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#human!alastor x reader
cryptidghostgirl · 28 days
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Hello hello!! You're probably swamped with asks, but if you have the time and energy, you should do a slow burn Alastor x reader set in the 1920s where the reader is a performer at mimzys speakeasy and that's where Alastor goes to chose his victims. He sees the reader for the first time and immediately thinks that they are his next victim but he keeps getting thwarted by small incidents, such as the reader leaving early and him barely missing his chance. After a while he notices small things about them and their personality after sort of observing them, and then they meet and he loses his interest in killing them. Of course the slow burn happens, the drama ensues, he's still a killer but keeps it a secret and then after a while the reader finds out. You can choose if you want a happy ending or not, but I had that idea in my mind and your one of the only writers I see that could do it justice. Thanks for sharing your talents!!! Your amazing and gifted in ways that inspire everyone who interacts with your blog🫶🫶🫶
A/N You’re literally so sweet?? Wtf?? I love you?? Thank you??? I hope you like what I did with this fun and fluffy idea!!! ahhhhhh!!!! also, I am running with the ambiguity of the ending. I am such a little slut for ambiguity.
Burn (Human!Alastor x Human!Gn!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: SLOW BURN. SLOW. BURNING IMAGERY. A LITTLE OVER THE TOP ON THE BURNING IMAGERY THING. Dead bodies, blood, murder, killing, mentions of stalking. This one got away from me a bit.
Word Count: 4,197
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Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.
The box of matches pulled from the pocket had been Alastor going to the bar, all those months before. Nearly a year now, once he sat and really thought about it. He had been going to Mimzy's little speakeasy on the outskirts of town since it had been just that, a little speakeasy on the outskirts of town rather than the full fledged, illegal club she ran today.
Back when it was a speak easy, there had never been a problem. On that fateful day, though he hadn't known it then, the club had changed its form. It had become the kindling. Sitting down at the table had been pulling a match from the box and Y/n.... Y/n had been the rough hewn striker paper he lit it on. It was all so obvious now, looking back. The expression 'hindsight is 20/20' existed for a reason.
So, Alastor had entered the club (matchbox out of pocket). As soon as Mimzy had spotted him, she had run over with a bright smile and a glass of whiskey on the house as always. Alastor had always liked Mimzy. She was wild and positively hilarious when she wanted to be but, at the same time, she had a good head for business. Her morals were just wobbly enough that Alastor felt comfortable with her, a camaraderie he felt with no other.
The lights had gone down suddenly and Mimzy, cutting herself off mid sentence, had turned to the stage in excitement.
"Good show tonight?" Alastor had asked.
Alastor never came to Mimzy's club for the music. She knew he didn't care, not really. Still, he had the curtesy to ask and so, she whipped back towards him.
"You betcha." she grinned up at him, "I just got this new kid? Came from all the way up north, can you believe that? Anyway, they have a set of pipes like you wouldn't believe! Just the bees knees, I tell you."
Grabbing Alastor's arm, Mimzy dragged him to a table by the stage. Alastor sat down across from her (match from the box) with an air of mild reluctance. Mimzy tapped her hands on the table impatiently.
A spot light flickered on and a scrawny young kid stepped onto the stage. He couldn't be much younger than Alastor or Mimzy themselves but he was one of those people that always look younger than they are. He had been working for Mimzy for a while now but, Alastor had never bothered to learn his name. He was simply 'Mimz's Manager' in his view of the world. The kid cleared his throat, leaning in towards the microphone which had been placed at center stage.
"How are we feeling out there tonight?" he asked the room at large and there had been a miscellaneous cheer from the room at large, "Well that's good to hear! We've got a real treat for you tonight folks. All the way from the Big Apple, we bring you, Y/n!"
The kid left the stage and a new figure stepped out from the shadows (revelation of match striker paper). The minute Alastor saw them, in the well cut suit that shone dark in the light, he knew. They were perfect. Slim, but not too fit and shorter than he was. Morally ambiguous enough in their aims that they had come running from New York to work at a speakeasy. This 'Y/n,' if that was even their real name, was his ideal next victim. Alastor smiled in the dim light as somewhere off stage, a piano began to play.
"I'll be loving you, always" the person sang and Alastor was taken aback.
Mimzy had been right. He had never heard a voice like it before. They sang with an emotional depth that could be heard from few. Somehow, they still managed to keep it sounding like music.
"When the things you plan Need a helping hand I will understand, always, always"
Mimzy leaned across the table to Alastor, her eyes alight.
"What did I tell you?" she whispered.
Alastor nodded his head to the side in vague agreement.
"Not for just an hour Not for just a day"
When they finished their set a half hour later, it was to raucous applause. The house lights raised and with them, Mimzy stood from her chair.
"I'll be back in two shakes." she promised before disappearing off into the crowd.
Alastor leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight. Contemplatively, he took a sip from his drink. The time before a kill was nearly as an enjoyable as the act itself. It was ritualistic, it brought him closer to god.
Before he knew it, Mimzy was back, dragging the singer behind her. They looked slightly frazzled, their hair a bit messy and their brow furrowed.
"Mimzy!" they exclaimed as they struggled to keep up with the woman holding their wrist in her vice-like grip.
Their speaking voice was... different than Alastor had expected. From the way they had sung on stage, he had thought it would be sharp, loud, ebullient. Instead, it was rather soft. Alastor couldn't help but think of the creek out back of the house he had grown up in.
"Al, meet my new favorite!" Mimzy announced, coming to a stop beside Alastor.
"I..."
The situation had been unexpected to say the least. Alastor had had a long day. He hadn't come here to socialize, he came here to drink. Now, he was at a loss for words, the haze of sleep and irritation clouding his mind.
Y/n looked at Mimzy before fixing their gaze back on him. The took a step forward, fixing a smile on their face, and held out their hand.
"Y/n."
So it was their real name. The one they presented to the world, at least.
Alastor smiled, standing from his seat and taking their hand in his.
"Alastor."
They had a firm handshake. There was something authoritative about it, something just a bit too confident.
"Pleasure to be meeting you." they said.
"Quite the pleasure." Alastor nodded.
They broke contact and Y/n turned to Mimzy, suddenly seeming very tired.
"I'm gonna head, Mimzy." they hummed, their voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony surrounding them.
Before Mimzy could say a word against their statement, they were gone. The crowd sheltered them from sight almost immediately. After that night, Alastor started coming to the club a lot more often.
He always sat in the same seat, the table near stage left. It was right next to the exit. Anyone getting off the stage had to go right past him. It was a calculated choice. Step one of his little projects, so to speak, had always been learning more about his victims, finding out their patterns.
The problem was, Y/n never seemed to do the same thing twice. Every time Alastor would think himself ready, would ready everything for the action, something different happen. The first time, it had been that Y/n had simply managed to slip out earlier than normal. Mimzy was always introducing them to someone or another after their shows, delaying their departure. That night, it seemed, they had somehow been able to avoid the mayhem.
Another time, the problem had been that Y/n had stayed at the club too long. Alastor was a working man and once the clock hit midnight, it was time to cut his losses and go home. A third time, Y/n had just happened to call out sick the very night he had gotten everything back in order.
A month in, and Alastor was ready for his fourth attempt. He sat at his usual table, drinking his usual drink. When Y/n left the stage, he kept his eyes trained on them as always. It went like clockwork - Mimzy pulled them away, they tried desperately to escape and eventually, they succeeded. That was when everything went south again.
One second, Y/n was by the bar and the next? Gone. Alastor got to his feet, tossing a bill or two to the bar tender and disappearing out through the door. He was determined. Tonight had to be the night. If tonight wasn't the night? He was done. Alastor was not a foolish man, he knew when he was beat.
Quietly, nothing but the sound of cicadas and the occasional echo of a car from elsewhere in the city accompanying him, Alastor slipped down the ally he knew the club's back door let out into.
"There you are."
Alastor spun around.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."
Y/n leaned casually against the wall, the dark fabric of their dress blending softly with the night. When Alastor didn't reply, standing in their gaze like a deer in headlights, they stood themselves up and walked the step and a half it took for them to be face to face with him.
"I'd like it if you stopped following me. Or, trying to follow me. It's getting kind of old.'' (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)
Alastor resumed his composure. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he leaned forward, fixing a teasing grin onto his face.
"Oh, would you now?"
Y/n, much to his surprise, held their ground.
"Yeah, I would. Whats your interest in me anyways?"
Thinking on his feet had never been an issue for Alastor. Besides, he really did have some questions for the illusive singer. Or, he had one question for them. One that might lead to others.
"Oh, you know." he hummed, straightening back up, "All the way from the 'Big Apple.'"
Y/n scoffed at his parody of their nightly introduction to the stage. They crossed their arms, glancing off to the ally's entrance as a drunk couple stumbled by.
"Yep."
"Why?"
Turning to face him again, Y/n narrowed their eyes.
"Why do you wanna know?"
The hint of an accent. At least he knew they weren't lying about where they came from.
"I suppose you can call me a curious fan."
"I think being a bit less of both those things would suit you."
They fell into a brief, nearly uncomfortable silence. Letting out a sigh, Y/n was the one to break it.
"Look," they began, "I know you're friends with my boss and all but... I am going to go back into that dive and I am going to stay there until you are long gone. I'll stay the night if I have to, d'ya get it?"
Alastor's smile tightened.
"Loud and clear."
"Good."
Y/n didn't see Alastor for another week. Slowly, the tension that had permeated their every waking moment since meeting Alastor that first night, the constant ache of his eyes on their back, began to fade. Just a little, but it was enough. When they saw him sitting at the bar almost two weeks after their little altercation, the amount it had faded was just enough to make them angry at his return.
Alastor hadn't really meant to come back. His plan was to give it a month, maybe even two. His plan was to come back and resume life like it had been before he had ever even known Y/n existed. His mind had other plans.
He had tried to find another target, occupy himself with a new victim. There was something unsatisfying about it, he couldn't quite get his head in the game. Every time he went to trail a potential victim, he heard their voice ringing out in the silence of his mind.
There you are.
Alastor had been killing for about three years now. He had a good number of victims under his belt and was in no ways a newbie. Even back when he had been one, no one had ever caught him out like that before. There had been a couple close calls, sure. There always were but waiting for him? Thwarting his plans repeatedly? Beating him at his own game?
"I thought I told you to leave me alone."
Alastor looked up from his glass of whiskey, smiling politely up at Y/n. He could feel the anger radiating off them in waves.
"Mimzy would be rather sad if I just up and disappeared like that, no explanation."
He caught sight of her across the open space and waved. With a bright smile, Mimzy waved back before returning to the conversation she had been embroiled in. Alastor turned back to Y/n.
"Oh, wouldn't you hear that? You're getting sober. Congratulations."
"Ah, but there is still the music and that wonderful new singer who came down from up north not too long ago."
Y/n took a deep breath, calming themselves.
"It's not that hard of a question to answer. Or at least, it shouldn't be for most people. What, are you on the run from the cops? I heard life is oh so dangerous in those big cities up there, after all. Maybe part of the reason was you."
"If I answer your question, will you leave me alone?"
Alastor was silent for a short moment before he replied.
"If I like the answer? Sure. I'll leave you alone."
In a single, sharp movement, Y/n dragged the stool beside him out and sat down. Tapping their fingers on the table, they got the bartender's attention and ordered themselves a drink.
"You want to know why I left New York?" they hummed thoughtfully, "It's because of guys like you."
A shock of sudden nerves fought through Alastor's system. Did they somehow know? After all this time, had someone figured it out? After just under two months?
"Guys like me? What ever on earth do you mean?"
"You know, pretty boys. Pretty boys who turn out to be creepy boys that don't know the meaning of the word 'no.'" (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)
It wasn't the first time Alastor had been called pretty or handsome or something of the like. In fact, he knew he was pretty. It was part of why the whole ruse worked. Normally, however, when people told him he was, it was accompanied by far too much blushing and looks to the side. Y/n held his gaze firmly the whole time.
"So, you're escaping an ex? A jaded lover?"
"A jaded 'someone-who-watched-me-perform-once-and-decided-it-meant-we-were-married'? Yeah."
The bartender placed the drink in front of Y/n. They picked up the glass, downing it in one go. They grimaced.
"You like my answer?"
"Hmmm... no." Alastor grinned, ear to ear, "I don't think I do."
Y/n sighed.
"What is it you want from me?"
Alastor's brow furrowed in confusion. He was very good at keeping the inside from showing on the outside. The question had just caught him so off guard, or maybe it was something about Y/n that had him on his toes, he couldn't help it. They kept seeming to make his head spin.
"Want from you?"
"Money? Sex? Fame? A fall guy? What."
"I don't want anything from you." (match struck paper, match remained unlit.)
Y/n eyed him suspiciously. The answer had been automatic. Alastor himself was struggling to comprehend the words that had left his mouth. He wanted to kill them, right? What he wanted from them was their life, right? That was what he had been working for over all these days, fighting for. He knew it was true so why did the statement not feel like a lie as it had traveled from his tongue?
"Yeah right." Y/n placed their hands on the bar, pulling themselves to stand, "I totally believe that."
"Just your time, Songbird. Just your time."
They turned to him.
"I don't understand you."
"You don't have to. I don't understand you either."
They paused.
"It frustrates me." Y/n admitted, "Who even are you? I don't know anything except your name."
Alastor gave their now empty chair a pointed look. Y/n stood in contemplation for a few seconds before they nodded their head once, seemingly to themselves, and took their seat once again. Confidently, they tapped two fingers on the lip of their empty glass.
"Another."
(match strikes paper, match lights.)
Alastor was the match, Y/n was the paper. The club stopped being kindling the moment the pair took their conversation outside its boundaries for the first time, about a month or so later. For a while, there was no kindling, there was just match and paper. Alastor liked it that way.
It had been hard enough to come to terms with the fact that he really did have no interest in killing them anymore. That the moment such an idea occurred, he could see them in his minds eye, smiling or picking at the hem of their shirt the way they did when they were nervous.
The kindling reappeared when Alastor realized the match had been struck in the first place. That was a whole other thing. The friendship suddenly seemed easy, the loss of bloodlust directed toward them was like nothing in the face of a realization like that. Once he recognized the flame, Alastor stopped being a match and Y/n stopped being paper. The match became the little flutter of their stomachs when they caught sight of one another, the tension of the moments where they could make contact. Y/n and Alastor were kindling now and they were standing oh so very close to that dangerous flame.
It was Alastor's sleeve that caught fire first. It happened when they had gotten caught in the rain. Y/n had opened their umbrella and, seeing Alastor had none, insisted he join them in its cover. Alastor had, of course, refused. With a roll of their eyes, they had grabbed his hand and yanked him forcefully into place beside them. Alastor hadn't realized they had only touched once, when they first shook hands, until Y/n's skin made contact with his once again.
The worst part about it all, was that it made sense. It made so much sense. They were quiet, contemplative, and calculative. Before long, being with them felt like being with an extension of himself in an odd way. Alastor couldn't quite describe it, he didn't have the words.
Y/n always seemed to notice things no one else did. When Alastor had forgotten his umbrella the next three or four times it had rained, they had confronted him.
"Almost like you're doing this on purpose." they had hummed softly.
Though they didn't look at him, Y/n knew Alastor was blushing.
"Shut up."
The next thing to catch had been Y/n's collar. Y/n had been chatting with him, sharing a drink before their set and they had lost track of time. At the sound of the stage manager, Alastor still did not know his name, beginning their introduction to the stage, they had jumped up in fright, hurriedly tightening their tie which they had loosened in the casual atmosphere. Noticing that the action had caused part of their collar to fold awkwardly, Alastor had gotten to his feet as well. With a gentleness he had not made use of since his mother died, he had fixed Y/n's collar.
"Wh-" they had stopped mid question, having realized what he was doing.
His hand lingered on their collar. Y/n's eyes traveled up his arm, at last meeting his own.
"Thank you."
Those big wide eyes, full of curiosity and comfort. Alastor could get lost in those.
"Y/n!" the stage manager announced.
"Shit!" they exclaimed and the magic of the moment was broken as they pulled themselves away.
All it took was that. It wasn't much but, fire has a way of working with what it has. When a few days later Y/n had stepped out into the street without looking, being too caught up in the story they were telling Alastor, and he had pulled them back just as a car passed, it was too late. The house couldn't be saved, the flames had gone too far. A few blocks later, after thanking him, Y/n had realized they were still holding hands. They stopped, pulling Alastor to a halt beside them.
"What are we doing?"
"We're going for lunch. Are you quite alright? You were the one who sugge-"
"No, Alastor. I mean: what are we doing?"
Alastor followed the path of their eyes to their interlaced fingers.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
There was a pause. The world turned around them.
"I don't... I don't know if I can do this anymore."
Alastor took a deep breath before braving the sight of their bewildered and slightly saddened face once again.
"I said all I wanted was your time."
"That's the problem."
Y/n let go of his hand, running their own through their loose hair.
"That's the problem, Alastor." they said again.
"What is?"
Y/n had a habit of telling him the most serious things eye to eye with a stoney demeanor. He was surprised to see them break from this confident custom of theirs as they looked away, their arms wrapping protectively around themself.
"I want more. I want you to want more."
Alastor was stunned, he was speechless.
"I... I'll see you tomorrow, Al."
Before they could make it more than a step away, Alastor grabbed their shoulder, spinning them to him. Y/n looked up at him, confusion painting their features with the most delicate brush.
Alastor struggled, he fought. Still, there were no words.
"Don't you get it?" he asked, "I want your time. Y/n, I want you."
Alastor kept finding himself in trickier and trickier situations. First there had been trying to kill them, then the hurdle of not wanting to kill them. Friendship had given way to its own bag of worms and now that they were more than friends?
He had thought that it all would stop. He had thought that if things ever worked out the way they had, everything would be okay. He had forgotten his nature.
At first, hiding the killings was just as easy as it had been before. It did not stay that way. Alastor was good at hiding things, always had been. That wasn't the issue. What was the issue was that he cared about Y/n, he didn't want to hurt them. Keeping secrets... well, his mother had always told him that no one ever fools anybody. His mother was a wise woman. His mother had been right.
Y/n had stopped by as a surprise. They had a home cooked meal in a basket and a bag over their shoulder full of records they thought he would like. When they stepped into the foyer of Alastor's large, garden district home, they had called their usual greeting.
Alastor's heart had stopped at the sound of their voice. He froze, his cleaver still firmly wedged between the shoulder and chest of the man he was chopping into pieces for easier disposal. Hoping it was his mind playing tricks on him, he waited. They called again.
"Al! I have a surprise for you! The surprise is me! And also? I made you dinner. Come out! I know you're home!"
Under any other circumstances, them showing up like this would have filled him with unbridled joy. However, it wasn't any other circumstances. It was these circumstances. Alastor was covered in another man's blood. There was a body just a few rooms from his beloved. Either way, they would find out the truth. They were a nosey thing, always so inquisitive.
"Alastor!" he heard them call again.
They were closer now, much closer. He watched in a mixture of horror, despair, and a twinge of excitement as the doorknob jiiggled.
"Alastor?"
How would Y/n react to such a sight? Would they cower in fear? Was their love alone enough to hold them here, to tie them to him in loyalty? Would they run to the cops? Would they cry? Would they ask to help? Would he have to kill them too?
It was sickeningly delightful, all the unknowns. His heart pounded violently in his ears. The door swung open.
"There you are!"
Ravenous, that was the word. Not in the way where everything dissolves, leaving only the object of your affection. Not in the way that someone is controlled by desire. Hungry in the way fire eats paper, in the way kindling catches light. Starved in the way that leads to a progressive repeated sense of the word, a starving. A constant state of being famished that turns into a well loved and cared for blaze. Alastor burned.
"My dear! How wonderful to see you."
----
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Sorry if the end made you angry,,, I just think the not knowing is so much more fun!
Also the song is "Always" by Irving Berlin.
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y3nze1 · 2 months
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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | c.I
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: I / II / III / IV / V / VI
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Readings!
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"You know Loralie.. i should just.. try, don't i?" you pondered to yourself, pacing back and forth as she laid there unenthusiastically, for months you've been tuning on to a particular radio station, you would find yourself stopping everything to listen to the music being blasted on there.
not on because of the music, but to also the broadcaster, he has the persuading voice, like a salesman with the large inviting smile, grabbing your interest till it's fully caught.
you fiddle through the long cord. biting your nails as you dialed up. you stare back at Loralie who's been staring at your agitated figure for the last hour.
"Oh Y/n, just type it in will ya'? don't waste the clam in that slot, just go ahead. stop bein' such a piker!" she huffed, lighting the end of her cigarette as she rolled along the couch, watching your actions.
with a gulp, your hands on the number plate, rolling in the station's number. waiting as it rang.
As the telephone sound clicked, you were through. your eyes dadted towards loralie, who's eyes widened at your sudden glimpse.
"i.. im through" loralie smiled, excitedly sitting by your side as she tuned in along. the telephone status was sort of static, either way, still hearable.
"well scoot over, and start speakin!" she muttered at you, frantically nudging your arm.
"alrighttt-" you coughed a bit, before turning your attention to the telephone in your hands, waiting patiently to hear his voice. only seconds later, you heard a muffle noise across, as if it was being picked up, and it was that then you heard his enthusiastic voice, one that makes you flutter inside.
You scoot over to make room for Loralie as she eagerly nudges your arm. You brace yourself as you hear the broadcaster's voice come over the line
. There is a static sound to his telephone, and it sounds like he's trying to tune in to pick up on you.
He must be using an older receiver model that is a bit outdated but works well enough.
Still, you can make out his voice clearly enough and it is his recognizable charm and charisma that immediately has your attention.
"You have reached Alastor Altruist! From New Orleans, Louisiana, Welcome to my Broadcast!~ and who might be on the end?" his tone bright and giddy, making you melt for a moment, slightly stuttering as you spoke back to him.
"You can call me.." you turned to Loralie for a moment, before turning back to the telephone. "you can call me Daisy" you smiled at your words, you felt you're mouth growing wider with glee.
"Well it's a pleasure to meet you... Daisy." he gives you a charming grin as he speaks, his voice still just as enchanting. He's got you reeled in, like a fish biting on the hook. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know you and it's almost too easy. You feel drawn to him like a moth to the flame, you can't seem to help yourself as he sweetly speaks to you.
"Do you listen to my broadcasts often, Daisy?" he asks, his voice laced with smooth charm. You're not sure if it's all for the show, but you have an overwhelming feeling of attraction towards him. He makes you feel something you've never felt before so strongly towards a person. You feel like you could get lost in his warmth.
"well, you could say, quite often", you responded. "Really? That's wonderful to hear. I'm always grateful for listeners like you who appreciate my work." he says, his tone full of genuine appreciation as if you are a precious asset to him.
You blush slightly as a sense of euphoria washes over you. He's got his grip on you tight, and you already have this deep, irresistible attraction to this man.
"well either way, what song would you like to request for today?" you paused for a moment before speaking up again. "uhmm.. A Precious Little Thing Called Love, by Milt Shaw and His Detroiters"
"A good, simple choice!~ very classy. I'll be sure to relay the song for you, Daisy. Stay tuned~" his tone was still sweet and charismatic, he was still charming despite you giving him a simple choice. You still felt intoxicated from his presence, even though it was only through a phone call. It was as if he had a firm hold on your soul.
"This is Alastor Altruist, playing you. A Precious Little Thing Called Love, by Milt Shaw and His Detroiters" moments later, the call finished, your requested song playing on the radio, you smiled yo yourself as you tuned in, with Loralie right behind you, smirking at your sudden change of name.
"Y/n!.. are you serious dear? daisy. you are going to use daisy as a codename?! what kind of horsefeathers is that!" she let out a laugh, staring at your frame while you sat down beside her, tuning on the radio.
you didn't give a bother about her yapping, he smiled to yourself as the music blasted through the small speaker.
tapping your fingers to the beat, humming under your breath. Loralie's eyes widened at her realization. "y/n.. don't you be fibbin' on me but you seem to be, practically.. hmm, swayded.. per say?" she jumped up, wrapping her arms around you, her tone teasing. "i just think he's.. keen! yes.. keen" with that, she let out a chuckle at your response.
"Darlin, He's a radio broadcaster! ain't no way you'll be leavin' this joint if you get with him, find someone with the clams! you aren't really going to settle for less, are ya?" she paced back and forth.
huffing her cigarette, focused on you. "i just think he's ritzy.." you let out a nervous chuckle, your body laying onto the sofa. After a few minutes of silence. she sighed, throwing the old cigarette to the side before plopping down beside you as she scratched her forehead. "butt me."
you nodded at her request, grabbing a new batch of cigarettes, lighting the other end for her to easily access.
"I'm just saying.. would you rather stay in a jalopy rather than having the opportunity to hop in a swanky car! no. i don't think so." Loralie smirked, taking a huff on her cigarette. you stared down onto the hardwood floor, thinking to yourself before you muttered back.
"i don't think we should be to quick to judge.. Loralie, he's a pretty sweet man.." Loralie scoffed. "exactly. we shouldn't be quick to judge, who knows! he'd be a cannibal.. or some criminal doing god knows what activities." Loralie tone, sternly speaking up, she turned to the side to face you.
"look darlin', we've only got each other. and thank the stars we aren't stuck with just a sawbuck. we have a home and food in our stomachs everyday. so we gotta stick together darlin." her hands placed softly on your cheek as she spoke, smiling sweetly at you in which you return too.
As Loralie was out in town, You spent the rest of the day, tuning on your radio as always, prancing around the room as your ears perked uo to the swingy toons being played, you giggled to yourself, the skirt around your waist following you to your spins, flowing delicately as it fly up along with your speed and the wind.
for a moment you stopped, your eyes darted to the telephone.
you bit your bottom lip in nervousness as you approached it. you blinked for a few times, finding the right time to call, waiting for the music to finish. spending a few seconds as the melody died down. your fingers span the number plate. letting it dial. finally, it clicked. his voice as charming as always.
"You have reached me, Alastor Altruist! From New Orleans, Louisiana, Welcome dear called to the broadcast!~ good to know you're tuning in, and who might be on the end?" he tapped the surface of his desk. waiting for you to answer back. "hello! uh.. it's daisy.. again" you nervously spoke up. "Miss Daisy! coming in for another round for request, alright. how could i be of service with your request" you paused for a moment, thinking for a bit.
"Ah-.. uh.. yes, i'd request stardust by Hoagy Carmichael.. if that isn't taken already" you were still feeling slightly nervous as you spoke, almost forgetting your manners due to the overwhelming feeling of admiration towards him, even hearing his voice was enough to send a rush of adrenaline and euphoria through your veins. you couldn't seem to turn away from his charm as you leaned in to speak into the phone again. you asked, he chuckled back.
"why yes of course, stardust by Hoagy Carmichael will be on next. i expect that I'll get another song request, Miss Daisy? going three for three?" you softly chuckled at his antic, he found it amusing for a moment. patiently waiting for your voice to answer back. "of course, i have a lot more requests coming up." he smiled to himself.
The broadcaster gave you a sweet, reassuring chuckle as you spoke. You could feel his playful tone as he spoke back to you. "Well, this night is going to be a good one, I'm sure of it. I'll keep an eye out for that next song request, Miss Daisy.. i'll be waiting.." he softly called out. his tone softening, chuckling to the words you mumbled before dropping the call.
"well then, play me a song, radio man"
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hallowedandhungry · 2 months
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You find Human!Alastor in the woods burying a body and fire a warning shot near his head.
His head shoots up, eyes connecting with yours as you have your gun still aimed at him. You're too far away to see the mass of emotions flickering behind his eyes, but you can feel the charge of electricity in the air before a decision is made.
He throws his shovel to the ground and runs, leaving the still unburied body behind. Sloppy.
The hunt is on.
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p1errost4r · 1 month
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☆ | author's note : hello ! Im so sorry for not posting for so long. :33 I have been feeling bad lately , but now that i spent most of my pocket money on energy drinks ... or vapes ( i have been drinking one per day for 20 days straight ) so it gave me an idea.
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★ | warnings : gn!reader ; fluff mostly ; cursing ( from reader mostly ) ; modern!human!alastor ; might be un canon ; can be seen both as planotic and romantic ( no specifics ) ; reader is in university ; alastor and reader are both in their early 20s ; in this AU alastor is not a murderer.
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Well it has been a while since you properly slept.
Your grades , for the most part weren't great so you spent hours to days studying without a stop until you were just dizzy from not eating for days on end. And not only that but your grades were still hot shit , which worried you since you didn't want to lose your scholarship. It wad already rare , so you were "blessed".
As you opened the apartment door the sounds of jazz met your ears , Alastor was already home. You didn't want to make your boyfriend upset , mostly about your habits , but you didn't know what to do to keep yourself a bit fresher than you wanted to be. You drifted into your thoughts as you took of your coat and hung it , then stepped into the apartment... well , stumbled. It would be much more fitting.
"Ah , dear , didn't notice you there ! How was your day?"
Alastor said with a smile as he helped you with your bag.
"Shitty , as usual. I think i'll fail geomtery this semester."
You exclaimed. Alastor chuckled as he led you to the kitchen.
"Well i think if you actually were healthy your grades would be much better so i-"
"Al. Babe , you don't have to take care of me , im not a child. It's only a month until the exams so i need to study non stop."
You gave him a gentle kiss on the head. He always cooked for you , every evening so by now your humble little apartment was nearly a food storage. You felt guilty and ungreatful , he worked hard and you just ended up brushing it off.
You went to the fridge and took out another energy drink... for gods sake it was the 3rd one today. Alastor took your wrist before you could open it.
"Darling i insist... and i'd prefer that you stopped drinking those ,it's bad for the heart ! And i don't want you getting more sick. Besides , it's saturday and i think you should give sunday out to take care of yourself."
You stared at him with your tired eyes. It was ... true. Everything he said was true. You barely payed attention to him even , which made you feel worse. You sighed before you brushed off his hand.
"Last one , Al. I swear i'll eat later."
You opened the can and took a gulp.
You realized it barely even helped you at this point , even though you had like a whole stash in your fridge. It was now a mere apitizer for your pathetic little life.
"Ugh , fine."
Alastor calmed down a bit and as you sat down at the table he placed a plate in front of you then sat across you , just watching you.
"You're not gonna eat ?"
"Oh , i already did."
"You know you don't look any better than me."
Alastors expression became annoyed. You looked like a skeleton and could barely lift up your bag, which wasn't that heavy because it was all just notes and papers.
"Fine , fine , im sorry."
You said before a shaky chuckle escaped your lips.
"You better be."
"Oh nooo , im so scared of mister thin tall and bad."
He forced out a laugh.
"Be greatful that mister thin tall and bad keeps you fed."
You couldn't complain about that. Your boyfriend was an absolute charmer. You decided to continue eating in silence.
"Maybe i'll have the honor to sleep with you tonight instead of you sleeping on your desk ?"
You just nodded. The idea was great ... but you'd lose 8 hours of studying.
"What do i get in return?"
"Oho , what do you get ? I think you got enough. Consider it... payment."
You laughed at your boyfriend.
Honestly you sometimes thought how'd you even get him into your arms. He was the one to initiate every move at first. Gifting you various gifts and even helping you with your home task, which you failed... plenty of times. He was such a charmer , and you were a clean paper. It seemed irrational
You snapped out of your thoughts... literally , ad Alastor snapped his fingers in front of your face.
"Eat up. We have to go to bed soon."
"I love you."
Alastor stared at you for a good moment before he slowly chuckled with a sweet voice.
"I love you too... but you still hsve to eat."
His hand lifted up to your face and wiped the corner of your mouth with a napkin.
What a sweet night.
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♱   | ok but i would LOVE to live like that. I cry for 2 hours straight when i come back from university or work. ( average adulthood life )
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noharazillar · 13 days
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nanami1chu · 2 months
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Someone please write about Cursed Cat Alastor!!
He’s so ugly but funny looking at the same time it’s cute! I want him lmao ❤️
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jazzmasternot · 1 month
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It’s gotten bad
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citrussmootee · 2 months
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uee finally started reading deer dolly by ohproserpine on ao3 ! im a sucker for smitten alastor... deer dolly
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mutifandomkid · 14 days
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I love this Alastor, the way I would’ve let him kill me 😭
Credits go to @leonsartstuff on twitter
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jyoongim · 1 month
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Feel absolutely free to delete this if it makes you uncomfortable but I would like to request human Alastor and a reader with an age gap between them.
Like I mean the reader is of course the age to concent but I like to imagine Alastor (who is canonically in his late thirties/early forties before he died) enjoying hearing reader calling him ‘daddy’ and begging him to put a baby in her.
Again feel free to reject
THINK I NEED SOMEONE OOOLLDDDEEEERRR DUNDUNDUN
Themes: age gap, Alastor is in late 30s, fem!reader, reader is in early 20s, term ‘daddy’ used sexual, slight breeding kink, baby fever, ovulation
Part 2
‘Aint he a bit…old?’
’oh honey the man is practically your father’
’You’re far too young to want to settle with that fossil’
’how do you expect him to raise children?’
’what he couldn’t find a woman his own age? Robbing the cradle ain’t he?’
Sometimes you’re a little wary of letting people meet your husband. Especially when he was 15 years older than you, a mere 23 year old.
Yes Alastor was a bit older than you, but you didn’t mind. 
You rather enjoyed having someone who has experienced the world a little and would happily provide for you.
The gossip about the two of you always gnawed at your nerves, but you didn’t care, not when he treated you like a princess. 
 Alastor gave you any and everything you needed and wanted, so to hell with the whispers.
As of late, you have been having baby fever. You swore your insides tingle when you are engaged with a child. Your ovaries screaming to have a little bundle of your own to care for.
It didn’t help you’re ovulating…and your husband was looking like he would make the best father for your kids.
The two of you were out in town shopping, when you spotted the cutest baby set. You tugged his arm, to gain his attention to the display in the window. “Darlin what is it?” He asked as you excitedly squealed. You turned to him, lips pouty and giving him your best puppy eyes as you pointed to the display “oh can we get it? Pleeeaaassseee baby. C’mon wont you buy it for me?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands dancing lightly along his neck as you pressed your lips to the corner of his.
You knew how to work him that’s for sure.
Alastor hummed tilting his head as he mulled it over. He could never tell you ‘no’, even if it was ridiculous. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, cock twitching in his trousers as you playfully bit it. “You are a little minx you know that?” He sighed, letting you drag him into the store.
“But why do you want baby clothes dear?” he genuinely asked, looking at the displays on a wall as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 
You nipped at his ear, tugging the soft flesh cooing into his ear, voice soft and innocent “Because we're gonna need it when I have your baby. Wont you like that? To put a baby in me? Your baby. I think you’ll make a great Daddy. Dont you think daddy?” You purred making the tall man quickly pay for the clothes and drag you out the store, making you giggle.
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"fuuuck, d-don't stop. Ah!" you moan as his cock rams into your pussy, feeling the stretch. His cock is going deep inside of your body, hitting the spongy nerve over and over, making you gush more around his already slicer-covered cock. Alastor’s fingers find your puffy, throbbing clit and he rubs it n tune with speed of his thrusts. Your eyes roll deep inside of your skull as you let out high pitched moans and whines. For once, Alastor is loud, groaning and cursing at the tightness of your pussy.  It’ll never not amaze him that no matter how many times he fucks you, you're always so tight, like you were made just for him.
"gonna cum inside f-fuck baby I’m gonna fill you up so much" he grunts you, kissing your shoulder as he angled his thrusts so he hits your sweet spot. you whine, you're so close, you arched your back to take the impact of his thrust deep into you.
"Oh fuck oo-Oh fuck ah ah ah Ha!f-fuck Al! I-im cumming! Oh god! Yes!" you cry out, toes curling as you push your ass back onto his cock. You mewled as clear liquid squirted out of you and made a mess of the bed. That alone with your cunt fluttering had his cock twitch and his release soon approaches.
"you want my babies? Huh? You gonna let me fuck a baby in you darlin?" he asks you, eyes fixated on his cock disappearing into the creamy mess that was your cunt. You babbled nonsense as your body tries to recover from your orgasm and twitching from overstimulation.
Alastor tugged your hair back, redirecting your attention as his cock slotted into you over and over. “You gotta use you words baby. C’mon what do you want from Daddy?” He grinned feeling your cunt clench.
You sobbed as you felt a finger in your ass, another orgasm raking through you “c-cum. I want your cum inside me. Please! Daddy please put a baby in me! i want to have your babies just please”
Alastor hummed as you cummed again, he laughed "Cant believe I made you cum without my tongue first. But don’t worry, ill give you that too, after I fuck my cum in your pussy. We want it to take don’t we? Yeeeaaa we do. C’mon baby take it take my cum, let me fuck a baby into you.” 
A harsh thrust had you see white and he slammed his lips on yours as his hips shuddered against your ass, cock twitching as he emptied his balls into you.
He sighed as he curled you into his chest, cock still buried inside you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, smiling  “You’ll make such a beautiful momma baby. I can’t wait to have several little ones running about” 
You tilted your head slightly “you want more than one?”
Alastor’s smile deepened “Oh you didn’t think I would stop at just one did you?”
Your cunt fluttered, making him laugh “seems we agree perfectly”
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y3nze1 · 2 months
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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | c.2
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: I / II / III / IV / V / VI
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Mentions of Blood and Knife, Happy Readings!
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"And a song you shall have, Miss Daisy." He spoke sweetly, his voice warm and inviting. He chose a song for her, a love song that was sure to melt her heart. The melody was soft and sweet, and the lyrics were nothing short of poetry. As he played the song, he imagined her listening to it, her eyes closed as she floated away on a sea of emotion. He watched from his window as the moon shimmered in the sky, and he knew that it was going to be a night to remember.
As Alastor began playing the song on the radio, he felt as if his heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't help but wonder what Miss Daisy looked like, what her life was like. He found himself thinking about her constantly, her voice and her kindness stuck in his mind.
Every time she called in with a request, his heart fluttered at the sound of her voice. And each time she asked for a love song, his feelings for her only grew stronger.
Weeks of regular requests from Miss Daisy. It only sparked his curiosity with how devoted she is to listening to his radio show, over and over again.
One night, as he was winding down the show, Alastor received a special request from Miss Daisy, a popular love song at that time. He couldn't believe it. Miss Daisy always had the best taste in music, and this song was no exception.
"This is perfect," Alastor said over the airwaves. "I can't wait to play it for you, Miss Daisy."
As he played the song, his heart raced with excitement. He was sure that Miss Daisy would love it, and he couldn't wait to hear her reaction.
When the song ended, he waited anxiously for Miss Daisy to call back.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Miss Daisy called back. Her voice was soft and nice, and Alastor could feel the gratitude and appreciation in her words.
"That song was incredible, Alastor," Miss Daisy said. "Thank you so much for playing it."
Alastor felt a rush of gratification. He was so glad that he could bring Miss Daisy this much joy and happiness through his music.
As for you, your fingers fiddled through the radio, turning it off, you stared out onto the night's sky. walking to the open balcony, watching the bustling city and it's different shaded light. some dim. some absolutely shining. you huffed to yourself.
With all of a sudden, The phone rang. ultimately, you picked it up. with Loralie on the other line, you were filled with glee as she gladly muttered out your name.
"Y/n, Darlin.. We're gonna be home tomorrow by 9, could you prepare the breakfast for me n' lewis, sugarplum?" she exclaimed. the sounds of bags and object clangs emitted in the background. you hummed in response, taking responsibility for making the breakfast by the time they came home. "Thank you darlin, take care okay? you yap all about your week when we come home, alright, okay.. tata moonpie~" with that, she dropped the call. you sighed, contented of finally not being alone.
You were content as the sounds of Loralie's voice faded away. You had been feeling a little bit alone lately, and her call had brought you a sense of comfort and connection. Finally, you laid in bed, drifting off to sleep.
The next day went by, the sunlight slowly creeping the room, You began to prepare breakfast for her and her boyfriend, You wanted to make them something special, something that would make them feel welcomed and appreciated.
You spent the next few minutes preparing everything, getting the ingredients for the breakfast that you knew they loved the most. You cooked up some scrambled eggs, fried some bacon, and toasted some bread. You even whipped up a batch of pancakes from scratch.
When everything is ready, you put the food on a plate and set it on the table. You sat down on the couch and waited nervously for them to arrive.
Finally, the sound of keys jangling in the door echoed through the apartment. Lorilie and her boyfriend walked in, both looking weary from a long day of traveling. "Y/n, Darling, i missed ya! utterly missed ya.." she pulled you into a tight hug, setting down her headdress onto the sofa. along with the bags. she glanced over the breakfast filled table, pulling Lewis, Her boyfriend over.
"Make sure you both eat a lot.." you muttered seating on the opposite side of the two. taking a munch of the pancakes, sighing in delight as you did. You felt a sense of accomplishment and happiness at having done something nice for someone else. For a few seconds of chewing, Lewis glanced over his wrist watch, eyes widening of the time.
"Loralie.. Y/n.. i-i'm afraid i need to get going" he frantically muttered, standing up from his seat, grabbing his coat while Loralie followed behind. "Lewis! you haven't finished breakfa-" she was cut off with a kiss he planted on her cheek before leaving. she sighed. watching him leave the place, Loralie hurriedly ran over to the balcony, calling out to him. "Lewis! make sure to call me when you get home!" she exclaimed, waving her hands as he left.
"Well, he seems busy.." you spoke up, calmly taking a bite of the food on your plate. Loralie then headed over to you, placing her chair beside you. as for the next few hours. she told all the wonderful things that went on during their vacation. "Well then we went for a joy ride, and good golly, that's all of it." she then turned to you, smiling. "What about you, Dear?, What did you do all week?"
You felt a sense of warmth and comfort as Loralie began to talk about her vacation. You listened intently, enjoying the sound of her voice as she described all of the beautiful places they had visited. You could tell that she was truly excited about the trip, and you were happy that she had a good time.
You thought for a moment before replying, "To be honest, I'm not sure what went by or happened.. This week was kind of a blur." You let out a small laugh, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I think I spent most of my time listening to the radio and reading books."
She paused for a moment. grinning. "Let me guess, you kept on requesting songs from Alastor.. did you? y/n? or should i say.. 'Miss Daisy'." she let out a chuckle. patting your back softly. "Well, i did, but it was for a good cause! I am a loyal listener. okay?" you happily spoke up. fiddling with the fork on your empty
You couldn't help but smile at Loralie's teasing comment. You knew that you were a loyal listener, but you didn't think that anyone else noticed. It was a little embarrassing, but also flattering that someone else had picked up on it.
"I just...I love his voice, and the way he plays his music. It makes me feel...calm, I guess." You shrugged, feeling a little silly for having such strong feelings about a radio host. Loralie laughed. "Well, there's nothing wrong with that, moonpie, well, I think it's rather sweet of you. I'm sure the guy appreciates having such a loyal listener like you." She gave you a comforting pat on the back before getting up to clear the table.
"Well, he has dozens of listeners too, and you know.. err" Loralie placed a finger on your lips. hushing you for a moment. "There's no room to be so humble, darlin" she laughed. grabbing the empty plates, placing it on the sink. patting her hands dry after.
The night went by as always, like a blur. Alastor sat there, With his blood stained hands, dripping down arms, onto his gleaming white fabric. His button up also stained with the red liquid. He hummed along the tune he played on the radio. Taking in the pleasure of his loneliness in the studio. The telephone rang, echoing across the room.
He placed the coated knife onto the table beside him. His hand reached the device, picking it up. bringing it up to his ear. he cooed, answering the call. "You have reached Alastor Altruist! From New Orleans, Louisiana, Welcome to my Broadcast.. and who might be on the other end of this pleasant call?"
The voice at the other end of the line was soft, almost hauntingly sweet. "Alastor, it's me again… Daisy." The caller's voice was familiar to Alastor, and he felt a twinge of excitement course through his veins. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.
"Daisy, it's always a pleasure to hear from you," Alastor said, keeping his voice calm and steady. "What can I do for you tonight?"
"Oh, just a request for a song," Daisy said, her voice like music to Alastor's ears. "I hope it's not too much trouble?"
"Of course not, darling. I'd be delighted to play any song you'd like," Alastor replied, his mind already racing with possibilities. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. "What song would you like to hear tonight?"
"I'd like the 'April Showers by Al Jolson'" she softly giggled. "April Showers," Alastor repeated, his voice smooth and clear. "That's a wonderful choice, Daisy. I'm sure our listeners will enjoy it just as much as I will." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'll make sure to play it just for you, darling," he said, his voice filled with a hint of amusement.
With that, he finally played the song. grabbing a clean cloth to wipe the blood off of his arm. along with the once plastered on his face. After he dropped the call. he muttered.
"Keep calling me, Beautiful Stranger.."
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[Y/N is having dinner at Alastor’s place]
Human!Alastor, cutting meat : And so I said to myself that if I didn’t become a radio host by 39 I was just gonna become a serial killer *laughs*
Y/N, suddenly feeling nervous : 🙂
Y/N : Well how old are you now? I’m getting nervous 😅
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Alastor - [TOUCH STARVED]
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A/N: Photo/Fanart Credit to @/Nyer_roth on Twitter (hiatus)
[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM/CAT HYBRID DEMON READER ]
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Touch Starved Alastor prefers your presence over anyone else’s in the Hotel. His shadows linger by your side if he’s not physically there and when he is it’s quite obvious to everyone how closely the Radio Demon is guarding you.
No one dares to breathe a word about his behavior but the moment he’s out of sight or ear shot Angel will tease you endlessly. “Seems you have Mr. Fancy Creep wrapped round your little finger, toots.” Your face flushes ten shades of red as the spider demon nudges your side while giggling at your flustered reaction. He knows -well everyone knows how you feel about Alastor- but you’ve made it a point to never let the overload onto your attraction to him.
Even if he already is aware of it…
Angel’s teasing doesn’t help your little crush dissolve as you wished it would, so with a huff and a rushed whisper you excuse yourself from the group. “N-no I don’t Angel and…I’m heading to bed. Goodnight…” Angle snickers at your deliberate deflecting, but says nothing else as you waltz up the staircase, barely listening to Charlie yelling “good night” to you, and failing to notice the dark mass of spectrums trailing your every step.
Touch Starved Alastor listens in on those pesky conversations the others have when it comes to you and him. You’re always so skittish and docile under their prying, blushing at the slightest implication of his attention being on you, and to say it intrigues him would be an understatement. Alastor isn’t one to entertain those who show him affection, let alone acknowledge it, but when it comes to you the overload’s mind runs rampant with devious desires. At first he ignores them, content with keeping your connection to him cordial, and that works for a time.
It doesn’t last forever though.
Especially when you unconsciously tend to him so reverently. You’re a people pleaser by nature -he’s sure of that- but the immediate stars in your eyes whenever he instructs you to do something strikes just the right nerve for him.
It’s always the simplest things, tedious tasks he burdens you with just to see your eagerness to please him on repeat, “My dear, would you be so kind as to hand me that book over there?” Your head lifts, hopeful eyes staring at him as you nod with a genuine smile, “Of course!” You chirp, walking right over to the bookshelf without question to acquire the item, and Alastor watches your every move.
The flutter of your lashes as you pinpoint the object, how you stand on your tip toes to reach it, and the gentle sway of your hair as you finally grasp the book. You’re so sweet, so gentle with everything, and Alastor spends hours trying to stop himself from thinking about your tender embrace being spared his way.
Touch Starved Alastor starts to lock himself in his room or radio tower more often than usual when he can’t seem to keep his distance. His shadows still lord over you but are never seen which makes it that much easier for him to watch you from afar.
His sudden disappearance and lack of socializing affects you heavily. You don’t smile as much and when you do the light in your eyes wanes. You’re still kind to everyone, but choose to sit alone during group activities, or wander the halls humming to avoid them all together.
Alastor takes notice of every frown adorning your face when someone mentions him or inquires as to where he is and for a split second guilt creeps its way into him seeing your energetic mood dwindle at his hands.
He can’t let this go on forever, not when you look so betrayed at the sound of his name, and mindlessly wander towards his empty room every night as if to check on him just to leave in fear of embarrassment.
Enough is enough.
Touch Starved Alastor finds you alone on a rare stormy night in Hell, an old book opened up to your curious eyes as you lay flat on your front across the parlor’s couch. He watches you from the shadows for a long while, studying the slight scrunch of your nose as your gaze happens open a certain line of text, and the way you gently kick your feet as your chin rests on the back of your hands.
He’s seen and met a mass amount of beings in his time in hell and not one has ever emitted anything close to your ethereal beauty. You swear you’re not a fallen angel to anyone who asks and it baffles him how a soul so light could end up here.
Unruly luck….maybe?
Fate, possibly?
He’ll figure it out one way or another.
“Hello, my dear, late night reading I see…” Alastors voice grasps your attention immediately, his usual staticky tone leaning towards normality as you peer up at him with a growing smile. “Yes…I couldn’t sleep,” you respond quietly, relatively shy around the overload, and trying hard not to seem overexcited to see him. You missed Alastor dearly the past few days but it would be embarrassing to show that longing outright….
The deer demon picked up on your excitement right away despite your attempts at casualness, his smile softening as you held his stare and bit your lip. Delicate fanged canines poking out just enough to prick your lower lip.
How adorable, Alastor inwardly muses at your nervous habit and continues with his light hearted interrogation. “Hm, I suppose a restless night can have that effect. ..Would you mind if I joined you then, darling?”
Touch Starved Alastor is elated when you nod gently, shifting to sit up properly, and give him a space beside you. “Of course Alastor…it gets lonely staying up by yourself. I’d appreciate the company.” Your sweet tone dazes him for a moment as he sits next to you, unconsciously disregarding his aversion to interpersonal space…
Odd…
He never situates himself this close to you, always looming, but never actively seeking your side. It’s strange to you at first but as he visibly relaxes you don’t mind the deliberate position he’s taken.
He could very well be tired or you might be hallucinating that he was putting an arm around your shoulders.
Either option didn’t ease the rapid pace of your heartbeat..
Alastor was careful with you, incredibly gentle as he pulled you to his side, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Such a sweetheart you are, my dear.” He speaks quietly, oddly calm as you hum in agreement, your soft ears flattening as you breathe in his scent.
A smidge of brimstone mixed with the aroma bourbon and pine.
He smelled just like a lovely forest, a secure scent you wouldn’t mind getting used to, and tried to commit it to memory just in case Alastor never let you get this close to him again.
Touch Starved Alastor chuckles lowly when you breathe him in, finding your feline tendencies endearing, and listening to your soft purring become a vocal indicator of how comfortable you felt with him. You’d long forgotten the book, nuzzling your head under Alastor’s chin instead, getting lost in your innocent desire to be under him, and he makes no move to stop you.
If anything the radio demon welcomes your touch, sliding you onto his lap with ease, and that never ending smile of his becoming genuine when you absentmindedly compliment him. “…You smell…sweet,” you hum, speaking more to yourself than him, but he hears you and responds promptly. “Is that so, darling?”
You nod, head lifting to stare up at him through your lashes, “Mhm…I missed it..I…” you pause, face flushing red as the deer demon peers back at you, red eyes glinting with dormant affection as he studies your expressions.
“Come now, use your words dear…” he reassures you his patience isn’t waning with a gentle hum.
Alastor is tempted to watch your plush lips move as you struggle to speak up but it’s hard to resist when you finally whisper a confession -one you think he’ll be off put by…
“W-well I missed you entirely Alastor… a lot actually.” And there you go again, eyes wide with apprehensive hope, and ever present adoration. He’d felt his fair share of adrenaline rushes, experienced the “blood rushing to your head” urges that sinners and demons alike couldn’t resist, and though Alastor prided himself in remaining in control of such things…
You brought them out of him without even trying.
Ridiculous, truly…but the longer you fawned over him the less cordiality Alastor maintained.
Touch Starved Alastor lets his smile soften, deeply appreciating your timid vulnerability, and much to your relief he lets you know it. “Missed me? Well, I must have quite the effect on you to instill such a sentiment,” His tone is abundantly softer than usual, quietly echoing in the hotels parlor, and tickling the nerves in your ears.
They perk up along with your tail as he rests his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close until the only proper place you can latch your hands onto is the back of the carved mahogany frame of the couch. “Al…” you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip on you tightens a tad in response.
When had he gotten so touchy? Better yet, why?
All logical questions that you were asking yourself weren’t granted answers as the overlord inhaled heavily. Breathing you in just as you’d done to him moments ago.
Your unsteady pulse, rising lust, slight confusion, and underlying fear of him coursing through your veins in waves. Alastor identified each emotion, practically tasting them on his tongue, and his hunger rose again from it.
He could just eat you alive at this rate and from the whine you let out as he trailed his hands down to your thighs, claws ripping right through the sheer white thigh high socks you’d paired with a modestly short nightgown made it abundantly clear to him you wouldn’t mind if he did.
How sweet you’d taste?
How the shaky whines you were letting out now could turn to bashful screams?
How sickeningly perfect you’d look broken, bloody, and marked by him and him alone?
He’d wondered about these things constantly…feverishly…
Touch Starved Alastor lets his mirage of being a “true gentleman” dissipate entirely when you subconsciously roll your hips down on him for much needed friction -and in an attempt to dissolve the pain his scratches on your skin brought.
Fuck. This. Alastor curses himself, swiftly repositioning you both in a blink of an eye. Your back hits the velvet cushions with a gentle ‘thud’, earning a soft gasp on your part that’s inevitably silenced by one of his shadows wrapping around your mouth, and another gingerly snaking round your waist. He chuckles as you squirm underneath him, clearly wanting to be in control of your own body, but what would you ever need that autonomy for?
He’s here for a reason, right?
Why grant you more agency than required?
“Comfortable, my dear?” The leering stag above you chides, grin wide as you groan in frustration, eyes sliding shut as he slips between your parted legs. His red irises show brighter as your lower halves press flush against each other and you shudder from the contact -inwardly congratulating yourself for not wearing much underneath your nightdress to begin with.
Alastor allowed your hands to reach for him, your delicate claws gripping his suit collar as firmly as possible, tugging him lower as you shifted under his weight to grind against him. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he half reprimands half teases as your bare slit passes over the crotch of his black dress pants. There was no doubt your slick was leaving a stain and if it were anyone else -in any other situation- Alastor would’ve had their head for ruining his attire.
Luckily, you were to receive anything but his wrath.
How fortunate…
Touch Starved Alastor feels himself going mad when you mindlessly use any part of him you can reach as a bid for more pleasure. Eyes watering, begging him to touch you, help you, and it’s one hell of a sight to see in his opinion. “Desperate aren’t we, darling?” His cooing drives you insane, large hands wandering under your nightgown to trace your warm skin -not helping your dazed state at all.
Alastor purposefully claws at your body, placing surface level scars on it, letting the small droplets of blood that escape his cuts paint your skin and his fingertips. You struggle every soften, train of thought lagging as pain and pleasure start to intertwine.
“….please don’t stop..”
“What a sick & twisted little thing you are..”
Tears run down your face, drool dripping from the corner of your lips, and your cunt leaking all over him and sofa. Blood starts to seep through your nightdress in random streaks and it’s only then that Alastor decide it’s redundant to keep it on you. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” That’s all the warning you get from the radio demon before you feel his claws shred it to pieces.
Thank heavens you hadn’t chosen your favorite one tonight or you’d be devastated…
“Much, much better, ma chère,” Alastor praises you as if the task was at your own hands -and to some degree it was for letting him get this far- and yet your face flushes a deep shade of red as you nod in agreement.
The shadowy tentacle covering your mouth tightens its grip, shifting sharply to expose your neck to him, and Alastor seizes the opening immediately. Taking his time finding your sensitive spots, marking them with his teeth and tongue until there’s dark bruises left behind, and you nearly came undone from the relentless precision of love bites he inflicts on you.
Touch Starved Alastor allows your hands wander wherever they please, quite taken with the feeling of your dainty claws raking down his back, or shifting up to pet his ears. They flicker about at your touch, ever so sensitive, and heightening the pleasure he gets from torturing you. Every sound you make, the shuddering moans against his lips, and the muffled cries that build in your chest when Alastor toys with you muddles his focus further.
Bit by bit you’re chipping away at his sanity by simply enjoying his caress and offering him yours.
Alastor isn’t one to succumb to pleading easily but when you’re given the chance to use your voice and beg for release without a second thought….he hasn’t got the gall to deny you.
Not when you’re looking up at him like you might die if he denies you, so worked up that you stutter, and shake uncontrollably.
“N-need to….p-please let me…come,” you whine as quietly as possible, ears laying flat on your head as he hums melodically in false consideration for your plight.
It’s fueling his already massive ego that you’re poised to come undone when he’s barely done a thing to you and he has half the mind to pull away and watch you fall to pieces…
You’d surely give him a show then, pouting helplessly, or cowering from embarrassment realizing how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself for him.
It’d be pure entertainment.
However, why waste a prime opportunity to see you utterly satisfied by him?
By his mere presence even.
The deer demon refuses to pass up such a rare occurrence, flipping your position again so your smaller frame sits atop his larger one. “F-fuck..” you hiss as you settle on top of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he guides your hips to keep riding him at a rough but languid pace. Alastor observes you above him for a long moment, smile widening when your hair falls in front of your bright eyes, and your hands splay across his chest to keep yourself steadily upright.
The scratches he’s left on you are still fresh, mixing with the tears that flow down your face, and your arousal pitifully dribbling down your inner thighs as well.
Exactly how he pictured you time and time again.
“You may,” he finally exhales, static completely gone from his voice, and hearing it elicits a newfound spark of heat in your core. Your legs shake involuntarily, hips stuttering in tight circles over his clothed erection as you chased your high. Alastor watches you intently, tonguing his cheek to keep from groaning, and his body running hotter than usual as your cunt drags against him.
Touch Starved Alastor can’t fathom how a soul as tender as yours can dwindle to filth in the midst of cumming. Head lulling at an angle while your back arches just right to define your silhouette in the dark room.
The coil in your stomach snaps faster than you can gauge a reaction. A scream threatening to leap from your chest as it washed over you, but his shadows return, clasping tight enough to muffle it. “Easy, my dear…you wouldn’t want to disturb the others, hm?” Alastor bucks his hips upward to make his point clear and you visibly jolt from the overstimulation he causes.
It was clear he needed his end met too and that brought a grin to your face as his shadows receded from your lips when you quieted down. “No…” you sigh, inching a hand lower to trace over the rise in his pants. Alastor stiffens under your touch, nearly snarling when you palm him slowly, eyes never leaving his as you do. Tempting and sweet as always, “Careful, Mon Cher,” he warns, voice thick with allure.
He’d only come to seek a warm body to torment, assuming he’d take care of his own needs later, but you -the ever so caring sinner you were- seemed intent to shoulder the task now.
You licked your lips, tongue grazing your fangs as your peered down at him defiantly with a warm smile, “M’ not one of your little puppets…” Alastor raised a brow at that, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward, “….and I never will be.” You finish your statement, smiling wider before lowering yourself down his body. He lets you do as you please, stuck between observing, and enjoying the attention you give him.
It’s very rare to see the overload so willing to be tested, but you made your stance clear with a singular lick up his clothed length with the softest smile on your lips. “Fuck…” he groans then, static nonexistent again as you playfully repeated the action until he became agitated enough to fist a handful of your hair and drag you back up to face him.
“It’s not very polite to tease, sweetheart.”
You smirk and reach for his belt, skillfully undoing it without breaking eye contact, feigning humility through half lidded eyes“Then would you be so kind as to correct my manners then?”
“It’d be my pleasure, darling,”
xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxx
My head was all over the place with this one ❤️ I need some sleep…
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
He’s a literal walking red flag 🚩 and unfortunately my favorite color is red 😭 Credits to the creator 🖤
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"Stuck in a Trap."
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𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : deer!Alastor x human!Reader
𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 : reader finds herself wandering the woods alone and falls upon a wounded stag stuck in a bear trap.
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨 : deer Alastor, human reader, marked, soulmate trope in a way
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 1.3k
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It was a cool night in spring. Nice enough to take a walk outside. You had decided to chose a descent into the woods behind your house. It wasn't dangerous or anything, had a nice gravel path. A few miles into it became an attraction to some tourists. Those who were into the whole haunting thing.
The most you heard were some silly ghost stories. What nonsense, you thought. Some believed there was a portal straight to Hell sitting in the thicket somewhere. Some believed there have victims from past murders buried in there. You weren't exactly into paranormal shit, you've lived and roamed these woods for years now.
No, the closest you have seen were the crazy amounts of dead deer lying on the floor. Hunters perhaps? Maybe mountain lions? Nah. The state of the deer made you feel bad, queezy more like. The poaching of the animals was upsetting to say the least. Whenever you went on these walks, you made sure to break whatever traps you could find. More often than not, all being bear traps. It was illegal in this area after all. Nobody really enforces the law around here considering how scared everyone was with this place.
You had been walking for what felt like a few hours. Your cue being the red and pink sky to head home. Oh but it just feels so right to be there. It wasn't until you heard a loud animal like cry that you stopped in your tracks. You bet it was a deer caught in a trap. What were you thinking following a scary sound like this. This kinda thing should only happen in scary movies.
After a few minutes of wandering around for the source of the sound, the creature in question comes in to view. It was a stag. What a divine animal this was. It was a lot larger than most deer, the biggest set of antlers you had seen. And it's color was dazzling. It was as if it reflected the crimson sky above it. There was no way that it was it's natural color.
Inching closer to it, the reason of it's cry came to your attention. A hoof was caught in a bear trap like you originally thought. Blood dripped from it's ankle, in attempt to soothe it, he licked it. Blood staining around it's mouth. Looks like he'd been there for quite some time.
Bending down to the ground, you hold up your hands hoping the creature would realize you were going to try and release it. All he did was bellow in hopes to scare you away. But you just stared in amazement. Your hand just inches away from the trap, the stag notices and understands your actions. Staying still for a few seconds.
His hoof finally free, you put the bloodied old bear trap in your bag. The beautiful creature bows his head slightly, one of his front hooves folding beneath him, obviously showing a little gratitude. You bent down to meet his gaze, returning the unusual human-like gesture. You didn't really think about it too hard.
Your hand reached out to him, in hopes he'll accept your advances. The stags ears laid back against his head as he pressed his forehead into yours. He backed away slightly, giving the entirety of your forearm a well deserved lick before bounding back into the thicket of the woods.
What a strange interaction. Something you surely won't ever forget whether you liked it or not. Upon looking down, you notice a green glow surrounding the area the creature marked. Looked like it was making out a subtle A-like symbol. Well time to proceed home and wash off.
A few years had gone by and the mark still remained on your arm. After many specialist appointments and surgeries, the doctors were just as stumped as you were. It wasn't a tattoo of any kind, no ink was found in the skin. It wasn't skin cancer. And crazy as it is, after several biopsies the mark simply grew over the scar tissue. It was a complete mystery as to what that mark was. And if you told everyone where you truly got it, they would all think you were nuts.
If that wasn't enough, you often felt prying eyes around your secluded house. The paranormal stories were beginning to sound sane after all the experiences you had. There have been many nights where the stereo would turn on by itself or static would just be heard. Or nights when a dark yet comforting shadow would loom over you as you slept. You eventually became accustomed to these intrusions. Most would have moved out by now.
Whatever was here was like a dark guardian angel. You weren't thinking about the holy ones whom would just, look after you, wish you the best of luck and bring you to heaven when you died. No. This one was different. The type to personally interfere with human affairs to keep you safe. The idea wasn't too off-putting considering you had done been in two severe car accidents and a tornado; somehow leaving all situations unscathed.
More often than not, you would have dreams about the stag you had found in the woods all those years ago. Talking about how you belonged to him. How you live under his protection. He had a name too but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. His voice was really unique and drew you in like a magnet. The dreams you've received were so surreal. Like you've known him all your life.
If this was paranormal, you were going to do some digging. The term typically refers to the dead, right? The town library should have records of your property and the folks who lived there before you.
It thankfully didn't take much to get the information you were looking for. There were several newspaper articles from the 1930's that included details of a man named Alastor. Alastor.. that was the name you heard in your dream. It explained the mark on your arm.
He was a local serial killer who targeted those who were for the most part ill intentioned. Especially toward women. He was found dead in the woods behind your house, burying one of his victims. Mistakened for an animal. Which is why to this day hunting is illegal in those set of woods.
More newspaper articles opened up about his profession. Despite the mans.. er.. hobbies, he was quite the talent as a radio host back in the 20's. Youtube even had some of the old audio recordings. Your heart soared upon hearing his voice. This was him. The stag you saved, the shadows watching over you, and the voice that whispered to you in your dreams.
What didn't make sense was.. why was he a stag of all things? Why did it feel real? Well, as it turns out, the power of the human soul varies in the afterlife. Some could just interact with inanimate objects while others can only muster a sound whether it be naturally or through something called a spirit box. Then, what was Alastor?
Ultimately, you had fallen in love with Alastor. Over the course of your life, you had gotten to know him from your sweet dreams. He often thanked you for your kindness. Never had he met someone that put his faith back into humanity. Who would show such a lowly animal mercy and generosity? And the day that you arrive in Hell, he'll be there to catch you and say.
"The name is Alastor, the radio demon. A pleasure to be finally meeting you properly. Welcome home, ma chère."
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a/n: i would just like to say that none of the pictures are mine, creds to the amazing artists 🎨
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radiorumble · 2 months
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Sketches all inspired by Part 5 from @ioniiaa's fanfic "My Darling, My Honey"
I drew my own oc but tried to keep her generic for the y/n vibe, I love a good fic about knowing Alastor during life, reuniting in Hell after going through Hell sounds lovely.
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nanami1chu · 2 months
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I found this in my old IG account, thought I’ll share :)
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