had gotten here and you have stopped fighting them since. Maybe if you participated, you'd come away the bestest of friends!
Alastor *looking over to Charlie, currently with his antlers tangled with Y/Ns*: No need to worry, my dear. We're just participating in some friendly rough-housing! It's something all young deers instinctualy enjoy! And wasn't it your suggestion to 'bond over instincts', hmm?
Alastor: *looks back to Y/N, pushing his antlers more into theirs* However, if our new friend doesn't like it, I'm sure I can find something more complimentary to their *smiles wider* taste.
Y/N *clearly annoyed*: *Roughly pushes their antlers forward, pushing Alastor back slightly and untangling their antlers*
Alastor: *Looks confused and shocked before eyes dilate with ears and tail start wagging*
Y/N: *Yelps as Alastor nearly tackles them to the floor, shoving his now larger antlers back into theirs at full force*
Charlie: AL! NO!
Husk: *Looking over at Alastor repeatedly trying to get their antlers to lock* Now they've done it.
Angel: *Sipping his drink* What? They pushed him back, clearest 'fuck off' if ever I've seen one.
Husk: *Looking over to see Charlie trying to drag Y/N away from Alastor and failing* Yeah but they're both deers. As far as Al's concerned, they just flirted back.
Angel: So Al just thinks they're playing hard to get? *Putting his drink down with a sigh* Nature's fucking weird.
Lucifer: *Sitting crossed legged at the end of the bar* You can thank Gabriel for that. *mumbles* I always knew he was fucking weird. *Take loud sip of drink*
(And now that you confirmed that you take request for other characters, I got a funny Lucifer request lined up)
Bonus:
Lucifer: *Placing drink down and taking his hat off* Welp, okay. *Snaps fingers and deer ears and antlers appear on his head* I'm going to mess with them.
Charlie: DAD! NO!
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Sorry abt how long this has taken me! Drawing hard 😔
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iiotic · 1 day
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The Burned Memories | Human! Alastor x Reader
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summary ->
You, a homeschooled kid, met a little boy named Alastor. The two of you quickly bonded, being interested in similliar things. Everything was going great for years, until your parents decided to move out. You and Alastor made a promise to write to eachother, making fun of the memories that you made. However you were confused when you didn't get any letters from him..
chapters ->
prologue (coming soon..)
chapter 1..
chapter 2..
tw ->
This story contains dark themes; things like
❥︎ Murder, kidnapping & stalking
❥ use of alcohol
❥︎ Period-Typical sexism
❥︎ Period-Typical racism
❥︎ graphic description of corpses
ᵃˡᵃˢᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱᵛᶻⁱᵉᵖᵒᵖ
'ʸ/ⁿ' ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ
I'd like to thank @deadgirldreaming for giving me the idea for this fanfiction. I really love it.
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