The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)
âą part1âĄÌ¶sidestoryâĄÌ¶part2âĄÌ¶part3âĄÌ¶part4 âŁ
7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners âšđŠ I really hope you like it đ„șđ
You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.
{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and itâs been stuck in my head for days.}
MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I â stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! đš)
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč
You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.
You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of yourâ- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.
The look he gave you, confusion? You werenât sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.
Alastor laughed, âQuite the welcome, dear.â
You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?
âLong time no see, Alastor.â You didnât mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you werenât really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didnât expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didnât have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger. Â
You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldnât listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.
Alastorâs face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didnât remember the time youâd spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if heâ maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps youâd stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.
You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadnât hurt you, but you couldnât be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a personâs real self. Your dream romps were just thatâ dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldnât stop thinking about.Â
His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, âWell! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.â The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.
Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between âWelcome back!â And âI am so, so sorry you died!â She held your hands in hers, âThe hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room bâŠâ her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.
You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didnât make it out of that forest. But that didnât make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlieâs voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parentâs door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.
âMaybe she needs to take a rest,â his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly.Â
âItâs fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.â You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.
Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. Itâs mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.
The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.
âAlmost done! To the left is Dadâs studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.â
You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.
âAnd to the right is Alastorâs radio station.â
You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. âI didnât know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,â You shrugged, âHe just sounded like that.â
Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasnât there?
He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.
He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?
âWould you like to see it?â He didnât recognize his own voice, because he hadnât realized he was going to say it until it was done.
Yes. âNo thank you.â You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched upâ- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling downâ- fuck him. He owns you, heâs a demon. Stay away from him.
His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts.Â
âWell!â Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, âThat makes sense! Because Alâs station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.â She looked around, âIs the room ready, Al?â
He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down.Â
âThis floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isnât precious! But ya knooow,â she opened your door, âYouâve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!â
Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.
There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.
âSooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?â Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.
You needed to do this and let it be. âActually, may I have a moment, Alastor?â
Always, Yes. âI suppose I have the time, my dear.â He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.
Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?
âI never got to thank you.â
His stomach turned, he couldnât bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, âWhatever for?â
You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? âYou were â true to your word.â You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. âYou were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didnât thank you. I was just so-,â
âFull of misplaced rage?â His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.
âJust rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.â
Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. âWell you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that itâs his to give.â
No one had told you. âOh,â genuine surprise, âThank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. Iâd probably still be in Valentinoâsâ,â the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, âstudio.â
Looking at you, Alastor couldnât decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didnât retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.
âIâm going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.â Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. âI would like to see your radio station, sometime. If youâd want to show me.â He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.
Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if youâd see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there.Â
Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought youâd come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest. As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think youâd died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldnât put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldnât be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didnât want it at all.
If youâd forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die.Â
He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was â far worse. You were his, yet he couldnât have you. Couldnât possess you in the ways heâd grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasnât a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger.Â
He didnât rest that night, and neither did you.
Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.
When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby.Â
âAlastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.â You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.
âDonât mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldnât have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. Iâm a freak but I ainât sick in the head like Val.â He locked his phone, turning to you, âSo do you always start passinâ out mid-convo or does Charlieâs voice just do something to ya?âÂ
You groaned, âDid she tell you that?â
âWell she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?â
âI didnât sleep, now that you mention it.â Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, âWhat?â
âOh Iâm sure you didnât. Not with your co-star next door.â He winked, âIâm sure youâre happy to be here in the flesh.â
âUgh I forgot about that. Did -,â
âEveryone see it? Yeah youâre a minor celebrity.â You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, âBut hey! At least you donât gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep âem at bay.â
âWhy would he do anything for me?â Pillow still over your face, you groaned, âIâm just a soul on his roster.â
âHa I donât think he treats just any soul the way heâs been treatinâ you. I think Husk would tell me.â Angel kicked his feet, âWhat a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but theyâre like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?â
Pillow down, âEw, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?â
Angel stopped, wide eyed, âOh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?â A sinister giggle, âYou can tell oleâ Angel Dust. Weâre pals, remember? You technically owe me.â His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.
You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, âAngel, what are you talking about?â
His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastorâs room when Charlie burst into the lobby.Â
âI am so sorry! I didnât tell you about the redemption activities!â She tossed papers onto the coffee table, âAlright, plan Stairway to Heaven!â
Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlieâs sketches.
Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, youâd make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you
Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then.Â
You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, youâd manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful.Â
That fourth night when you again couldnât sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? Youâd been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.
The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didnât have a bathing suit. You didnât have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.
What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the waterâs ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentinoâs studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightlessâ ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?
The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastorâs radio studio.Â
He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. âYou look like a drowned rat, my doe.â
âDonât call me that,â you wiped your hair from your face, âI canât sleep.â
You never struggled to sleep in his bed. âWhat did you do when you couldnât sleep on earth?â
Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, âI slept⊠really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.â
Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him.Â
âWhy are you working?â
âWhy are you swimming?â
âI just told you.â Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.
Ever present smile beamed back at you, âWell then take a guess!â
You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. âCool, thanks for the waste of time.â You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.
âWhy do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?â He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, âWhat have I done to you to deserve your disgust?â
âNothing! Thatâs-,â the problem, âIâm just tired. I donât feel right, like I misplaced something. Thereâs a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.â
Alastor closed the gap between you two, âI can assure you everything you need is here.â
You rolled your eyes, âYeah. Of course.â Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.
His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastorâs red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. âLook at me.â His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. âDonât you dare look away.â He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.
When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.
You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor.Â
Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy?Â
Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignoredâŠ
You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you werenât a possession. You werenât an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldnât lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.
âYou look like shit.â Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldnât be empty, you didnât want to run into him alone.Â
âHow do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.â You rested your cheek on the bar, âHusk, something with orange juice thatâll make me forget where I am, please.â
âThe moans are my favorite. Speaking of moaninâ in the night-,â Angel was cut off.
âGet used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,â Huskâs tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.
With a huff, you sat up, âDonât compare us. You sold your soul. Iâ,â you searched with your hands for the word, âwas guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.â A deep sip of your drink, âFuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. Iâm the Kia Sorento of hell.â
Husk grumbled, âYeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. Weâre here for the long haul.â
Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, âSo likeâ did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?â His eyes went to your ears and back, âIs that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?â
You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, âWhy would he do that?
He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, âWell, ya knowâŠâ his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, âbecause ya-,â
âMy little doe, just who I was looking for.â His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?
âWhy does everyone keep interruptinâ me?!â Angel slammed his hand on the bar.
On impulse, your own hand formed a first, âStop calling me that!â
Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, âOh? Why should I? You are a doe,â his microphone gestured to your head, âAnd your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.â His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, âBut I always have video evidence if youâre unsure of the details.âÂ
You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.
Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, âLucky for you, radio demon. Itâs all you have anymore.â You had decided you wouldnât give him the satisfaction of saying his name.
Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastorâs antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, âWhat did you say?â The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.
Your finger was shaking as you pressed the âclose doorâ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, âFuck you.â
You didnât recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound youâd heard any deer make before.
Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.
A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.
âItâs me!â You recognized Angelâs voice, âLet me in.â
He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, âI donât know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.â He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, âOr are a total idiot.â He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, âOh shit, sorry. You okay?â
You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, âI havenât fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. Iâm going crazy.â
âI donât know why yaâll are fightinâ but canât Alastor help you out? Yaâll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.â
Your tears streamed down your face, âAngel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like weâre friends. The closest Iâve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!â You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. Youâd never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.
Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, âWhat exactly happened after you went home?âÂ
You sniffled, âI couldnât get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.âÂ
He laughed, âI wondered where that thing went.â
âI started having these dreams, justâ- really fucked dreams of him.â
Angelâs eyes narrowed, âfucked how?â
Your wanted to hide your face but didnât have the energy to move your arms, âHe fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.â
Angel sat up, he didnât know what to ask first, âbest sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never⊠met up?â
You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, âIf he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.â
âUh huuuuh.â Angel nodded, âWell. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. Heâs been super creepy, always just poppingâ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.â
Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadnât he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.
âHave ya considered actually fucking him?â Angel couldnât believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe itâd actually do you good.
âWhy would I do that?â
Angel looked annoyed, âBecause you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?â
âYes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. Heâ,â you thought about the kiss, âI feel like itâd just make it worse. Iâd want more.â
Angel showed you his phone, âHeâs apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, itâs your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.â He scrolled, âFucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?â
You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, âAngel.â
âDo you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?â
âAngel!â
âDoes he go full demon and his peni-,â
âANGEL.â
He spun his head around to look at you, âI wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you donât explain this shit to me.â
Settling back, you groaned, âIâve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldnât breath unless I was under him. But you see him, youâve been here. Does that sound like him?â
Angel sat beside you, âHonestly didnât know he knew what sex was until you came here soâ he leaned back, two arms holding him up, âYou guys are pretty fucked up.â You nodded. âWhat did he say, when you told him about the dreams?â
âDidnât really come up.â You rolled your eyes.
He patted your thigh, âGot it. Youâre gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.â Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, âIâll see ya tomorrow!âÂ
You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am
.
Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, âHey uh, I know you know I think youâre a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and Iâm sorry.â Alastor didnât reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.
âI mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpinâ uglies was all just dreams Iâd be super fuckinâ bummed too.â Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastorâs face to make sure he was still conscious, âuhh anyone home in there?â
Alastorâs eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, âExplain, quickly.â
âShe told me this morninâ! She thinks all those nights you were banginâ her brains out â which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room â weâre just horny dreams. Sheâs all fucked in the head about it.â
Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, âYou all owe me!â
You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastorâs face already down to your level.
He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, âI need to speak to you in my room, dear.â His voice was clearly not asking you.Â
Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. âWhy would-,â
âNow.â His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You werenât in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.
 As if expecting it, he cut you off, âThey werenât dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.â He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldnât remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.
You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.
You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.
âWhy-,â your hands balled into fists, âdidnât you tell me?!â You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.
Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, âI thought you had no memory of our-,â
You cut off him off at the head, âvisits.â
He laughed, âspirited visits.â Was that a pun? You groaned.
âI, I thought it was just make believe.â The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.
Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt youâd actually answer him, âHow did you die?âÂ
The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, âI tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.â
A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, âYou killed a man?!â You shouldnât have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, âTell me every detail. Who was he to you?â Alastorâs hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric.Â
âMy employeeâs father.â The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.
Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, âOh? And why him?â
A hum, âHe was a bad man.â
His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. âWho says?â His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?
You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, âWhat?â
âWho says he was bad?â
Your eyes searched the room for an answer, âI think anyone would agree with me.â
His smile reached his eyes, âSo you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.â He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. âDid you plan it?â Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death.Â
A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. âYeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.â
âA knife,â he practically purred, âA favorite. No gun?â He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.
âI wanted something more⊠personal.â
Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. âYou were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.â His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.
âThis is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.â Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.
âFor a âfuckedâ situation, my dear.â His nose traced along your jaw. âBut one youâll find I quite enjoy.â He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. âBear with me, just a little more. Youâll find my ⊠proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.â
âYouâre sick.â You turned, nose to nose smiling still.
He hummed, his own smile spreading, âdesperately so.â Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, âWhy did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?â
A question you didnât feel you could answer, âThis topic is having the opposite effect on meâŠâ you squeezed him again.
âFair enough,â he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, âThen tell me how you felt? A compromise.â
How did you feel? When you killed him? âI felt strong.â He repositioned himself between your legs, âI wasnât scared. I knew Iâd succeed or-,â
âOr?â His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and heâll let himself go completely.
You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. âOr Iâd end up here, with you.â His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. âAlastor?â
He wasnât an idiot.Â
Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him.Â
Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms.Â
You chose to come back.Â
Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldnât manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. âAlastorâ, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you.Â
âMy little doe.â
You came home.
His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.
Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldnât ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest.Â
And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Marianaâs trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasnât clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didnât say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You werenât just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.
He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.
Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasnât just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didnât stop for you to recover.
With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didnât even consider unsheathing himself from you.
You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.
With regained red eyes, he looked at your face.Â
âAre you-,â he sighed, âAsleep.â Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep.Â
He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place.Â
One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, âSleep well, darling doe. Iâll be here when you wake.âÂ
àŒ»MasterlistàŒș
â° Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1
đïž TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,
@luna-usagi-chan
đčAlastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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A Fate Inked In Starlight
Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel
Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.
Warnings - mentions of blood, Eris being gentle đ„ș, memory loss, kinda arsehole Rhys?x
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five
Leaves of red and orange peered down at you inquisitively, and the earth was hard and slightly damp beneath you.
You hissed as you moved, a metallic sting coating the inside of your mouth. The world tilted, a dull thumping in your mind swelled behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose in attempt to centre yourself.
It hadnât worked.
Looking about, you drank in where you had awoken, soil and an array of foliage welcomed your sight, dark bark held onto browning leaves, some of which floated around where you sat. Light birdsong and the faint chirp of crickets flittered around you with the occasional crunch of dry twigs that snapped under the weight of the mammals that trotted by, not heading much mind to you.
You were clad in some kind of black armour, a second skin that fit you perfectly as it curved around your breasts and hips, the material splitting open in the shape of lightening across your chest where yellow gems and light hummed. Jewelled metal talons were fitted to your fingertips, coated with dry blood that had worked itself into each crevasse it could. You were sure that whatever you looked like was not a pretty sight.
Something had kept you glued to your spot, swaying slightly from the brute force that had clearly been wrecked upon you. From what you had no idea.
From the distance, you heard the beating of hooves against the hard ground, growing louder with each passing moment before a brilliant white stag exploded into the clearing where you were. It was beautiful, those pools of emerald bore into you, there was terror laced behind them, and the stag readied his attack as he lowered his antlers toward you.
âIâm not going to harm you,â you told the creature with an extended hand, an extension of your surrender, âI promise.â
The stag surveyed you, noting the wild hair that had fallen from a once tightly strung braid, the blood that coated your neck and fingers, the bewilderment in your eyes. No, you certainly werenât a threat.
âIâm not sure how I came to be here. I donât know where I am,â you continued, as if the stag would be able to answer any of your questions.
The creature relaxed, taking a tentative step forward to sniff the outstretched talons fixed to your fingertips. He huffed and shook his head, one of his hooves tapping against the ground as another sound entered your earshot.
âDogs,â you said softly, sadness laced in your rough voice that scratched at your throat. âGo. Iâll distract them,â you turned your hand, exposing your palm to him, he rested his snout in it gently, and only for a moment before he bounded away. Leaping over molehills whilst leaving you alone once more.
The barking drew closer and your breath caught in your throat at the obvious number of hounds that approached your position, perhaps mistaking your blood for that of the stags.
They hurtled into the clearing, the hedges and flowers parting for them as they surged through the air and landed in front of you, mouths pulled back and snarling teeth ready to tear you apart. You shuffled back as they circled you, snapping, slobber dripping from their canines causing your heart rate to beat in your ears. Hitting the trunk of a tree, you sighed, realising there were no weapons attached to the leather holsters at your thighs made your current predicament a lot more complicated.
You wouldnât dream of harming an animal, at least, you thought so.
A flutter of your heart gave way to gentle excitement when you had seen the stag, and even the dogs despite them wanting to turn you into a meal.
A sharp whistle tore their attention from you, pulling them back to the source as he too entered the clearing. His head was tilted to the side and he examined you with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, assessing if you were a threat or not. Red hair and amber eyes found you, and he approached, splitting his gaze between you and your laboured breathing to the scene around you both.
âWho are you?â His voice was rough but held a stoic calm, the deepness of his words made your hairs stand on edge.
A simple question. Your name. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, you stuttered, eyes wide as nothing came to mind, âI, I donât know.â
You were the most beautiful thing heâd ever seen. Wide doe eyes staring at him in bewilderment, he knew your skin would be soft despite the mud and blood coating your surface. The sharp jaw and hallowed cheeks, full pouted lips and an elegantly pointed nose. Too beautiful for a human or fae.
The confusion etched into every inch of your features made the man relax a little, he knelt before you, his dogs happy with wagging tails brushing against his side, âDo you know where you came from?â By the looks of your armour, the blood coated talons, and the cuts dug into the side of your neck, it was clear to him that you werenât from Prythian. You looked too advanced for his world.
You shook your head, muttering a faint and weak answer to him.
He hummed, reaching to tuck a strand of your dirty matted hair behind your pointed ear. Fae, he noted. Smiling when you didnât flinch under his touch, he offered a hand to you, it was calloused and rough, but his pressure was gentle and guiding as he helped you from the ground.
âIâm Eris Vanserra, and youâre in the Autumn Court,â he looked down at you through thick lashes and offered a warm smile.
âEris,â his name fell from your lips and he nodded in encouragement as you familiarised yourself with the sound of it. Yes, you definitely werenât from his world, if you were, youâd surely cower from his name and the mention of where you were.
A pressure consumed your feet, and you found one of his hounds sat on them, staring up at you with its panting tongue flopping against the side of its jaw, its tail rustling the leaves beneath it as it wagged happily, âThatâs enough, Duke,â Eris scolded the hound, rubbing between his ears in a bid to get him to move, âIâm sorry about him.â
âDonât be. I donât mind,â you smiled, and he noticed the warmth in your eyes, the molten gold and ocean blue that could have him entranced if he wasnât careful. âIâm sorry about this,â you motioned the air, the current situation you found yourselves in, âI wish I knew what to say.â
âItâs fine,â he frowned slightly as he peered at the still open flesh on your neck that leaked with every heartbeat, âLet me help you with that.â
âI couldnât ask you to do that.â
Eris smirked, âYouâre not asking,â he shrugged as he heading back in the direction from whence he came, adjusting his brown jacket which lay over a cream open collared shirt. You werenât sure how you didnât notice it before, the well fit pants and shirt, the adornment of fine rings across his digits. Eris Vanserra was clearly someone of high standing, and you felt stupid for not knowing. The disappointment felt foreign to you.
The male looked back at you expectantly, his well kept fiery red hair tousling over his forehead, freckles visible as the sunlight hit his face. âThank you,â you followed his steps, Duke trotting alongside you like a personal guard.
Once you had made it back to Fir Manor, Erisâ private residence that was home to him and his hounds alone, he insisted that you bathe, that it would be easier for the healer to assess the damage if she could tell what was or wasnât your own blood.
You didnât need telling twice, you thanked Eris for the spare clothes, a sheer deep red dress, before you slipped into the bathroom and peeled off your second skin, paying no mind to the marks that littered your forearms and torso, the marks that covered every inch of your body.
It seemed silly. To be so trusting of someone youâd just met. But something told you that Eris wasnât a threat to you. Something had allowed you to feel safe with him.
You sighed as the hot water worked to relax your muscles, the rest of the world fading away into blissful nothingness.
Rhys was happy.
Finally happy.
A mate and a babe. A family. No danger for the first time in what felt like a millennia.
Rhys watched them, watched his Nyx swaddled into Feyreâs chest as she painted, humming some lullaby to the dozing babe. Light poured into the room from the domed glass and he let a content sigh pass through his lips from where he leaned against the doorframe. Relishing in the sight for a moment longer before retreating back to his office and closing the door with a soft click.
He wasnât sure where the rest of them were, Mor would be returning from the human lands soon, Cassian and Azriel were surely training, Nesta was probably nose deep in another book in the library with Amren at her side, and Elain was tucked away with Lucien somewhere revelling in their newly accepted mating bond.
Everything was as it should be.
The papers on his desk were too chaotic for anyone else to understand but him, he knew where each treaty lay in the stack, where each letter from a concerned citizen sat, when Azâs countless reports waited for his eye.
Though, one thing caught his eye that definitely hadnât been there before heâd gone to check on his mate and child. A folded up rip of parchment, singed at the edges with an aroma of wet grass gripping to it.
It reeked of Autumn, of Eris.
Rhys wasnât worried that the heir had contacted him. They were planning for a better Autumn once Beron handed over his title, it wasnât out of the ordinary to hear from the eldest Vanserra at all. Scanning the parchment, Rhys felt his interest grow in the words, the vague message that beckoned him to Fir Manor, telling him that someone had dropped into the forest who Rhys may be interested in meeting.
So, the High Lord of the Night Court stalked through the halls, parchment in hand as the clash of swords and jostling laughter flooded his senses. Then he saw them, his two brothers in their training leathers, wide smiles and bruises that would fade within the hour as they jabbed another with playful words.
âAh, did you call on Rhys to come and save you, Az? How desperate,â Cassian glimmered, his wings rustling and body keeping guard against Azrielâs oncoming attack.
Rhys stepped between them, holding the parchment in the air between his fingers with a smirk on his lips as Azriel to it from him, scanning the words, âWith no memory of where she came from?â Azriel questioned, his shadows curling over his shoulders as though they wished to see what held their masters attention whilst he handed the written words to Cassian who pouted about being left out.
âDo you remember the visitor we had not too long ago?â
Azriel smirked at the memory of the redhead scouring through the caves of Prythian, âBryce?â
âYes, Bryce.â Rhys sent a glare to Cassian, no doubt still unhappy at his mates willingness to aid the girl, âShe too fell into our world out of nowhere, didnât she?â
Cassian stopped the thought before it could be shared, âYes, but Bryce knew who she was and why she came here. It seems this woman doesnât share that similarity,â he turned the paper over in his hand, like some newfound information was going to be inscribed elsewhere.
From the brief information that Eris had sent to Rhys, the woman who had fell into the Autumn had no idea who she was or where she was let alone how she found herself bleeding in a different world from her own.
âRegardless,â Rhysâ eyes glowed at the hidden message Cassian had tried to convey, that maybe this woman had nothing to do with Bryce and whatever war she was fighting on her shores. Though Cassian did have to admit that it was a coincidence that another soul had floated through into their world. âIt needs to be investigated. Azriel, youâll come with me. Cassian, youâll stay here.â
The pair knew better than to convince Rhys otherwise, Azriel especially knew better than to refuse and potentially put his home and people in danger.
Another invader had dove into his world, his home, and heâd be damned by the Mother if he let another one trick him again.
Authors Note
Hi my loves!
Itâs been a while. I know Iâm usually a Bridgerton girly but Iâm kinda obsessed with everything SJM right now.
So, here we are. My first Maasverse fic đ€·ââïž
I am wanting to write a series on this so let me know what you think! Iâve been out of the game for a bit đ€
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