#Alastor shredded it before the others could see

[allastoredeer]

I love the Platonic Pentagram!

Sounds like the start of a fun joke. Four Overlords and the King of Hell walk into a hotel...

Vox would literally die. LMAO. Bro took 4 Ls at once and cannot comprehend what their dynamic is.

Frankly, neither can Alastor, but he's pleased with the results none-the-less. Just a lovely group marriage of mutual companionship. Living the dream.

They'd all probably get together regularly for tea and card games.

VOX WASN'T INVITED TO THE PLATONIC PENTAGRAM AND HE'S SO MAD ABOUT IT. Boi cannot stop taking L's.

Alastor is having a good time. He's got his fellow oldie Zestial, his bestie Rosie, his coworker Carmilla who he's not especially close with, but she doesn't tolerate other peoples shit and he respects that, and his banter buddy Lucifer who he constantly throws hands with. It's just a fun time all around.

He is living his best afterlife.

[a-hazbin-reader]

A Alastor x wife!reader where reader has been wanting a family and finally by some miracle she discovers she's pregnant

Just a thought 🫠

You are not even the third person to ask for this and we're all already delusional here soooooo-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Sadness, Reader has baby fever and spreads it to her husband unintentionally, A little angst, Implied baby making 😉

Description: 👆⬆️

Alastor would do anything for his wife, spare no expense for her happiness and it shows

You two have talked previously about your obvious desire for a family with him

He would be willing to give that to you even though he's admittedly not the biggest fan of the idea

Part of him is scared of being a father but he won't ever admit that

You two both knew that sinners couldn't reproduce, and it crushed you that the opportunity was taken from you

You were still happy to have your husband and your found family at the hotel

You just still had that desire to have a baby, your husband's baby to be exact

Alastor hates seeing you so hurt over this, he wants to fix things for you, but this is out of his control

He couldn't give you a baby no matter how hard he tried, and that makes him feel helpless, which makes him angry

Sometimes the longing for a baby and the despair of knowing you can't have one gets to be too much for you and you unintentionally draw into yourself

Not amount of hugging or soothing words from your husband can console you, no matter how hard you cling to him and seek his comfort

You're just so sad sometimes

Which leads to Alastor being frosty and agitated with the others around the hotel, upset that he can't just fix it

He would give you the biggest family if he could, whatever he could do to make you feel whole

It's not like you two are neglecting each other or growing apart, there's just this heavy feeling hanging between you two

Everyone knows something is up with you two, but nobody is brave enough to ask, except maybe Vaggie, but she's respecting your privacy as a couple

Of course, it's Charlie who tries to get to the bottom of things for the two of you, everyone is just worried you two are fighting

So when you finally relent and tell her the truth, she's relieved that you and Alastor only want to have a baby-

YOU AND ALASTOR WANT TO HAVE A BABY!?

Sinners can't reproduce so you're just riding out your baby fever until it's manageable again

But no sinner has had a friend in the Morningstar family before

Not even a day later Alastor is greeted by Lucifer while you're out with Charlie and the others

"Hey man, heard you wanted me to get your wife pregnant! Lucky for you, I happen to have a thing for married women~"

When you come back home you're surprised to see Lucifer and your husband talking amicably, both turning their heads towards you immediately

"Ah! Would you look at the time? I should really get going, things to do, ducks to make-what?"

Lucifer gives you an unexpected side hug on his way out, hand resting momentarily on your stomach before leaving

You rub where he touched, surprised by the sudden warmth that lingers there

Your husband is looking at you strangely too but kisses you in greeting before you can even question it

Alastor acts rather clingy the rest of the day, following you around, asking you how you're feeling, giving affection more freely

You can't deny that you're loving the attention and soaking up every bit of it, the warmth in your stomach having spread throughout your entire body now

If Alastor's sudden neediness is anything to go by, he's feeling the same as you are

How either of you manage to wait until everyone has gone to bed to indulge in each other is beyond you

The entire night is a blur but when you wake up the entire bed has nearly been torn apart

Feathers are all over the place, the blankets have all been kicked away or shredded, the bed frame is clawed and cracked

You would almost feel embarrassed, but when you look at your handiwork on your husband, you can't help but feel proud

Things mostly go back to normal after that, except Lucifer visits more often and seems to pay special attention to you

You feel like everyone is watching you lately and you don't know why, you're never alone anymore, your husband especially is very hovery

But it ends up working out in your favor because one day you wake up, overwhelmed by the urge to vomit, your husband holding back your hair

And it keeps happening for days on end, and you start gaining weight without explanation, and your cravings are suddenly intense and-

Your husband is looking a little too pleased with himself, rubbing your back soothingly as you poke at your mysteriously changing body in the mirror

"You did this to me somehow, didn't you!"

"Why honey, why would I need to babytrap you when we're already married?"

"Because you-what?"

It takes a few moments to register what he said, all the strange things in the last few months clicking into place

"You got me pregnant..?"

He actually starts to look a little embarrassed, suddenly unsure if he really did the right thing after all-

When did he end up on the bed?

Is definitely sure in his decision later when he exits the bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes while he leaves you sleeping in bed

Luckily, the hotel has a lot of people who are willing to help out with your pregnancy because Alastor is worried he's actually in over his head

Your mood swings are more like mood hurricanes and sometimes he needs help knowing the right things to say

"Y/N, don't worry about not fitting into your own clothes, this is uh...just an opportunity to get new ones!"

"T-Thanks Vaggie..."

The cravings start to get fucking weird, Alastor genuinely repulsed by some of the things you're asking him for

"Darling, I can get you fresh meat as bloody as you want but do you really need to eat it with cake and ice cream?"

"Don't you love me..?"

He'll be back in 10 minutes

The bigger you get, the more sore and tired you are, constantly needing help around the hotel as you waddle around

"Thanks for helping me, Husk...I was getting really tired."

"Charlie, is it alright if I sit in that chair? My back is killing me.."

Alastor is scared with how vulnerable you are like this so he sticks close to you but silently appreciates the help from everyone

Even the other overlords come to see your miracle pregnancy, which doesn't help with Alastor's paranoia over how defenseless you are right now

They just want to see

As if Carmilla or Rosie would let anything happen to you anyways, Rosie loves the crap out of you and Carmilla wouldn't hurt an expecting mother

Rosie is constantly visiting and bringing baby gifts, so many that they're starting to pile up around the hotel

"Oh darling, you're practically glowing! Alastor! Have you told Y/N how radiant she is with her pregnancy?"

She wants to be Aunty Rosie so bad

Alastor genuinely admires the changes in your body, feeling pride in the thought that he did this to you

"With a little help from the big boss of-"

"You haven't left already?"

"I want to talk to my god child~ Can you stop hogging Y/N's belly for five minutes?"

"Your what now?

Alastor rubs your belly a lot, baffled by the idea that his spawn is in there and how happily you carry it

How you're so proud to be having his kid is beyond him, he knows what a wretched man he is and you still love him, take pride in him

The first time he feels the baby kick, he's a little unnerved but then you guide his hand back, smiling at him in a way that makes his heart ache for you

"Our baby wants to say hi to you..."

Okay, now his heart is melting, give your husband a kiss right now

Starts kissing and talking to your belly more after that, talking to the baby about anything and everything as if you're not even there

"Now your mother, you have no idea how lucky she is to have me as her husband~"

Confides in you late one night, about his fear of being a father and failing you and the baby

Not him having tears pinpricking in the corners of his eyes as you kiss him and reassure him

He doesn't particularly care about the gender of his child, just that you and the little spawn are okay

But if the baby is a girl, then he would like her to have his mother's name, that's all he would ask really

If the baby is a boy then he'll let you pick the name out as long as it's something fancy sounding

Does all the work when it comes to the nursery and baby proofing but has no idea what that actually entails, so you'll have to help him out

He's so proud to show you the finished look

The closer it gets to your due date, the more out of sorts and anxious he is but he tries to put on a brave face for you

He makes sure you never have to lift a finger, doing everything he can to make you comfortable and spending all his free time with you

Carmilla and her daughters all volunteer to assist in the labor, Zestial coming for the sake of tagging along

Alastor is in genuine anguish when you actually go into labor, the sound of you in pain and him being helpless to help is torture for him

Refuses to leave your side the entire time, blocking out everything else but you and encouraging you as best he can

Focuses so hard on taking care of you that he hardly notices that you've finished, surprised when Carmilla suddenly puts not one but two babies in your arms

You're visibly exhausted but seem to gain a renewed energy at the sight of your babies, looking at them in wonder before giving Alastor a tearful smile

"A boy and a girl, a miracle on top of already being miracle babies. Congratulations, Alastor."

Carmilla pats him on the shoulder before leaving, pulling Zestial and her daughters along with her

Alastor doesn't even register what she said, still dumbfounded at the sight of you cooing at two squirming infants

TWINS!? Lucifer, you sneaky son of a bi-

"Do you want to hold them, Alastor?"

"I would love nothing more, my dear..."

He definitely doesn't immediately fall in love when his babies cling to him like they'll never let go, holding his fingers in their unbelievably tiny hands

A LITTLE TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU WHO WERE BEGGING FOR THIS

[cryptidghostgirl]

-Alastor x spouse!gn!reader:

Alastor and his Spouse had been together ever since they were alive and his spouse had always been his right hand in life and death. Just giving a helping hand if Alastor needed it, watching proudly as he became a powerful overlord. But then Alastor disappeared and no one knew where he had gone to, not even his beloved spouse. After a year or so of searching and waiting for their husband to come back, they accepted that he was gone and went on to become an overlord themselves, getting some tips from Rosie here and there. After a while they became isolated, only ever going out to gossip with Rosie or attend meetings with the other overlords. And they were never really a fan of the media or technology either. Only ever listening to their husbands radio, sometimes even joining in. So they weren’t aware of their husbands return, only seeing him for the first time in 7 years at one of the meetings with the other overlords. And they were pissed.

Sorry, that was really long.. my bad :[

Also, no pressure if you don’t want to go write this <3

A/N okay one, don’t apologize. Two, this ask is awesome. Three, I hope what I’ve done with it makes you happy :)

Wrath (Alastor x Overlord!Spouse!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Tame as heck for the most part, ngl.

Word Count: 1,820

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n had never known life without Alastor. They had grown up together, shared a wild childhood in the back streets of New Orleans. Nothing can ever beat that type of love and so, when they were fifteen and terrified and he asked them on their first date, how could they say no?

One date turned into two and before either really had time to sit back and take stock of their lives, they were twenty and married. Alastor had a budding career as a radio host and Y/n found a simple joy in the life of a house-partner. Things had been happy, they had been good.

The pair had always been inseparable, attached at the hip. That first night Alastor had come home, eyes wide and suit soaked in blood? Y/n had handed him a damp towel. Even their entrance into death had been together, shot by a hunter while burying a body.

It had been a joy to watch him grow and change, to witness the way their husband built a life for them in the world of the living and nothing changed that when they entered Hell. They were his right hand, his everything. That was why it hurt so much when he disappeared one day without a trace.

Alastor had never done that before, not tell them what was going on. He'd been gone for days, weeks at a time on rare occasions, tracking some demon he was intent on killing or the like. This was different. They always talked before hand, he always made sure Y/n was safe and set up with their mutual friend Rosie for their protection. This time, there hadn't even been a note.

In tears, Y/n had wandered their way into Cannibal Town. Rosie's smile had slipped from her face upon welcoming them into the little shop she ran, quickly ushering the demon into the back room. Y/n, while they had been a right hand in their first life and this one, had never been an active part in Alastor's work. Sure, they leant a hand if he needed one, but the occasion he did was rare and most of them helping him was through making sure he had a hot meal to come home to and a loving environment to exist in. They had never had a life without him in it and refused to believe they were entering into one now.

The first weeks were rough. Y/n stayed with Rosie, in the same guest room they always did but, they barley left it. When Rosie suggested they start looking for her lost partner, Y/n had jumped up. It was a shred of hope, something to hold onto.

A year of searching went by. Rosie tried, did everything in her power to keep Y/n happy and hopeful, to keep her safe. Time is the cruelest master of all and not even Rosie could stop the doubt it brought to her friend.

"I can't do this anymore, Rose." Y/n admitted one day as they drank their coffee, "I... He's not coming back."

"You don't know that!" Rosie had insisted, grasping Y/n's hands across the table.

"We've been looking for a year. There hasn't been the slightest bit of evidence. I... I can't do it anymore. I have to move on."

And move on they did. With their husband gone, there were empty shoes to be filled among the overlords of Hell and who better to fill them than Y/n? They worked hard, training. They grew strong and it payed off at last when two and a half years after their husband's disappearance, Y/n managed to take down an overlord, officially indoctrinating them into their ranks.

The more time went on, the more feared of a figure they became. Y/n had hoped it would have been a distraction, carrying on Alastor's legacy. The loneliness ate away at them. He had always been there, and now he was suddenly gone. The more powerful they became, the more they retreated into themselves. They became a rumor, a name whispered behind closed doors.

Y/n still held out a spark of hope that one day, Alastor would return. As they hit the seven year line since his disappearance, that too fizzled out. Things were getting bad in Hell, the last extermination had been the most brutal in history. Just the other day, word had come in that Heaven wasn't even going to wait their normal year before the next one, only a meager six months. Even with Y/n's aversion to all things media, they were only a painful reminder of what they had lost, after all, they managed to hear about it. It was a big deal, and a terrifying one too.

Of course, in response to this, Carmilla had called a meeting. When Carmilla Carmine called a meeting, there wasn't an overlord in all of Hell who wasn't going to show up. It was serious, she meant buisness.

Y/n had dragged themselves out of the place that had become their home over the past seven years. One of the first things they had taught themselves how to do was to travel through shadows, the way their husband had. With a snap of their fingers, the shadows took them, spitting them back out in the waiting room of Carmilla's offices.

Looking around, Y/n caught sight of Rosie and approached their oldest friend.

"Hey, Rose." they hummed placidly.

"Oh! Y/n! What a pleasure to see you here." she smiled back, turning to face them, "I half expected you wouldn't show."

"You know me." Y/n shrugged, "I come when it's important."

"I'm worried about you." Rosie admitted after a moment, her smile faltering slightly, "You've been spotted out and about less and less."

"I'm fine, I promise." Y/n weakly reassured, "I'm drinking water and touching grass or whatever. I just... socializing isn't super my thing anymore."

"Yes but, you're putting a target on your back doing that." Rosie insisted, "People are going to start wondering, start questioning your power and authority. You should at least go rough someone up, or start a business! Establish your presence."

"Don't worry, Rose." Y/n smiled, their mouth full of razor sharp fangs, "Let 'em come. I can take care of myself now."

"That you can." she relented.

Y/n turned, surveying the room which held a handful of Hell's other top overlords. They recognized a couple, but there were a few they didn't know. They let out a sigh, eyes turning to the elevator doors as they slid open to reveal Zestial.

Y/n raised their hand, intending to wave a greeting to the oldest and most respected of their group as he entered the room, but froze. Their hand at chest level, their eyes went wide as they caught sight of a familiar shock of red hair.

"Fucking... Al?" they whispered, their arm falling to their side as they took half a step forward.

"What did you say?" Rosie asked.

It sounded like her voice was coming from somewhere underwater, the world was spinning.

"What's the matter?" Rosie asked, following the path of Y/n's gaze.

As her eyes landed on Alastor, standing clear as day at the other end of the room and casually conversing with Zestial, she gasped lightly.

"Oh my."

"I'll be back in a second, Rose." Y/n hissed through clenched teeth, their hands balled into tight fists.

With fluid, silent footfalls, they stormed across the room and came to a stop beside Alastor. The room fell silent at the sight. They all knew of the pair's story, had heard from Rosie about how long and how hard Y/n had searched for their husband. Hearing the silence, Alastor turned, his eyes locking with Y/n's.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, placing a hand gently on the top of their head, "How have you been, darling? Zestial was just telling me about what great strides you-"

Y/n harshly took his hand from their head, the strength with which they held his wrist cutting Alastor off. They took a step forward, now just an inch away from Alastor as they glared up at him. Fury coursed through their veins as he watched them in mild confusion.

"Seven years." Y/n scoffed.

Alastor made no reply, simply continuing to watch his spouse as they practically frothed at the mouth.

"Seven fucking years." they repeated, releasing the grip on his wrist.

"I'm here now."

The slap echoed through the silence like the crack of a whip. Alastor stumbled back to slightest bit, his hand raised to his cheek.

"You..." Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm themselves, "Al, where the fuck were you? How... how long have you been back?"

"A few days." he admitted.

Y/n's eyes widened as they processed the information.

"A... a few days?" they scoffed, "A few days? You know what? You didn't tell me when you left, why should I have expected you'd tell me you were back."

Y/n turned away from him, rubbing their forehead in irritation. Alastor hesitated before taking a step forward, placing a hand gently on their shoulder.

"Lov-"

"What?" Y/n spat, spinning back around to face him.

Their teeth were sharp, elongated and dripping. Tears welled in their eyes. Alastor's breath caught in his chest.

"Fucking what?!"

"Please, let me make it up to you." his voice was soft and gentle, the same one he used when they were alone together.

"I..." Y/n took another deep breath, "I don't know if you can."

Tears were streaming down their cheeks now, falling thick and fast. Their body glitched, half transformed into their full demon state and half staying as their more human public face. It pained him to see. If he had had any other choice, he would have done something different. He had never wanted to hurt them. Alastor reached out, grabbing their hands in his.

"Please, let me try."

"Why should I!" Y/n screamed back at him, pulling their hands out of his reach, "Seven years! Seven fucking years! You promised me. You promised me we'd stick together."

The grief seemed to be winning in its battle over the anger as the glitches slowed. Their teeth shrunk back to normal and their voice faded, becoming softer, weaker.

"I'll explain everything just please, please give me a chance."

Y/n sighed. Lifting their hands to their face, they pressed their palms into their eyes. They stood like that for a moment, unmoving and silent. Alastor waited, tense with anticipation. At last, they looked up at him once again, their arms falling loosely to their sides.

"Fine." they sharply stated and Alastor's smile grew, "After the meeting. You get as much time as it takes me to drink a cup of coffee. Deal?"

"Deal."

----

A/N ngl I wasn't super sure how to end this fic but I really like it and this was such a fun request to write. I love and angry reader.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

☆ Silver's Sinful Sunday ☆

Week One: Alastor

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Smut essentially, Fem Reader, Alastor has a massive breeding kink for some reason, mainly mindless rambles of a tired woman who's down bad, tentacles 👀, no use of y/n

Word Count: 466

“Fuck!” You groaned into your sheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Alastor pounded into you from behind. 

It wasn't like him to be so careless — so needy. . . But when he saw you in that pretty little dress about to leave with Angel Dust, he almost couldn't resist the urge to rip it off of you and have you right there in the lobby. 

With the way your hips naturally swayed when you walked, something within him snapped and he couldn't let you leave — not when someone else would get to see how fucking perfect you looked. 

But only he would get to see the way you looked so beautiful — so perfect — constantly coming undone beneath him as he rammed into you, whether it be in missionary or thunderous backshots that have the head of his angry cock bumping up against your cervix in a way that should be painful, but somehow it floods your body with pleasure every time. 

“Such foul language, Mon chéri.” The static voice growled in your ear, his breath growing ragged as he bit into your shoulder, his sharp teeth drawing blood that elicited a whiny moan from you, muffled by the mattress. 

He was getting close once again — you'd lost count of how many times he filled you up in just one session. You stopped being able to count after the third time. 

One tentacle slid between your open legs, rubbing against your clit while two others held your hands behind your back. 

You clenched around him so beautifully — he could only imagine your fucked out face while you milked his cock during yet another one of your orgasms. 

His thrusts grew sloppy, a tell-tale sign that he was even closer than before. . . You knew you weren't going anywhere. . . You knew the dress was not only torn to shreds, but had a sinful mix of your cum, slick, and his cum in a puddle beneath you. 

His cock twitched inside of you and you felt him cum again — it was hard not to feel it with him so deep inside you. He thrusted again, just to feel your pretty little cunt around him before he pulled out and flipped you over gently. 

“Who gets to see you like this? Hmm?” He hummed, rubbing the head of his cock against your sensitive clit. 

You were sure your brain was gonna melt if he tried to lure one more orgasm out of you. 

“You, Alastor. . . Only you!” You slurred as he towered above you, his radio dial eyes flickering with lust and compassion as he stared down at you.

His girl. 

The only soul in the universe he could be himself around. . . The only one he would want to fuck over and over again.

“Right you are, Mon chéri!” 

[greeniegirl23]

Spilled Ink!! 🔏: Alastor x Reader NSFW!

(Minors DNI! Go clean your sneakers! >:(

Mentions: NSFW/ Overstimulation/ Begging/ Alastor having Dom energy/ Fucking Stupid - Stupid Fucking)

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Honestly, you're not too sure how it even happened. One moment you were reading a book in your room until Alastor came knocking, resulting in you both getting into a fuzz about his ability to snap stuff to fruition as he pleased, so why did he need to pester you and take your very high quality, very expensive ink.

You had to remind him that you worked for a living and he even tried to intimate it out of you by informing you that his day had been very trying. You were only supposed to tell him to go to double hell and slam the door in his face, that's all!

But before you could, he tried to snatch it off of your desk, resulting in a tussle and the ink to go flying on both of your clothes. Things got blurry for a second, but you remember blinking and be sat square in his lap with his length nestled in the deepest crevices of your body.

Your back was facing his as he pressed kisses to your neck, leaving bitmarks and hickies in the junction of your shoulder. The robe you wore was drooping down, giving him room to paint your body with his affection and leaving one of your breasts exposed to the warm air of the room.

Darkness caused your senses to be dialed up to eleven. You couldn't see a thing except for the soft crimson glow of his eyes out of your peripherals. Long slender fingers snuck themselves under your robe, a hand caressed your curves before setting on your stomach to feel the small bulge that was there. He had to admit, his chest swelled with pride as he felt himself through your body. Resting peacefully and warm, just how he liked it.

The other hand cradled your head as you leaned back on him for support. Hot tears traced down your face and over his fingers; he felt so good but it wasn't enough to dismiss the burn that ached in your core.

You thanked God that he allowed you to adjust. You tried to tell him he wouldn't fit, you really did but he wouldn't listen. Instead, he hushed you with sweet nothings into your ear. Wiping your tears with something disguised as love as he breached your entrance and pushed your body past it's limits.

Even when you shrieked in discomfort, he held you by your chin and kissed your forehead. “Shhh, relax darling.” He cooed. “I said I'd take care of you and I am a man of my word, but I have to get in somehow.” He said in a sing-song like voice, half dressed and disheveled.

Your claws shredded his clothing as he pushed inch, after agonizing inch into your tight heat. Kissing away your tears until he managed to fit all of himself inside you.

That had been about five minutes ago and you could tell he was starting to get impatient. Clicks and chirps from his internal radio grew in frequency, pressing his nose into your skin to inhale your sweet scent, and shallowly bucking his hips.

The soft clicking sound from where you were intertwined made your walls pulse around him, causing him to moan softly into your ear. The initial sound was so lewd and frankly embarrassing, but your body responded to it like a beautiful symphony.

Pretty soon his hips found a steady pace within you, using his powers to restrain your hands behind your back while his own moved to grip the fat of your curves. Soft clicks turned into soft slapping, quiet moans transitioned into something straight up pornographic.

He was so fucking big to the point where your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Each nudge to your cervix made you wanna cry but you were swimming in pleasure as he brought you closer and closer to a release.

Alastor huffed and puffed in your ear, letting out genuine moans that you were deemed worthy enough to hear. Whispering and whimpering your name into his kisses, the sharpness of his claws pierced your skin in a delicious manner as he picked up the pace.

You were hugging him so tightly, pulsing around him with a vice-like grip, and giving him the most intimate of cockrings straight from the heart of your core.

It didn't take long until you were begging for mercy. Begging for him to slow down because you just couldn't take him in his entirety. Everything was too much, he was too big, you were too close! Fuck! You were gonna!-

Alastor supported your body as you convulsed almost violently against him. Even as you screamed his name, as tears fell down the apples of your cheek, he still kept his pace up. Bullying your poor pussy despite your tightness trying to force him out so you could breathe for a damn second!

“Stop resisting..” He growled, fucking you seven ways to Sunday through your sensitivity. “You can take it darlin’”

You wanted to scream, but your voice was too hoarse from earlier. “I can’t!” You stuttered out. The tip of his length was hitting your g-spot so good it made your toes curl and your eyes cross.

“Just a bit more..!” He begged, fighting his Southern drawl as you pulsed around him again. He was so close but it wasn't enough, he needed more.

In a swift motion, Alastor had pulled out and threw you on your back. Shredding off your robe into nothing but tatters of fabric, he folded your knees back to reach your ears and plunged himself back into your heat.

The bundle of nerves between your body had grown puffy, your walls had grown weary of Alastor's torment. Every thrust had him practically shifting your insides around while the bulge from before was now more prominent given the new position.

In a desperate attempt, you stuck out your hands against his stomach with your palms flat. “..Slow down!”

Needless to say that didn't work, because in five seconds flat your wrists were chained by the commanding snap of his fingers, and placed around his neck so you couldn't move them.

“Know your place little girl..” He hissed. Extremely irritated that you'd dare interrupt him, much less demand him to do anything all in the same sentence.

As punishment, he buried his face into your neck as his body grew a bit in size. Just around his pelvic area of course, sending straight jolts of pain through your body as his thrust were even more forceful than before.

“AH! M’SorryM’Sorry!!!” You quickly apologized, while tuging at the restraints. Hoping that he'd forgive you because if not, you wouldn't be walking anywhere for a very long time.

“Too late darlin..’” His body curled itself over top of your smaller one, forcing you into more of a ball and somehow sending him deeper. You screamed profanities, struggled against your restraints, and begged for his forgiveness but it was no use.

He fucked you mercilessly, the kind of sex that could make you fall in love with even your most hated enemy. A second release was coming up on you fast, as you let out all sorts of sounds through gritted teeth and Alastor got lost in his own pool of ecstasy. It was almost impressive that he was fucking both of you into stupidity.

“Keep beggin’ like that cher, n’ you'll drive a man mad..” He whispered with a thick static lacing his tone.

“Al please, I can't take it!” You cried, only for him to kiss your cheek in comfort. “S’all most over Sweetheart, it's almost over…” Slowly his hand crept down between your bodies and began to give some attention to the bundle of nerves that had been neglected for some time now.

“Alastor, wait!-” He slammed his lips against your own as you pleaded between kisses, forced to take his onslaughts because he had ceased your every way to move. It didn't take long before your orgasm hit you like a eighteen wheeler, your body locked up so badly you caught a cramp in your thigh.

Wailing against his lips, Alastor took the opportunity to fuck his last bits of strength into you before his own realese finally finally came.

His antlers sprouted high enough to scrape the ceiling, claws tore the couch stuffing in his office to mere tatters as the internal radio within him flipped through what sounded like a thousand stations all at once. His moans were intangible, thick, and distorted into a language you couldn't understand as he pumped thick ropes of his seed directly into your body. Filling you up to the point of overflowing as the buzz from the best fucking sex of your existence begin to settle in. His lips fought to stay stuck in yours, to soothe your cries as he cradled your body and muttered "I've got you cher, I'm right here." against your lips. The occasional profanity slipping out here and there from your body sucking him dry.

It took awhile for Alastor to remove himself, taking a second to observe his handiwork on your body and to also appreciate the white substance that leaked from your fountain of intimacy. Snapping away your restraints, he helped you sit up as best you could without wabbling and placed his trademark tailcoat over your shoulders, even securing it with his bowtie as he dressed himself properly.

“You can keep that for now, I'll purchase you a new robe from Rosie's sometime this week.”

In silence you sat as his finished straightening his clothes and grabbing the pen ink that he originally bothered you for in the first place.

“Don't worry about walking for the next few days, I'll have my shadows set up space for you in my room and if anyone asks I'll tell them you've come down with a fever.”

“I'm sorry.” You waved your hand in a circle. “You think you can walk into my room and pick a fight with me over ink that you could have snapped into reality by yourself, bang me like a screen door during a hurricane, and then expect me to take recovery in your chambers?!”

“Yes.” He said with a smile, cocky and condescending. “I did quite a number on you my dear, you're going to need some special attention for a while.”

“Uh, fuck you. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Really now?” He smirked, placing a hand on his hip with the sass of a middle aged woman. “Stand up and walk.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me, darling I didn't screw you daft." He raised an eyebrow and looked down on you with a dark expression, grinning big enough to split his face in two.

"Walk.."

With an irritated twitch in your eye, you shuffled to the edge of the couch and stood up, taking a cautious step forward before a strike of pain knocked on the door of your brain, resulting in you limping forward and falling before you could even hit a second step. Luckily, Alastor's lanky arms were there to catch you as you curled in on yourself from the excruciating cramps that were blossoming in your stomach.

“The fuck did you do to me?” You groaned. “Ughh, it feels like I just got hit with my cycle!"

A smarmy chuckle left his lips as he fixed you bridal style in his arms. “That would be the bruising of your cervix settling in, hence why you're going to need my care for a bit. I've got some remedies from my time up above that should aid in easing the issue.”

Hissing from his purposely uncareful movements, you fought the urge to stretch him. “You motherfucker..”

He snorted as he carried you into his room in the dark of the hotel. “I'd hardly refer to myself as such a thing, however if we do have little hellspawns, twelve would do nicely, I suppose then that name would become a more applicable title. ”

“Twelve what?! Are you insane?!"

He shrugged. "Go big or go home Darling!"

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Monstrous Broadcast (Monster!Alastor x Reader)

CW: Post Stayed Gone Monster Al, Size kink go brr, Blood, DubCon, belly bulge, broadcasting sex, cream pies, cum painting... Rating: Adult Summary: You were sent to Alastor's Broadcasting tower to tell him something just in time to catch the tail end of Stayed Gone. Alastor is in a rather unique mood and in terrifying form as he decides the best way to work his excess energy off is with you.

You were not sure how you got here. Charlie had sent you up to Alastor’s tower to tell him something. What it was, you couldn’t remember. 

Fear raced through your veins as you watched Alastor grow as he stood from his chair. Raw power crackled through his radio tower. He had set aside the microphone tipped cane he so often carried, freeing his hands as he stood. The sound of his voice carried, wrapping around you and drawing you closer and closer. 

Joints loudly cracked and popped as the monster that had once been the handsome, charming Alastor turned to look at you. Bright red radio dials looked at you, the points on the knobs ticking around and around with his heartbeat. Or was it yours? 

Black sclera surrounded the dials, so dark you thought it could swallow the universe. The stitching on his clothes stood out, bright red lit up and glowing with his lower. The usually small antlers on his head were far from that now. They extended, wide and heavy, tines scratching against the walls as he reached out to you. 

Everything about him was so much more massive. His smile stretched wide, bright red blood seeping from his lips and running down his chin. It dripped to the floor, splatters that went ignored. 

You trembled in his hand as he looked down at you. He had an imposing stature as a standard, towering over you, but now he was at least double the size. Wide eyes roamed over his shoulders, now so much broader than they had been. Everything was too wide or too long, his head hanging off a bent neck that shouldn’t have been able to support it. 

“Alastor?” You watched with wide eyes as he looked down at you, head crooked with an unnatural crack that reverberated around the room. 

“Just who I wanted to see,” Alastor said, voice more static than you had ever heard it before. 

You and Alastor were not a couple, but you also were not not a couple. There had been countless nights you passed, tucked into his side, listening to the static weave in and out of his voice. In public, you were nothing more to him than a friend at best. Over his shoulder, nearly blocked from view, was the lit up, glaring ‘on air’ sign. 

“What are you doing?” The question was hardly more than a hissed whisper as a large clawed finger hooked into your pants. 

Alastor only laughed as he pulled, the fabric biting into your lower back before the stitching gave way, ripping. Your eyes roamed over the terrifying man in front of you. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find the power, chokingly thick in the air, attractive. It was so easy to forget just how powerful your lover was. 

There was no denying it now. This was the demon who took lives as a hobby in his life. This was the man who cut down overlords that had ruled for decades as if they were nothing when he landed. This was the man that commanded respect and fear. 

Alastor’s clawed finger cut through your shirt, easily snagging and shredding your bra in the process. You were left naked, standing in front of the bank of windows that looked out over the dark Pentagram City. The only buildings lit up from inside was the hotel. 

Anyone looking in would be able to see you.

That sent excitement through your core. Alastor’s cock strained against his pants, the terrifying size only adding more excitement. With one hand wrapped around your waist, he lifted you easily off your feet. His other hand made quick work of his belt, freeing his cock.

“Alastor,” you said, this time more urgently, as he parted your legs.

“So wet for me,” static threatened to eat his words. 

Red radio dials looked at your glistening folds, betraying how attractive you found his show of dominance and power. A black tongue ran out from between needle sharp yellow teeth, running over his lips before slithering back inside the cavern of his mouth. The stitches at the sides of his smile strained, keeping his smile firmly in place while he spread your knees wider, pushing your legs up and out. 

“The show is far from over, folks,” Alastor said.

“It’s not going to fit,” you whined as the massive head of his cock, more the size of a fist, ran between your folds, probing at your unprepped entrance. 

“Don’t worry,” Alastor said, cheery as the sound of excited cheering burst through the static, “We’e already dead.” 

“What does that mean?” you whimpered as his hand stroked the length of him. His shaft was as thick as your forearm. 

“It means,” Alastor’s cock pressed into your weeping opening, bulling the muscle to widen. “That I will make you take my cock, even if I have to break you.” 

Burning pressure spread from your core as he forced you wider and wider. Pain and pleasure danced as he slowly sank deeper, not even an inch deeper. You could feel his cock pressing against bone as he spread your opening as wide as it felt like your pelvis could accommodate. 

He thrust ever so slightly as the head of his massive cock pushed deeper and deeper, each withdraw spreading your slick over him. You panted and groaned, body trembling as he slowly forced you to take him deeper and deeper. 

Burning pain had your back arching, breasts displayed to him. Wetness seeped out of you, running down the swell of your as. Alastor’s smile and the pain told it you was blood. 

You screamed as the head of his cock popped past your opening your, hole snapping tightly down around his shaft. Pleas of mercy dropped from your lips as you begged him to shrink down, to return to the lover you knew so well. 

Alastor did not relent. Instead, as he pushed deeper and deeper, each slight withdraw followed by a push deeper and deeper. It felt like he was everywhere inside you as he filled you. 

A new pain came to life as his head nudged against your cervix. Tears ran down your eyes as he pulled back, only half his length fitting into you. Static covered praises fell from his bloody grin as you bounced with the force of every thrust. 

The on air sign still was lit behind Alastor. Each of your whimpers, each begging plea, was being broadcast across the city and perhaps further. You didn’t know how wide Alastor’s reach actually was. 

It felt like he was ripping you in two, reach measured thrust of his massive cock splitting you apart. It hurt, but fuck, it felt good. Pain and pleasure mixed as Alastor’s monstrous form hovered above you. Black blood dripped onto the broadcast desk, soaking between buttons and dials. It splattered onto your side, cooling as he worked in and out of you.

Around the city and beyond, perhaps all throughout hell, the sound of your gasping breaths and whimpered pleas, the sound of Alastor’s snarls through the static shifted, tone changing as different effects and overlays were applied, shifting and changing. 

“To big,” you cried as he pressed into you, thrusting his cock into your cervix, pushing you higher up the panel as your body refused to yeld more space to his cock. You were already straining and failing to accommodate his size. Blood trickled down from your core, lubricating his cock more and more while your body painted his desk with it. 

A clawed hand grabbed your shoulder while he looked down at you with small red glowing dials. His face was nothing more than sharp. The teeth, the eyes, the smile- it was all sharp and dangerous, just like the pain that racked through you as his fingers gripped your shoulders. Claw tipped fingers bit into your shoulder as his smile cut somehow wider. 

“I can’t,” you whimpered. Your legs fell open wider as you tried anything to make more room for him. The blunt head of his cock pressed into your cervix more and more. “Please, Alastor, I can’t.” 

“You’re so wet for me, Cher.” Alastor’s static voice growled out, smile not moving as his voice seemed to come from all around her. “You can take it.” 

“I can’t,” tears ran down your face as he pulled back, cock slipping as he backed out of your opening inch by inch. The shaft his cock drug against your sensitive clit, folds spread and stretched to the point of ripping. “Fuck, Alastor. Please, I just- it’s too much, too much.” 

“You can,” Alastor promised, abdomen tensing as blood dripped from his chin onto your abdomen, “And you will.” 

The dark promise was the only warning you had. His body flexed, curling in on you as he thrust forward. His shaft ran over your clit, a blinding pleasure even as it felt like he had ripped your insides apart, forcing them to accommodate him. The scream that ripped from your throat echoed through all of hell. 

Your claws, nothing near as impressive as Alastor’s, dug into his arms as you clung to him. Tremors ran through your body, a convulsion of muscle triggered by pain and adrenaline. Pleasure tainted it all as his cock slid over the bundle of nerves, teasing her clit. 

Wide pain-filled eyes looked up at the black void of Alastors. Your lover had always been gentle with you, until now, even at his most demanding. His hips rutted against you, grinding the fur at the base of his cock against your clit, sparking more pleasure through the pain. 

“Look at you,” Alastor’s voice came from all around as he enjoyed the view. “Look how your stretches.” 

His hand caressed down your naked chest, claws scratching over the pebbled buds of your nipples as he made his way down, palm pushing against the swell of the head of his cock, straining out against your insides.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, running your hand down after his, feeling him from the outside of you. “Alastor,” 

“That’s right, cher,” Alastor groaned, “That’s me, so deep inside you.” 

Each twitch of his cock lodged deep inside you stirred your guts. He ground his hips against your clit, sparking a pleasure that seemed only to be amplified by the pain racking through your body. 

“Tell me it doesn’t feel good,” Alastor growled out, pulling back a few inches only to thrust into you again, clint dragging against his cock, forcing your back to arch. Your breath gasped, pleasure winning out over pain as you ran your hands up his arms in a pathetic attempt to hold the monster that your lover had become. 

“Please,” tears ran down your eyes as your legs relaxed, seeking more of the poisoned pleasure his thrusts gave you, “Fuck, please, Alastor. More. Move. Fuck, do something.” 

The whole of hell heard the moment you had given up, surrendering to the Radio Demon. Gasping moans of pain morphed into that of pleasure as he thrust his cock in and out of you. Each shallow stroke became deeper and deeper. Blood smeared under you, a testament to the ruined state of your insides as he fucked you with full, deep strokes. 

Tears ran down your face, soaking into your hair as each long thrust of his cock hit harshly, bodies slapping together. Your breasts bounced, nipples dancing in front of his glowing face as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Going to cum?” he asked, laughing at the way your stomach distended with every thrust. 

“Fuck, yes.” You whined as his cock brushed your clit again and again, pace quick and never letting up on the stimulation. 

He swelled inside you, somehow able to push your organs aside to make room for his size. Each twitch of his cock felt violent and yet you thrived on it, basking in the poisoned pleasure. 

The coil inside you did not snap, nor did you step over the edge. It wasn’t a soft push. He didn’t even throw you over. No, when you came, it was something unlike anything you had ever experienced before. 

Your world shattered. The coil was little more than shards of shrapnel, adding to the mix of pain and pleasure. The edge seemed to disintegrate under your feet, becoming no more. Muscle ripped with the force of the convulsions that ran through your body. 

His name was a shriek, blowing out speakers throughout hell as your body clamped down on his cock. The thrusts into you were brutal now, stinging pain blooming from where his hips slammed into wet skin. 

Alastor’s static rose, becoming a feeling in the air and less a sound as he held you steady, chasing his own release. Your fingers dug into his coat, trying so hard to ground yourself as you struggled to pull breath after breath into your lungs. 

He came with explosive force, wedging himself deeper and deeper into your opening as he pumped violent spurts of his seed into you. You could feel it as he painted your guts white and then he kept going, thrusting into you as more and more waves of seed was deposited into you. 

He came still, even as he pulled out, fist wrapping around his twitching cock. Long, hot ropes of cum spurted from him as he thrust into his working first, shooting out onto you. As his seed gushed from your twitching hole, a mix of white stained with ribbons of red, he painted your stomach.

Ropes decorated your breasts, coating your nipple. He moaned, shoving seed back into you with claw tipped fingers as he fucked his hand. Ropes landed on your neck as you gasped, only to have hot cum land on your face.

The salty taste of him invaded your mouth as his fingers finally left you. Seed soaked into your hair as you lay, twitching, bleeding, leaking and gasping for breath. 

Only once his cock stopped shooting hot ropes onto your spent body did Alastor’s form recede, changing from the monster that had taken you with such violence to the man you had known. All the while, you lay soaked from the inside out in his seed. 

Alastor stood, looking down at the result of his work. Jagged breaths racked through your body as you struggled to focus your eyes on him. You had sounded good, broadcast throughout hell. A truly lovely encore to his performance with that TV dimwit. 

Better yet, you looked more beautiful to him now, body spent, broken and wrecked, leaking blood and his seed onto the broadcasting equipment that was his pride. 

Oh yes, you looked good like this indeed. He would have to repeat this broadcast, perhaps make it a reoccurring special. Not too often, though. Even with your demonic abilities, you would need time to heal all the tissues he had torn. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[frostedclock-writes]

Crimson Magnolias (pt2)

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Alastor x F!Reader

Warnings: R rated themes, Hanahaki disease, one-sided romance, ace Alastor, female reader

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Part 1 Here

Part 3 here

Jazz.

You watched Alastor from the bar for a moment. He moved across the dance floor like God had made it for him. His large smile made your heart flutter, and you could see his brown curls sticking to his forehead in some places from the sweat gathered on his brow. You make a small sigh and stare just a few moments longer before you finally heard Mimzy's voice break through your thoughts.

" Ya got it bad don't ya~" Mimzy's smile was playful and she wiggled her eyebrows. The blonde woman took a drink of her own coffin varnish and slammed the cup upside down. " Just tell him. "

You tense up and make a laugh. " Don't be silly Mimz." You swirl the liquid courage around in your cup. It never helps. Just makes you clam up more.

She pushes a pudgy finger against your chest and taps. " Ya can't keep holdin' it in, doll, ya at least got ta let him know how ya feel. It's eatin' you up! Just watch, you gonna drop dead one of these times. " She tutted.

You frown and huff. " You don't know anything, Mimz, you don't know him like I know him.... " You let your gaze go back out to Alastor with some stick of a girl with a big smile on her lips. Though you know he wasn't thinking beyond the dance itself, the entertainment of it all. She would bore him before the second song and he would move on.

But it still made your heart twist.

At least like this .... He comes back to you.

You sink your teeth into a biscuit. Flakey. Somehow buttery. You make a small hum of content as you enjoy the small snack. And Alastor's cooking, no less. You pick up your cup as you both sit out on the balcony. Alastor had one leg crossed over the other and he held his cup in one hand, and a fork with a few last shreds of meat he had left in it. He made a circle motion with the fork and his grin stretched. Those red ears flicked a little before he spoke.

" You could work here at the Hotel," he shifted proudly " I am in charge of staff since I came here and we could always use one more hand. "

You nearly choked on the last swallow of biscuit you were attempting to enjoy. You hold your hand over your chest and make a few coughs. " What?"

He tutted and took the bite he had been playing with. " You spoke of not having steady work, I don't see why you would be opposed. "

You grabbed your cup and took a long sip. It cleared the buttery clumps from your throat. " I'm not! " You quickly tell him and set your cup down. " It's just... "

" Think nothing of it! " He waved his hand and then took a hold of his own cup.

Being around him. All the time, technically living beneath the same roof. You felt like you were going to start to choke again.

You pause and hear whirling of cogs and steam. What in sweet Lucifer's hell? You glance over towards the noise just as a spinning middle blows a hole in the wall right next to where you and Alastor were enjoying a breakfast. Sir Pentious . You remembered the snake man, he often attacked Alastor out of the blue and notoriously was bad at it. Boring. He was boring with his tactics.

You think he was talking now?

" Who are you?" Alastor asked, simply taking another drink of his coffee.

" Alastor, that Pentious... That snake man?"

He looked over at you and tilted his head, his ear flicked a couple of times. " A what?"

" He's attacked you. Like almost every year for the past eighty years?" You raise an eyebrow.

" We've done battle, like a lot?" Sir Pentious could be heard through the speaker system of his airship as it floated not so menacingly above the hotel.

" I don't remember him in the slightest. " He got up and dusted himself off.

He offered out his hand, you take it without hesitation. It was still dizzying when you rematerialized in front of the hole in the wall, which seemed to lead straight into the bar. You glance inside to make sure Husk was still alright. The bartender was picking himself up along with the half split bottle in his hand. You go over and help him up out of the dust and knock a few pieces of the drywall off his shoulder.

" You okay, Hun? " You chuckled.

He shrugged off your help but made a grunt. " I'm fine, that wall just seems to like to take a pounding. " Husk grumbled.

" Well at least your fine. Though seems like the bar needs a bit more cleaning. "

He looked at you for a moment then shrugged. " Eh, you shouldn't worry 'bout me. "

" Someone has to right?" You bump your shoulder against his.

You smile gently and glance back over your shoulder to see shadow tendrils erupting and encasing the airship and crushing it like it was a toy, the serpent himself was being pulverized and tossed about the landed hard in front of Alastor and the gathered residents of the hotel. You step over some of the rubble to get back outside.

A rip of fabric made you wince and look away as Sir Pentious was sent flying across the Pentagram.

Alastor spun on his hoofs and turned back to everyone with that large smile back on his lips. " Seems as if I need to cut our visit short, Y/N , though do take my offer to heart. But it seems as if I need a trip to the tailors. "

" Oh, sure. Nothing to fret over. "

" Perfect! Until then, my dear!" He went to leave.

" Hey! You have to stay and help fix this shit!" The silver haired woman with a ribbon in her hair spoke up.

" Oh yes, my apologies, can't let my project fall into disarray. What would the papers say?" Alastor made a chuckle at his own joke and snapped his fingers. The little minions formed from the shadows and looked ready for construction work. " They will take care of it!"

And with that he twirled his microphone and then started off in the direction of town. You make a small sigh and you could feel eyes on you. You felt a shiver run down your spine, and shake your head gently. You turn for a moment and look at the hotel then, as you were about to start to walk, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

" Hello! I don't think we've properly met!" A large smile and big eyes like a puppy dog. Ah, this must be Charlie. " A friend of Alastor's? That is so exciting!"

" Ah yes wel-"

" And you look normal. Which is surprising." The silver haired woman walked over and put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. Which must have been a sign for the tall young woman to let go of you. " I'm Vaggie, by the way."

" I'm Charlie, and it is so nice to meet you! Will you be coming around more? "

" Oh, I don't know... Maybe , and I'm Y/N. A pleasure. "

Charlie wore a crisp red suit that vaguely smelled of cinnamon and she shook your hand with a bit of vigor that your hadn't been expecting. When she let you go again she put her arms around Vaggies shoulder. Vaggie placed a hand over the one resting on her shoulder and they leaned into one another. Oh.

" You might see me around more. Alastor offered me a job here. I hope that isn't... Well I hope it doesn't step on any toes." You make a small laugh.

Charlie looked down at Vaggie for a moment then back at you. Then she made a smile and shook her head. " Nothing of the sort. I asked him to help me with this place and he already has a whole lot! We could always use another hand around here. "

You hear the nasaly tone from the other day behind you. " Hey! It's you. Hey there~ so you weren't jokin' you and strawberry thin huh~ "

You felt your whole body tense up. " O-oh well"

" Angel! Don't be rude." Charlie spoke up and puffed her cheeks out.

" Aw, I'm just askin' she came all huffin and puffin looking for her prince cannibal last time. No one comes runnin' across the town for just anyone. "

You felt the heat rising to your face. " No ! Well uh, hey woah, look at the time! I have to go..... Check on... My oven! Yes I have a roast. " You start backing up.

Angel Dust wiggled their eyebrows. " Mmm hmm sure, toots. " When he earned a hard look from Vaggie he shrugged his shoulders and put his other set of hands on his hips. " What? If she ain't fucking the creep, she wants ta."

You turn on your heels and quickly walk down the cobblestone path. You cover your mouth, the coughs held in as you could hear the pornstar getting chastised in the distance. The taste of ginger was acrid. Magnolias. You used to think they were beautiful in the spring. Their soft petals marred and clumped with bile and blood.

You kept the petals in your mouth until you rounded the corner outside the gate of the Hotel grounds.

You spit the petals out on the sidewalk. The splatter of blood would be a forgotten stain to join the rest in the streets of hell. The petals already sliding between your feet and lost in the breeze of passing cars. You take a few breaths. You wipe the corners of your mouth with a bit of a tattered handkerchief you kept with you. Stained from years of abuse.

You needed to get something to drink.

Home was empty as you clicked your lights on. No sound except for the buzzing of the iridescent light bulb you used. You walk to your kitchen after flicking on your old t.v, some rerun of some hell-a-novella was playing. Just something to distract you. Radio would just make you want to...

You clear your throat and run the water into the kettle.

Just don't think about it.

Boil water.

Steep tea.

Work at the hotel. Could you even take it?

You would see him back behind his radio broadcast equipment, all lounged and in his element. Get to drink with him again like you used to, see him tap his foot with his eyes closed as he listened to the jazz playing on his radio. Maybe you could finally muster up the courage to...

No.

He would never look at you the same.

You dropped your glass after taking a drink of tea. You cover your mouth and rush to the sink. The tea came up with the swirl of red and a few petals that clog the drain. You hack a few times and the splatter of blood against the ceramic of the sink made your stomach chur. You grip the edge of the counter and your whole body shook.

When your throat finally stopped burning you heard the channel flick in the living room. You swallowed hard and wiped your mouth off. You took out another glass and filled it before you made your way back into the living room. You took a small drink and you looked at the screen.

Vox. Man he had changed since you last saw him.

You take another drink of tea and take a breath, you grab the remote and then the volume up, seeing breaking news flash across the screen. Must be important if Vox was doing the broadcast himself. You almost choked on your tea again as a crude drawing of Alastor popped up.

Maybe you should switch to cold drinks.

You had to turn off the T.V. as the broadcast became a bunch of insults thrown at Alastor. You ended up having to unplug it to get Vox off of your screen. You shook your head. If there was someone else in hell that understood feelings - romantic or otherwise- towards Alastor and them never really going away no matter how much time has passed.... It was Vox, sadly enough.

Vox and Alastor used to be good friends. You remember him coming around a lot in the fifties and sixties. Vox was ambitious, hard working and just a bit sly in his dealings. But to get where he is now, he had to be. But you also remember him sitting for hours and talking about sharks, like they were just the greatest thing to roam the planet. He and Alastor would sit and talk about the future of hell, and what they wanted out of their afterlife.

Then that day came and you never saw Vox again.

He got an upgrade and a new business partner, and he never came around again.

You took a drink from your cup of tea and pulled a book over into your lap. The Picture of Dorian Grey. You sigh and try to focus on the words of the well worn novel but cannot keep focused. The words were just blurring together, and your throat kept scratching. You couldn't even get past the first page before you had the book closed again.

Perhaps a walk would clear your head.

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Taglist: @boldlyenchantingfox22 @sirens-and-moonflowers @kerosene--lamp @girl-nahh-two @phoephan-123

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Reader who wears blue clothing on purpose to piss of Alastor? SEE MY VISION WOMAN

NSFW cw: fingering. (below the cut)

You open your wardrobe for the day and smirk. Donning a blue dress you saunter out of your room and down to breakfast.

As you sit at the table and greet eveyone Alastor notibly is silent... His eye twitches.

You smirk to yourself and start eating your breakfast, chatting amiably to the others around you. Hyperaware of Alastor's seething presence.

You finish up breakfast and go to head back to your room to grab your bag, planning to take a trip out to Cannibal Town.

Your door slams shut behind you making you jump, but when you feel fingers ghost up your spine you shiver knowing what's coming as you bite your lip.

Alastor: "What did I tell you about wearing anything the remotely resembles anything to do with that blasted Picture Box, that could be associated with him having a hold over you?"

You smile to yourself, before turning to face him, an arrogant look on your face.

You: "That you would teach me exactly who actually has a hold over me."

Alastor: "Precisely."

His looming presence bullies you back and you gasp as his shadow shreds the straps of the garment and you whine as Alastor pushes you down on the bed, bearing down on you.

Alastor's mouth is punishing as he kisses you hard. His hands busy dismantling your clothing piece by piece the room filled with the sound of tearing fabric, he tweaks your pebble nipples making you whimper at the sting.

You gasp as you find yourself bare and slick with need, his fingers pressing into you hastily, driving you mad with his brutal treatment.

They pry you open, stretching you and rubbing your walls just right, moaning and bucking your hips as you feel Alastor's bulge pressing into your twitching thigh muscle.

Your hands get bound over your head as you reach for his waistband and you whine, arching your back as the torturous strokes of his fingers inside your puffy walls feels like everything you could ever need.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you chant his name, back aching as you press your hips down, making his fingers slide in even deeper... Before... Emptiness.

Blinking back tears as you cry out at Alastor's withdrawal his sardonic smile taunts you as you moan at the sight of him licking your essence from his fingers.

Alastor: "Remember this Dear one, you are mine, and bad pets don't get rewarded."

His tentacles release you and Alastor saunters off whilst you almost beg for mercy, the urge to chase after him naked powerful, but you don't, knowing it'll do no good.

Also knowing he will know if you make yourself cum and you'll be punished further, so you refrain your shaking hand from delving greedily to your throbbing needy core.

With a temper you stomp across your room fling open the wardrobe door and pull out a burgundy blouse and skirt.

Dressing and sorting your hair out before hastily trying to find Alastor to earn a reward the 'correct' way.

[bunniesanddeer]

Hiiiii! I was wondering if I could request a fic with a sick reader? I'm currently sick with the flu and am looking for a bit of comfort :(

Hi! I am sorry for taking a bit to respond. Needed some sleep after work. I wasn't sure if this is exactly what you wanted, so I am sorry if it isn't. This is just some minor fluff from the perspective of Alastor.

Sick

Pairing: Alastor X Sick!Reader

Tags: Sick reader, fluff, minor angst, allusions to sickness and Alastor's past.

Word Count: 1,048

Alastor did not like when people got sick. He did not like seeing their snotty faces, or listening to their fevered rambles. He did not like getting sick, either. The Radio Demon hated it. It reminded him of being a weak child, and it was something he actively avoided. In order to do so, he avoided sick sinners, giving them an even wider berth than the average sinner. That is, until you got sick.

It had been a normal morning up until Charlie spoke up. 

Charlie had called your name as the group made their way to the dining room. Alastor had been setting the final platters down. They were heaped full of pancakes, and waffles, something you had requested recently. He looked up from the table, making eye-contact with a confused Charlie.

“That’s weird,” she said. “Normally they’re up pretty early. Has anyone seen them?” Charlie looked at the group, and got shakes of their heads in response. 

Yes, that was odd. Normally, by this time, you were up and following Alastor around the kitchen. He rarely let you help, but you always sat in the kitchen with him. Sometimes you would ask him silly questions about his life, and sometimes you would sit, sipping your drink, and listening to whatever music he played. 

Alastor realized that it had been quiet all morning. (Something in him twinged. He had completely forgotten about your morning ritual! How rude). “Well, my dear! You get everyone settled in for breakfast. I’ll go see if they have merely lollygagged in bed too long!”

Charlie thanked him with a smile and a thumbs up. He didn’t respond, merely making his way past her and towards the stairs.

When he finally got to your room, he knocked on your door with a flourish. Alastor’s ears twitched as he listened intently. Nothing. There was only silence on the other end. He knocked again. Still nothing. With a sigh, and a mild form of discomfort, (one did not just barge into another’s sleeping space!), he opened the door, and let himself inside.

The room was quite dark. The curtains were pulled tight across the window, and the room had a musty smell to it. Something made Alastor feel the slightest bit skittish. Hmm.

There, on the bed, was a lump swallowed by blankets. He rolled his eyes. Ah! You were merely avoiding the day. With little sympathy, Alastor ripped back the blanket, to be met with the sight of you curled into the fetal position, eyes barely blinking open.

“Al?” Your voice was rough, and nasally. “Wa’s goin’ on?”

Your eyes had crusts at the corner, and your face was flushed. Your hands twitched, and your breath seemed to whistle just the slightest.

Gross. Alastor was immediately on guard. He did not want to get sick. He wanted out of this room.

But the sight of your exhausted face, made him think twice. He pondered over the situation for a moment, before gently putting the blanket back on the bed, gently tucking you in.

“I will be right back, dear. I am just going to go get some water and a thermometer,” Alastor said, taking off from the room before you could respond. His hands itched. If he was being honest, the drive to send someone else to take care of you was definitely there, but… You were ever so sweet on him. He couldn’t understand why, but he wasn’t about to repay that shred of kindness by abandoning you.

Alastor made his way to the kitchen, and to the medicine cabinet tucked in the corner. He pulled the thermometer, and after briefly reading over some labels, one of the medicinal syrups. He grabbed a cup, a plastic one he was not about to give a sick person a glass that they could drop, and filled it with water. On his way out, Charlie caught his eye. Alastor merely shook his head at her, and made his way back to your room.

Back in your room, Alastor helped you sit up, and propped the thermometer in your mouth. The back of his hand settled on your forehead, a strange habit he would never break. Your face was full of exhaustion, and it reminded him of another face, and he needed to force himself to focus. 

“Just a moment, dear. Then I can give you this water,” he said, waiting for the strange thermometer to beep. He pulled it out of your mouth with a gentle tug, and read the number. “Ah. 102. You definitely have a fever. It’s not severe, but let’s help you get better.” Alastor handed you the cup, keeping the bottom of it supported as your weak grip held it. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he set the cup down on the bedside table. He settled down, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“M’ throat hur’s,” you mumbled, your eyes blinking slowly. “An’ I don’ think I can eat anythin’ right now.” 

Alastor hummed. “Yes, I suppose we can let you rest now. We will get some warm broth in you later. If you do… expel later, it will be much worse on an empty stomach. Plus! Some good always helps heal the body and soul.” His claws push back some hair from your forehead. You lean into his hand, making him pause. (He would pretend the way his chest suddenly ached at the sight meant nothing. It was better that way).

“Can I have a hug?” Your voice is rough, but you’re looking at him with such hope in your eyes. Alastor can feel his smile get involuntarily tugged wider. 

“Hmm. I suppose. He crawls up onto the bed, and settles besides you. You were much smaller than him, so he towered over you, even as he settled against the back of the bed. You immediately turn and nuzzle into his side, face tucked into his ribs. His arm wraps around your shoulder and back. Alastor decides to ignore the fact that you’re sweaty, because he’s being nice, not because the way your arms wrap around him cuts off his thinking. 

“Sleep, dearest. I’ll be here.” Alastor hums to himself as you fall asleep.

He doesn’t like when people get sick, but perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing.

Asks are OPEN!

[twizzie-lairs]

Hazbin Hotel OC - Nia

All about my Hazbin Hotel OC - Nia!

General Info:

Nia died/arrived in hell a few years before Alastor first manifested in Hell.

She was a fan of Alastor's radio show when she was alive.

Nia was acquainted with Mimzy as well, as she was her neighbor.

She's typically very timid and shy unless provoked.

Backstory:

(TW: Some graphic descriptions of violence)

Even when she was alive, she always preferred to work in the background and usually shied away from the spotlight.

Because of this, she never really got in trouble and was generally a pretty goody-two-shoes type of person.

Nia didn't have many enemies, but a few people had it out for her because she wanted to abide by the rules and wouldn't bend the rules for them.

Her naive nature and typically strong moral compass snapped when she received the news that her mother had died due to complications in surgery when she went to pick up her mother from the hospital. It was a surgery that was supposed to be fairly low stakes and that didn't even require her mother to stay the night at the hospital.

Nia knew something was wrong, that there had to be foul play involved. She could feel it in her gut.

Fueled by grief and anger, she pretended to storm out of the hospital. But in reality, she went around to the back of the building and snuck in undetected where she hid for hours until it was night time.

After activity had quieted down for the evening/night, Nia came out of her hiding spot and eventually found the nurses' office where their schedules were. She mathematically combed through all the information she could without being caught, making mental note of which nurses had been scheduled to assist with her mother's operation earlier that day. Luckily for her, the head surgeon's name was right there too. And he just so happened to be in another surgery/operation right now.

Not wasting another minute, Nia made her way to the operating room- stopping in some other office and storage rooms along the way to gather some things she could use as makeshift weapons.

At this point Nia's breathing had turned into hyperventilating, eyes shaking and dilated. She would get her revenge on the people who took away the last living family member she had.

So, Nia burst into the operating room and got sent into a crazed-animal-like state after seeing the scene that greeted her.

Her mother's body was cut up in pieces on the operating table, nurses and doctors alike laughing amongst themselves while seemingly dividing up piles of money - a maniacal scream escaped Nia's throat as she flung herself onto the head surgeon that wore the nametag of the doctor who operated on her mother just earlier that day- slicing and stabbing him wherever she could with the needles from the sewing kit she found in one of the office rooms just a few minutes prior.

Nia was in such a crazed state that she didn't care, or maybe didn't even notice, that she was also hurting herself in the process while mutilating the now-already-dead surgeon that killed her mother. Another thing Nia didn't notice was that the rest of the staff in the room had fled.

it wasn't long before many boots could heard rushing toward the operating room. The police burst open, equipped with riot shields and guns pointed at Nia. But she didn't notice, she was too busy still stabbing and slicing the shredded and hole-y corpse.

The last thing Nia heard were many indiscernible shouts in her direction before a sharp pain pierced through her skull, making her lose all consciousness before her body fell with a thud upon the cold tiles of the operating room floor.

Then she woke up in Hell, memories of that night hazy.

She went back to her normally quiet and shy self but found herself more susceptible to outbursts that usually ended with carnage and bloodshed in some form.

Whenever she came to after one of those outbursts, she would only have a vague recollection of what had happened.

Later on, the hazy memories of the night she died would become clear again after she had started staying at the Hazbin Hotel, and that's how she would end up piecing together why her appearance in Hell and demon form looked the way they did.

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

CW: Blood. Less a content warning and more a note: Lucifer is one very depressed cookie and it shows.

oOo

Lucifer closed the portal behind them after making certain Alastor was clear. It had been a bit melodramatic, leaving by portal, he knew. He simply couldn't imagine attempting to leave any other way and risk screwing up the impression he'd just made.

He could be serious. He could do the whole scary bit. He just didn't like to do it for long.

He released Alastor's hand, tucking both his demons and angelic features alike away until he was his normal, unassuming self. Away from the studio and everyone's prying eyes, with the broadcast finally done and over, he felt like he could relax and breathe again.

Speaking of the redhead, Lucifer figured there was some unfinished business to take care of between them. Not to mention, he really did want to check in with him after that little power stunt. He was just thinking of doing so, when he felt a presence at his back.

Reflexes already on high alert from the stress of the studio, Lucifer spun around. He had enough time to recognize a red and white pinstriped coat, before he was being crowded backwards, red tipped claws going for his throat. It was only because he registered it was only Alastor-

('Only Alastor,' a slightly hysterical part of his brain jitters. When did he become so used to Alastor at his back that he stopped seeing as a threat?)

-that he didn't protest beyond an annoyed and startled, "Alastor, what are you doing??"

Alastor didn't answer, intent on his task, which seemed to be ridding his king of his bowtie. He snarled as the back of the Lucifer's knees hit the bed, sending him careening backwards. The redhead followed him down, hands abandoning their task to catch himself before he landed on top of the blonde.

For a moment, they froze, both panting. Lucifer stared up at Alastor from where he lay on his back, legs dangling over the side of the bed. Alastor stared down at him, black drool dripping down his chin, that quick witted mind near lost to his bloodlust.

Lucifer swallowed, the gulp loud in the silence of the room. Red, glowing eyes followed the movement, teeth elongating ever so slightly. His form had grown as his antlers extended as his Wendigo side threatened to take full control.

"Alastor, come back." Lucifer didn't dare move, not wanting to set him off. "You'll have your feast, but you need to come back first."

Alastor's responding growl was more canine than his form should allow. His claws dug into the bedsheets, the poor silk shredding under their sharp tips. Lucifer watched as he fought a battle with his hunger. The glow dimmed and brightened as his human mind struggled for control.

Lucifer could see the moment the balance tipped. Form mostly returned to normal, Alastor lowered himself until he could bury his face in the fallen angel's hair. "Transform." His voice sounded like he'd swallowed gravel, filter struggling to interpret the sound.

Slowly, Lucifer raised a hand, not touching, but held out in the universal sign for 'stop.' "Wait."

Alastor didn't take the response well. Sharp fangs grazed Lucifer's chin as the Radio Demon hissed, "You can't deny me."

Actually, Lucifer could. He still had quite a bit of his 12 hours left. He could leave right then and there and there was little Alastor could do to stop him. Perhaps he should have left right then, but there was no telling if delaying would allow the radio host time to calm down or if he'd lose more control as his hunger rose up again to swallow him.

"I'm not trying to." Unable to tell if the redhead could even see it from where he'd buried his face in the blonde's neck, Lucifer pointed up towards the head of the bed. "I just thought it would be more comfortable if I was propped up and you didn't have your face buried in the sheets."

Alastor's ears flattened. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. At least he seemed more stable now that he was convinced he wasn't being denied his feast.

With aching slowness, inch by inch, Alastor pulled away. When Lucifer could see his face again, only the charming facade of the Hazbin Hotel's hotelier peered back at him. Lucifer hadn't realized how tense he himself was until he was met with the familiar sight. He still hesitated to move, unsure of sinner's control.

Seeing his hesitation, Alastor's smiled down at him with that lazy grin of his. "Ah, that must have been unsightly. Please, let's relocate ourselves. It's always better to dine in comfort."

Lucifer's eye twitched. 'Dine in comfort.' One of them would be dinning in comfort, he supposed.

Lucifer slithered out from beneath the cage of Alastor's limbs. Usually, when someone joined him in his bed, he might have made a show of crossing it. Sometimes, it was a tease meant to excite. Sometimes, it was just being silly or just having fun. This was hardly the first time someone who wasn't a lover had joined him. Lilith had been his only sexual partner, his temptation of Eve aside, but he had shared a bed with friends and family throughout his life. Angels, fallen or not, were social creatures. It hadn't been uncommon for Lucifer and his brothers and sisters to indulge in cuddle fests that resulted in a giggling pile of limbs and wings. After their fall, Lucifer and some of the other deadly sins had retained some degree of need for physical contact, although they all had wildly different ways of meeting that need.

Since there was no one interested in any sort of play here, Lucifer merely scooted back towards the pillows, Alastor following his progress with a hunter's keen eye. He couldn't decide how he felt about the fact that the first person to join in his bed post divorcing his one and only marital partner was someone like the Radio Demon. This would even be the first time the blonde had invited a sinner into his bed. He nearly laughed at himself that, of course, it would be under the circumstance that said sinner was only here to feast upon his blood. He stopped when his back hit a pillow, already reaching to finish divesting himself of his bow tie. It had survived the redhead's attempt to rip it apart by virtue of being something Lucifer's magic had created. It went over the side of the bed with careless abandon, his vest following shortly after.

As he reached his shirt, he found himself pausing several buttons down. He had already bared all to this sinner once before. His pride certainly didn't leave him with anything to worry about - he knew how attractive he was. For some reason, though, the mere thought of getting any more undressed than an unbuttoned top was suddenly too much. Perhaps it was because of the encounter with Valentino, the sinner's slimy touch still burned into his skin. Perhaps it was because of how overwhelming everyone's attention at the studio had been. Whatever it was, he was hit with a feeling of being too overexposed to bare all, even if it was only from the waist up.

Alastor's eyebrow rose when he failed to remove his shirt, opting to only leave it unbuttoned. Lucifer was willing to deal with cleaning up the inevitable mess that was to come, as long as he could retain some of his modesty. The redhead was immediately distracted by the appearance of those blonde ears that heralded the beginning of Lucifer's transformation. An equally blonde, fluffy tail was hidden behind him, wedged under the bottom of the pillow behind him. Lucifer was likely going to have to rescue it shortly, but for the moment, he let it be.

He pulled the collar of his shirt until it fell off his shoulder. His throat bared and his grin sly, he croaked a finger in a 'come hither.' "Come and take your reward, sinner."

The size of the bed and his position near the center of the headboard forced Alastor to come to him on hands and knees. Despite this, there was no worship in his gaze nor a subservient bone in this sinner's body. Alastor approached him with the grace of a dancer tempered with the deadly intent of a predator. As he drew near, the blond spread his legs, inviting the redhead closer. Unlike the last time they were both in this bed in a similar position, Alastor showed none of that disgust, although he did stop to situate himself so that there was no physical contact anywhere below the waist.

Reserves about contact below the waist did not seem to apply to above it. The instant he was near enough to do so, Alastor's nose was back in his hair, expertly avoiding his antlers. Lucifer could change his shape to match any of Earth's creatures, both real and imaginary, but the change was only cosmetic. He took on none of their behaviors. Was influenced by none of their instincts. How messy it must be to have such foreign habits thrust upon someone.

Lucifer was so distracted by his contemplation of the inner workings of this sinner he'd found himself so entangled with, he'd stopped paying attention to to what the redhead was actually doing. This was his only explanation for why he was so caught off guard when something sharp pressed against his throat, demanding in its threat, but not so much so it broke the surface of his skin.

Something that wasn't Alastor's teeth, as evidenced by the sinner pulling back and the sensation remaining.

The gleam in Alastor's eyes, pupils aglow made him more wary than any potential threat of the weapon. He glanced down, the hilt of the blade - a dagger - just visible from that angle. His eyes darkened as he recognized it.

It was that angelic steel blade the wolf demon had attacked him with. The same one he'd utterly forgotten right up until just then.

Clearly someone had found it and squirreled it away for potential future use. Had he already been planning some use for it, even as they negotiated their first contract? Lucifer glared up at Alastor, finding the sinner's face completely shrouded in darkness, save the glow of his red eyes and his yellow teeth, bared in a riotous grin.

It was utterly unhinged.

Someone else's memory rose up, super imposing itself over reality. For a moment, it wasn't Alastor, the Radio Demon leaning over him. Instead, a man in his thirties, brunette and dark skinned, crouched over him, smile stretched as wide as humanly possible across his face, brown eyes illuminated with the reflection of a street lamp.

It had been the last sight many of Alastor's victims had seen before he silenced them forever.

Alastor cocked his head to the side, the image dissipating like the morning fog. He raised the hand not holding a dagger to his king's throat up to cup Lucifer's cheek. His thumb pressed down into the fragile skin under the blonde's eye, rubbing across the length of it, as his expression smoothed into that fond one he'd taken to wearing most of the last hour or two.

Lucifer wondered if Alastor was aware that he had Seen him - the same way he'd Seen the wolf who'd attacked the hotel, had Seen Valentino. Had Seen him; knew all of his victim's names and their last moments. Knew of the crooked moral code Alastor had lived by, one that might have been seen as righteous, had the man not enjoyed the kill a little too much.

Perhaps that fondness was because the Devil himself had gazed upon this sinner and all of his sins and had still chosen to lay down and bare his neck to him like a sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.

Alastor shifted his leg to better brace himself. He studied the position of the dagger with the critical eye of a seasoned killer. The dagger rose up, first a centimeter, then another half centimeter. He held it in place, satisfied with its position and leaving no question in how this was going to go. There was nothing particularly kind in his face as he crooned sweetly, "I wouldn't recommend moving now, sire." He tightened his grip on the side of Lucifer's head. "I'd hate to cause unintentional damage."

And with that, Alastor slit Lucifer's throat.

The resulting wound was a testament to the Radio Demon's skill, practiced in life and honed in death. It was as damaging as it needed to be: deep enough to slice right through the carotid artery, causing hot, golden blood to spill forth in a rush. Alastor darted forward, latching his mouth over the open wound and sucked.

It hurt. Lucifer hadn't thought the dagger would hurt worse than when Alastor had used his teeth, but it did. Intellectually, he appreciated the cut would last longer with the dagger than with Alastor's teeth. Intellectually be damned, though, because physically it burned like the dickens with every pull at the wound.

Alastor hadn't restricted his ability to fight back. On reflex, he darted a hand up, going for those sensitive ears. Alastor, feeling the muscle move beneath his mouth, dropped the dagger in favor of catching his wrist effortlessly. He slammed it down against the sheets, leaning his weight on it to pin it down.

He wasn't fast enough to capture Lucifer's other wrist, the fallen angel having gone lower to reach for the sinner's ribs. Lucifer's claws sharpened, sharper blades than even angel steel, cutting through cloth and flesh as easy as a hot knife through butter. He only stopped when the skin between two of his fingers hit bone. Immediately, the wet feeling of blood began to seep into the fabric and then onto his hand.

The redhead showed his displeasure by digging his teeth into the flesh around the cut, spilling even more blood in the process.

Lucifer writhed, unable to escape as long as Alastor continued to swallow down his blood. He hissed, managing to growl out, "Alastor, that... hurts."

Static screeched through the air. Alastor didn't remove his teeth, but he didn't drive them in deeper. Uncaring that he was causing more damage, he reached down and around, before yanking the blonde's claws from his side. Lucifer felt, more than saw, the blood spill from the wound and hitting his side, where the fluids immediately began to soak into both his shirt and the sheets, adding to the mess they were making of each other and his bed.

Lucifer panted, casting around for something to distract himself from the pain in his neck and the disturbing sound of Alastor gulping down his blood, abnormally loud in the otherwise silence of the room. There was little to focus on, save the feel of the silk sheets, his painfully trapped tail, and the feel of blood (his own and Alastor's) in varying stages of cooling and coagulation in the sheets around him.

The steady feel of dripping against his side managed to penetrate the haze of pain. He couldn't see it properly, but judging from the growing blood stain on his shirt, he concluded he'd done some damage himself. He had half a mind to leave it, a warning not to use the dagger in the future. His blood was more than adequate to heal the damage in no time.

Healing a wound required a great deal of concentration and he latched onto the thought as a welcome distraction. Told himself that was the only reason he was doing it. It certainly wasn't an apology, as he was of the opinion that Alastor had more than deserved it. Tearing his gaze away from the ears he wanted nothing more than to dig his claws into, his twisted his wrist in an attempt to free it. When Alastor refused him his freedom, Lucifer warned, "Let go." A little gentler, he assured, "I'm not going to hurt you again."

More static spilled out of the redhead. Lucifer thought he'd have to go back on his word and potentially hurt him to free himself, had half a mind to just let the stubborn asshole suffer, but eventually Alastor relinquished his hold. He full-bodied flinched as Lucifer pressed his hand over the wound, his growl a warning.

Lucifer ignored it, closing his eyes to focus on the damaged cells. He'd nicked the lowest two bones of Alastor's rib cage when he'd driven his claws in, but hadn't chipped them. He decided to focus on them last, instead coaxing the copious amounts of spilled blood lingering around the wound to coagulate and help seal up any severed blood vessels and torn flesh. Next, he began the process of speeding up the formation of collagen and fresh tissue until the wound looked like it was several weeks old, rather than a few minutes. Repair of the bone came next, smoothing away any marks he'd left behind until all signs of the wound were gone.

In response, Alastor withdrew his teeth, allowing the skin to finally begin to heal itself. Lucifer doubted he'd receive an apology any more than he felt like giving one himself.

As a last touch, Lucifer wiped away the tares to the pin stripped coat under his fingers with a simple swipe of his thumb. Finished with the task, he simply ran his thumb along the material, focusing on the texture. It was good quality, rougher than it was than anything he, himself, owned. If he remembered, he might ask Alastor about his tailor.

The sinner arched his back, leaning away from his hand. A signal he was at his limit on any unwanted physical touch. It was fine, in Lucifer's book, as his arm was beginning to feel heavy.

All of his limbs were beginning to feel heavy. His body sending him their own signal that it was at its own limit.

There was nothing Alastor could do to kill him. This was beyond the sinner's power. He could drain every drop of blood from this corrupt shell, tear it limp from limb, and consume as much flesh as he could stomach. Lucifer would live.

Immortal and durable as this body was, it had its limits. Rare as it was, unfelt in thousands of years, if Lucifer pushed too hard, withstood too much damage, out of self preservation, his body would simply shut down to conserve energy and focus on repairing the damage. It had been quite a while since he had done anything to feel this, but the feeling was still too tied to traumatic memories to ever forget.

He let his head lean back to rest against the headboard. Alastor's frantic feasting had diminished from that of a man starved to one who was savoring every last mouth full of a meal before admitting he was too stuffed to continue. The wound throbbed in time with his slowing heart, but Lucifer was already growing used to it.

Lucifer was unsure if he was going to have the strength to pretend he was unaffected enough to spar with a recovered Radio Demon. He could already feel the urge to give into his body's demands, to fall asleep right there and then and sleep until he was recovered enough to be conscious again. Normally, he wouldn't care about the wolf he had willingly invited into his room and into his bed, he had already proven which of the two of them was more powerful.

But this wouldn't be a normal sleep. Alastor might not have registered as foe anymore, but he was still capable of doing anything. There was no telling where or in what condition Lucifer would wake up in.

A weight dropped down on him, jolting him back into alertness. He hadn't realized he had closed his eyes until they snapped open. He came aware to find himself pinned rather effectively to the bed. He turned his head to the side, almost getting a face full of black tipped hair in the process. He blamed his addled brain for how long it took him to realize what had happened. In his defense, it wasn't something he ever thought would happen.

Alastor was laying on top of him. With Lucifer's reclined position and the bend in the sinner's back, he didn't think it was very comfortable.

What?

The redhead quite expertly causing his brain to malfunction tensed. The blond thought it might be because of all the physical contact they were currently sharing. Alastor put that thought on the back burner when he propped himself up, up until they were nearly nose to nose, and gave him a look.

Lucifer blinked up at him, baffled. Alastor was studying him like he was suddenly the most curious creature he had ever encountered and Lucifer had no clue what he'd down to warrant it.

Taking advantage of his lack of energy and utter bafflement, Alastor proceeded to take it upon himself to manhandle the blonde until they were both at a more reclined angle. Seemingly happy with their new position, the sinner resumed his previous spot.

Right on top of Lucifer.

Lucifer wanted to protest, a little voice in his mind quite vocal over the sinner's audacity. Protesting would have required he muster up enough energy to try and make sense of how the hell they had somehow gone from Alastor not wanting to touch him to... well. This.

Whatever this was.

He blinked at the ceiling, something he had done numerous times since moving in. It held no more answers to his questions than it ever did. Dredging up enough magic from the bottom of the wellspring that was the source of his power, he cleaned up the blood. Butterfly stitches, covered by a bandage appeared around his neck. By the time it needed to be changed it, he wouldn't need it anymore.

Pressed up against him chest to sternum, Lucifer couldn't help but notice that Alastor was all long limbs and lithe muscle. The sinner's weight was usually negligible, the fallen angel more than capable of tossing him around. Now, it felt like it could actually hold him here in this place that should be safe (but wasn't). The heat of his body seeped into Lucifer's where they were pressed together, coaxing his muscles to give up the last of their tension.

It eased something in his core, a longing for physical contact with another person he'd desperately wished for since Lilith last shared their bed. It was… almost nice. Almost nice enough he could forget all of the steps that had lead them to this moment.

Alastor's breathing had deepened. He wasn't asleep, but he seemed close. Perhaps expending as much energy as he had, like working a new muscle for the first time, followed by a hearty meal was threatening to send the redhead into his own coma.

It didn't explain what was going on here.

"What are you doing?"

The end of the question was muffled by the hand Alastor had placed over Lucifer's mouth. Lucifer didn't have the energy to glare at it.

"Sleep, sire." Alastor's voice had deepened, his filter all but gone. His hand fell away to lay beside the blonde's cheek on the pillow. He turned his head to bury his nose in Lucifer's hair. "Everything else can wait until later."

Lucifer still didn't know if this place was any safer now than it had been at the start of his worries, but he found that he was willing to find out. Closing his eyes, he let slumber take him.

The pinging of his phone roused him. Lucifer shifted, the sluggishness of his limbs coming from a deep slumber rather than an intrinsic need to recover. He was warm, warmer than he had been when he'd fallen asleep.

He knew even before he opened his eyes that Alastor was gone.

He noted the warmth he'd felt came from having been tucked under the covers. He didn't remember the redhead getting up. Didn't remember being moved and placed under the covers. He almost snorted at the fact that although Alastor had decided to pull the covers over him, he'd tucked him in, clothes and boots and all. He'd know that ceiling anywhere, so he was still in his room. A glance at his clock told him that he had been passed out for six hours.

Not the longest time he'd taken to recover. Not the shortest, but not the longest. He must have been more stressed than he gave himself credit.

He pushed himself up on to his elbows, getting a better look around the room. There was no one else in the room. No sounds came from his personal bathroom, the door open and the light off.

Grief tightened the muscles in his chest, the feeling almost immediately washed away by a tidal wave of self loathing and anger. There had been no reason to believe there would be anyone there when he woke up. He had lost the right to the company of his brothers and sisters when he rebelled against Heaven. Lost his fellow sins when he turned his back on his kingdom and withdrew from everyone except his wife and daughter. Lilith had left decades before she finally walked out the door with Charlie, likely finally reaching her limit with him.

And Alastor? All Alastor wanted from him was access to his blood and some unknown favor at some point in the future. Who know what that guy was thinking, let alone why he had deemed Lucifer a decent pillow to sleep on. For all Lucifer knew, he had imagined the whole thing and had passed out prior to Alastor dropping on him.

He fell back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands. The only person that still wanted anything to do with him for him was Charlie. It sucked, but he had done it to himself. He simply had to live with it.

He let himself wallow in his self pity for several more minutes, before the pinging of his phone told him he really needed to get up and deal with whoever was trying to get his attention. He slide one hand down to touch the side of his neck, the bandage proof that he hadn't imagined the entire afternoon. He let it ground him and remind him of his obligations.

He went first to his bathroom. Turning on the light forced him to reckon with the mess that was his appearance. Yellow strands of hair was all in a wild disarray and the bruising under his eyes more pronounced than usual. Splashing water in his face helped with some of the puffiness, while finger combing his hair brought the mess somewhat under control. He would mostly have to contend with appearing tired, something he thought fair since it was coming up on evening.

He turned his inspection to Alastor's parting gift. Pulling away the bandages, he silently cursed the redhead as he noted it would be too high to hide with his normal attire. His choices were either wear something with a higher neckline or advertise to the entirety of the hotel what he had allowed Alastor to talk him into.

A snap of his fingers conjured a cashmere roll neck in the same shade of pink as his favorite vest. It wasn't his preferred level of dress and he had to placate himself with the reminder that it would only be for a few days. He nodded his head, his reflection mirroring the action back at him. It would have to do.

Lucifer navigated his way back to his bedside dresser, stepping over a few errant ducks that had wandered away from their various piles. His phone had been silent the entire time he was freshening up, which could mean anything. He picked it up, tapping the screen and lighting up the lock screen. Various notifications light up the area below the lock screen clock. Most were spam: a warning about the prediction of acid ran in a few hours or some event Bee was holding that upcoming weekend. He noted the bundle of text messages, one from Charlie at the top of the pile.

He unlocked the phone, pulling up his daughter's text first. The message was a simple request to let her know when he had returned.

He sent her a quick reply, letting her know that he had returned safely, but had accidentally taken a unexpected nap following his return. He didn't have to wait long before she answered back, saying she was glad he was okay. Another message followed, asking if he would be joining them for dinner.

He placed her answer on hold, opting to check on the other messages he had received first. By coincidence, her text message and several from one of his live-servants had arrived, one right after the other, giving the illusion that he was receiving a storm of text messages.

Abiwell was the unlucky imp that had the misfortune of sorting out any correspondence that arrived for the royal family. High was the mountain that was usually for Lilith, everyone wishing for the Queen to grace them with her presence. However, no protocol had been put in place for what to do with her correspondence should she ever leave. So abrupt had been her disappearance, an overwhelmed Lucifer had refused to deal with the issue. With no idea if she would ever return, looking more unlikely the longer she was gone, many of them had simply been placed in her office to wait for her potential return.

Rarely, becoming more so with each passing year, were things that needed Lucifer's attention. Many of his few remaining correspondents had cottoned on that the best way to reach him was via his cellphone. When he'd gone into near total isolation over the last seven years, it had been the only way to reach him. As such, any remaining letters addressed to him had evaporated.

Or so it had seemed.

Innocently sitting in a text, attached as a picture file, was a royal invitation. And not just any invitation, oh no, it was one from one of the ruling families of the Ars Goetia, which meant he really couldn't ignore it. He tapped the image file, enlarging it until he could read the inscription.

His Royal Highness, Stolas, Grand Prince of the Ars Goetia, and Stella, Princess of the Ars Goetia, request the pleasure of the company of Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar at the Coming of Age Ceremony of their daughter Her Royal Highness, Octavia, Heiress of the Ars Goetia on--

Lucifer's first instinct, born of almost a millennium of doing so and not to be undone by a mere seven years, was to forward the message to Lilith. With a sickening lurch, he remembered for what felt like the first time all over again, that that option wasn't an option at all. One, because everything he'd sent her over the last seven years had received a 'message not sent' response and two, because she had left and no one knew where she was. No longer seeing the invitation, Lucifer's grip tightened, the cellphone giving a plasticky sounding creak in protest.

This was one of the ranking members of the royal families of Hell. Hellborn, yes, but still royalty. Each of the Sins, or someone representing them, were expected to show up or it would be viewed as a sever slight. Lilith, his queen and representative, could no longer attend.

Which meant that he would be expected to attend or risk offending one of the higher ranking families of the Ars Goetia.

For one (weak, so very weak) moment, he considered handing the invitation over to Charlie. He was already justifying it to himself - she had to start attending these events some day - before he stopped himself.

No. No, he couldn't send Charlie. The last time he'd (had a bad day) sent Charlie in his place, Heaven had decided to throw a temper tantrum over the fact that a sinner had discovered one of their dirty little secrets.

The phone slid out of nerveless fingers, the little thump as it hit the bed overshadowed by the larger thump of his knees hitting the floor. He covered his mouth, stifling the bitter, hollow laugh rattling around in his lungs. It had been one thing to show his face to the sinners of Pentagram City. He didn't care about their opinions, not really.

Going in front of his fellow peers, the other Sins, was an entirely different animal. The other Sins, his fallen brothers and sisters, were all that remained of his ties to his Heavenly family. They had teased and supported him when he courted and won Lilith's favor. Stood by him when he'd stirred unrest in Heaven. They were the only ones that hadn't turned their backs on him when he fucked up and released the Root of All Evil, giving her a foot hold in Humanity.

And yet, that was what he had done to them. He'd turned his back on them, on everyone, the deeper he'd fallen into the blackhole that was his depression. How could he face them after leaving all of Hell to rot? For driving Lilith away?

It filtered through his thoughts, the realization that he couldn't breathe. His throat felt too tight as his diaphragm felt like it suddenly didn't remember how to work. Trying to focus on his breathing, trying to manually draw in air, seemed to only be making things worse, the blood rushing in his ears as it became too oxygenated--

"Sire?"

Alastor.

Lucifer froze, heart seizing in his chest.

Alastor's footsteps drew near as he came around the bed, stopping at the end as he spotted him.

Their gazes locked, Lucifer's panic rising with each passing heart beat. If he had been any less panicked, he might have remembered that he could have easily opened a portal and fled to the palace. He could have just as easily opened a portal directly under Alastor's feet, sending the sinner on a one way ticket to the floor below them. He was a creature capable of flight and there was a perfectly functional window just off to his right. If for some reason the window wasn't working, see previous portal making ability.

All rationale had gone up in smoke, however, as the memory of Alastor's (Lilith's) words drove all thoughts from his head.

How pathetic.

He watched as Alastor's shoes (when had he dropped his gaze?) came closer. He couldn't bear to see what expression the sinner had on his face, this human whose opinion he swore he didn't care about but apparently still did. He frowned when Alastor came within arm's reach, and then folded himself gracefully down into a crouch in front of him.

The sinner reached out a hand, getting as far as brushing the skin of his hand before the fallen angel flinched, curling in on himself as if he was the one that abhorred touch.

"Sire?" There was no sound of mocking in that voice. Alastor sounded like he was trying to coax out a wild animal that had taken refuge under his porch and then found itself too terrified to leave.

It only made Lucifer want to draw up his knees and hunch his shoulders in. He couldn't understand why Alastor wasn't making some cutting remark about his lack of control. He certainly hadn't held back before.

Confused and unable to articulate the root of his issue, he went with, "But… you hate people touching you."

Alastor huffed. Lucifer finally mustered the courage to glance at his face. His smile was ever present - the blonde was fairly certain the redhead couldn't not smile - but it was closed and smaller than normal. Alastor had no use for kindness, but he did know how to be gentle when necessary. It was the only word - "gentle" - Lucifer could think to explain the expression on his face in that moment.

"You're quite right, your Majesty. I strongly dislike people touching me," Alastor affirmed. When he reached for Lucifer's hand again, the blonde didn't resist out of confusion. "I do find it somewhat tolerable if that touch is happening under my terms."

Lucifer couldn't draw the air in to ask, what are you doing? The question must have shown on his face anyway.

Alastor drew Lucifer's hand in to rest the latter's palm upon the former's chest. Taking a breathe in, the redhead said, "Breathe with me, sire. Deep breathe in, followed by a slow breathe out." He demonstrated the appropriate breathe in through the nose, followed by a longer breathe out through the mouth. Repeated it until Lucifer started to mimic him.

Lucifer's focus narrowed down until all he could feel was the rise and fall of the chest beneath his palm. Until all he could see was that ever present mask of a smile on Alastor's face, the sinner's own coping mechanism with the world. He forced the relaxation of the muscles in his chest and abdomen, trusting his lungs and diaphragm knew what they were doing, careful not to focus too much on the act of breathing itself. To focus on that would be to start the cycle all over again.

He slumped against the side of the bed, feeling shaky and twitchy. His breathing was back under control, but he felt like one wrong thought might send him back over the edge.

Seeing the crisis was temporarily abated, Alastor coaxed and manhandled him up onto the bed. The offending cellphone, with its oh so innocuous message, was deposited on the bedside table, lest it get lost in the bedsheets. A little more maneuvering around and the sinner had his king bundled up in the comforter, Lucifer's head the only visible thing about him.

Lucifer was too blank to do anything other than stare as Alastor took a seat beside him, pulling him up against the redhead's side. He couldn't feel anything through the comforter (which was perhaps the point), but he could feel the sharp tips of claws running lightly across his skull, could feel the whisper of an exhale as it moved several strands of hair.

This show of comfort felt like a ruse, another part of this game that Alastor was playing with him. He knew what the sinner was doing, could see the jaws of the trap closing in around him. When had the game changed from driving him away to pulling him in? What would Alastor do if Lucifer allowed himself to become ensnared, as Alastor was so unwittingly becoming ensnared himself?

No, he would not let himself fall into that trap, not this day. But he would allow himself to accept this comfort, shallow and full of barbs as it was.

They sat there for some undetermined amount of time, Lucifer content to let the warmth of his cocoon seep into his limbs and ease his shivering. It was inevitable that one of them would break the silence, he was merely surprised the sinner was patient enough he lasted as long as he did.

"Will you tell me what troubles you, your Majesty?"

What didn't trouble him? He eyed the deer demon out of the corner of his eye, wondering what he planned to do with this ammunition, should Lucifer choose to confide in him.

Knowing it was no secret he had avoided any social gathering he could get out of, he offered, "Octavia is coming of age. Stolas and Stella are holding a coming of age ceremony for her."

Alastor fell silent, pondering. For clarification, he asked, "The Ars Goetia?"

The noise Lucifer made was somewhere between a snort and a hum, unsurprised that Alastor was up to date even in this area. "Of course you know who they are."

Alastor pulled away, laughing. "I couldn't very well climb the corporate ladder of Pentagram City if I didn't know all of the players in the game." His nails came perilously close to one of the yellow-white ears Lucifer had yet to send away. "They may not play with sinners, but we do all share real estate."

Sinners and Hellborn sharing space in a single ring was always going to be a powder keg waiting to ignite. Where once upon a time, both parties numbers had been so low it had been easy to avoid each other, now humanity's numbers were booming far faster than Hell's native species could keep up.

Alastor's hand came to rest on Lucifer's shoulder, the weight barely noticeable through the thick comforter. There was a thoughtful look on his face as he mused, "I'm a little surprised they're cooperating enough to hold the ceremony. All the latest gossip says she's trying to kill him." He gave Lucifer an amused smile, the edges tinted with mockery. "Ah, the hilarious things you royals do to keep up appearances."

Lucifer nearly snorted, bitterness lapping at the edges of his numbness like the incoming tide. Power was a game of chess, where all the players made small talk and played nice, while everyone was secretly plotting behind everyone else's backs. When marriage was done for politics and status, not for love, it was bound to cause some tension.

He stared straight ahead, refusing to look at his phone. "The Sins - or a stand in - will be expected to go."

Alastor caught on quick. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde, something malicious just beneath the surface of his smile. "Why not send Charlie, then? Has she not represented you in the past?"

Irritation warred with guilt, almost enough to break free. Lucifer bared his teeth in a half hearted snarl, more for show then actually meaning it. The heat in his voice was just as half hearted as he answered, just as honest, "I'm not going to ask her to fight my battles again."

It was unlikely that anything of the magnitude of Heaven upping the extermination of Hell's population of sinners would happen at a coming of age ceremony, but Charlie had had enough bad luck for one year. Why test it some more?

He let the expression drop, pulling the covers tighter around his shoulders. "Besides, it's just a social gathering," he said, as if it hadn't just triggered the beginnings of a panic attack less than ten minutes prior. "I can do a social gathering."

He didn't know who he was trying to fool with that statement, but it certainly wasn't Alastor, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

Oh, who was he kidding? He so couldn't do a social gathering.

Alastor eyed him, considering. "Would it help if someone went with you?"

Lucifer chewed on the idea. "Who would I even ask?" He hadn't gone to a social gathering by himself in hundreds of years. Usually, either Lilith or Lilith and Charlie had gone with him, whether it was the some milestone for the latest heir or a children's play date. He couldn't ask Lilith to go with him for obvious reasons and asking Charlie would feel too much like he was asking her to act as his crutch, something that wouldn't be fair to her. With them not being an option, that kind of left him empty handed. "Nope, can't think of anyone."

"Didn't I tell you, sire?" Something dark and sweet lurked in Alastor's expression as the dealmaker ran his fingers up Lucifer's neck, settling on cupping his jaw. His head was forced to turn until they face to face, Alastor's smile like honey meant to draw the unsuspecting in. "You still have me."

An echo, a whisper, I'll be with you the whole time.

Lucifer was too stunned to react. Their deal was all but done. Alastor had done his part. The only thing left to do was for the sinner to call in his mysterious favor and it would be done. Why would he sign up for a night of babysitting a twitchy fallen angel? Nervously, he laughed. "Funny, I thought you were serious there for a moment."

Alastor drew closer until their noses almost touched. His brow twitched. "I'm quite serious."

Lucifer leaned back. "I'm not about to make another deal with you." His neck twinged, reminding him of the ones he was already trapped in.

The redhead rolled his eyes as if Lucifer was the one being ridiculous. "And who's asking?" He waved the concern away with his free hand. "The experience alone would be of worth to me."

Lucifer doubted it was that simple. Still, he tried picturing it: this taciturn, egotistical sinner in a room full of beings powerful enough to swat him like a fly the moment he annoyed them. Lucifer's could feel the dubious frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You do realize every single one of the people at this party is going to dislike you, right? Hellborn don't like mingling with sinners."

Alastor looked at him like he wondered who Lucifer thought he was. "This won't be my first party with a pack of wolves."

"You do know you're not invincible, right?" One of these days, Alastor's ego was going to get him killed. To drive this point home, he raised his hand up to the redhead's forehead, made easier by Alastor still being so close, and flicked.

Right where the bullet that had killed him would have exited.

The response was electric.

Alastor's eyes turned red on black, green stitching lighting up his person. His hands, claws razer sharp, caught Lucifer's grip in what would have been a bone crushing grip, had Lucifer been a sinner. "Don't ever do that again." The Radio Demon's smile was long and full of teeth as sharp as his claws. He was fully rejuvenated from his little stunt earlier in the day and he likely could have taken on any of the Overlords in that moment and won.

But as powerful as he was, Lucifer barely felt the grip around his wrist. It would be child's play to break it. Alastor would be nothing more than a fly to even the least powerful member of the Goetia. That was his point.

Lucifer matched his smile with the blankness of apathy. "You wouldn't last the night in the same room with these demons. They'd eat you alive the moment you pissed them off." Would it be worth it to inflict a sinner - this sinner, at that - on the rest of the Goetia just to see how long Alastor could last before someone knocked him down another peg?

Alastor was undeterred by the threat. "Is that a yes?"

This was a bad idea. Lucifer shrugged, feeling a little light headed. "Sure. Just know I'm not bailing you out when you get in over your head."

The redhead released his wrist, finally backing off. His appearance returned to normal, as if he had never lost his temper to begin with. "Perfect. And when is this ceremony?"

Lucifer couldn't believe he was actually doing this. This was such a bad idea. But he was the King of Bad Ideas, was he not? Covering his eyes with a single hand, he groaned.

"It's tomorrow."

tbc

Part 14

[vikkirosko]

Hi there! I’m just here to send in a request since there open here I go!

Could I request Vox and Alastor with a GN! Gyaru! Reader who listens to a lot of kpop, jpop and V系? they have a lot of albums and other merchandise based off those other genres, also bonus if they see them dance a little to the songs, INCLUDING if they’re hime gyaru and they’re very sweet, nice and helping to those around them. and yes I would like this romantic.

Thank you so much if you do this! I’m looking forward to it and I hope you have a wonderful day, 그동안 뵙겠습니다!

Headcanons Gyaru

📻 Alastor x gn!Reader 🎙

Alastor has always noticed unusual sinners. Not all of them attracted his attention, but it was hard not to notice you, especially in such a sparsely populated place as a hotel. You were one of the hotel guests and stood out because of your style of dress. You wore clothes in white and pink colors and you loved music, which, to Alastor's taste, was unusual

He has heard the music you liked so much several times. You often turned it on in your room or when you were helping in the kitchen. You often sang along to the songs you listened to. This music was very different from the one that Alastor liked so much, but as long as you didn't impose your musical tastes on him, everything was fine with him

Alastor was courting you. You were very different from him. You were kind, sweet, and often helped others. Maybe that's why you got along so well with the others. There wasn't a shred of falsehood in you. Alastor was curious to find out what you were hiding from the others, but that wasn't the only reason why he was spending time with you

It was unusual for the others that Alastor and you were getting closer, but no one, not even Charlie, dared to ask. As long as the relationship between you was good, the rest of you were fine with it. Alastor liked your communication and he wasn't going to give up on it

🖥 Vox x gn!Reader 📱

Vox was familiar with many modern trends. He knew perfectly well about your style and what kind of music you liked. He was not the one who judged. On the contrary, he liked it when your clothing style and color scheme were so different from the one he was used to. It was as if you filled his life with gentle colors

He watched with interest as you sang along to your favorite songs and you even danced. Sometimes, when Vox was in a particularly good mood, he would take you dancing. Your dance usually didn't match the music, but he liked it anyway, just like he liked your sincere, gentle smile, which he loved to see on your face

You stood out among those with whom he communicated not only with your style of clothing, but also with your character. You were sweet, caring and often helped others. You didn't hurt anyone, and sometimes Vox sighed heavily, wondering how you even survived in Hell before you met. He liked the way you were, but it was hard for him to believe that you could easily live in Hell

You were an unusual couple in Hell who attracted the attention of others. Vox loved you and your unusual style for Hell, he loved your easy character. Next to you, he could forget that unpleasant situations had happened in his life and feel really happy

[radioappleheadcanons]

Thinking about how both TVs and Phones use radio waves, and how that means, in theory, that the only reason Vox and Velvette can function as overlords is because Alastor lets them. Thinking about how they could push too far and lose that mercy they don't even know he's giving them.

They insult his mother, I think. Maybe just one, maybe both. But he glows that they had better shut their mouths. They don't. He just about tears them to shreds. The power goes out, and phones don't work, but they think it's because of the attack. It takes months for them to heal, but the devices never start working again. It was the first thing they tried to fix, as they were healing. They got power back, so there are lights, but no phones or TVs or anything that uses radio waves. They think the Radio demon must have cursed them, but they don't know how.

At the Hotel, things are tense, because Charlie isn't happy with Alastor's outburst. The others are scared of him, all but Lucifer. After yet another fight between the hotel owner and its sponsor, Alstor storms up to his radio tower. The king follows, determined to get answers. Alastor isn't happy to see him, but Lucifer doesn't care.

He sits on the floor, watching the radio demon, before asking 'Did you know that phones and tvs use radiowaves? I didn't. I only learned because I was researching them a few days ago."

"Going to yell at me for breaking them?" The redhead hissed.

"No. But I am course as to what they did to push you. They've done a lot of horrible things, but you've never responded like this." The shadow hisses at the king and lunges at him, but Lucifer bats it away. He's waiting for a response.

"They insulted my mother." It's hard to hear over the angry static, but the blond makes it out.

He hums. "You must love her a lot, to have this response. Tell me about her. I never really had one and Lilith - while I love her - did leave Charlie and I." Alastor stills at that. He hadn't ever really considered it. But he slowly slides down so he's sitting next to Lucifer and starts to tell him about his mama and everything she had done for him.

Later, Lucifer goes to the Vees, looking amused to see them scramble. He asks several teasing questions, with the goal of learning if they know why their things are still down. They don't. And gleefully, he explains. At their horrified faces, he laughs.

When they ask if he could command Alastor to simply stop, he turns serious. "No. And you have a lot of nerve asking me to do so. From what I know, that woman was practically a saint. And even if she wasn't, she's the closest thing I'll ever have to a mother." He turns and leaves, and the Vees stare after him, too scared to think about what that last sentence implies

[littlebluentebook]

Alastor x Sewing!Reader Pt.5

Chapter 6

"Alastor were you alright?" you asked The night was still awfully early compared to the last week you were there.

"I am alright darling, just feeling a little under the weather is all." Alastor was quick on his feet to come up with an excuse.

You were very shaken up after the dance and he wanted to get you away as soon as possible. In addition, many other men were looking a you.He felt protective of you in a way. Anyone who looked at you lustfully had a reserved daydream in Alastor's mind of being torn to shreds. Alastor wanted you to be all his. It was a silly thought and a foreign concept to him. He liked how kind you were and how you acted towards him.The pleasant conversations were an added bonus. He felt as though everything between you two was so natural and he could slightly let his guard down near you. Of course, he wouldn't utter a word about his jealousy being the reason the night ended short in case it upset you.

"oh goodness! When we get to my home I'll have to give you some medicine and tea!"

You were worried about your friend. What if he had gotten a cold from walking you home last week? The least you could do was ward it off a slight bit. Tonight you had learned your lesson and brought your own jacket so Alastor wouldn't freeze for you.

"Alastor, please come inside and join me for a cup of tea, at least enough to keep you warn on your walk home." You both were standing in the shops entrance. The truth was after your encounter you didn't want to be left alone.

"Hm, just one and I'll be on my way."

Inside the shop Alastor made a note of the flowers on your center table in the middle of the store. You made all the surrounding garments to match. Smiling at this he promised himself he wouldn't forget to give you new flowers at the beginning of the week.

You both walked further into the store to a door Alastor didn't notice before.

"Sorry if it's messy at all, I have had a very busy week and not much time to clean." You knew your home wasn't messy one bit but wanted to break the silence. There wasn't enough time spent there for it to be messy

"You are an awfully busy person Y/N, I think I can excuse it just this once."

You sat Alastor in your small living room, joining him after the kettle was on the stove.

He took notice of your home while you were away. It was neat in its own way. Your home definitely reflected that you were a busy person. Random sheets of numbers and sketches sat in a neat pile on the coffee table. There were books sorted by author and series but stacked haphazardly on a book shelf. The room had three windows with a nice view of the city below. He could even see the radio tower from one window.

"Do you have a tea preference?" you asked unsure.

"What do you have?" Alastor had certain tastes but wanted make sure he wasn't asking too much of you. He wanted to revel in your kindness, for it to be all his. Yet, he didn't want to take advantage of you. It was odd because typically he doesn't mind using others for his own gain.

"Green, chai, black, earl..." you rattled off.

"Chai sounds delightful"

"Perfect! Its my favorite."

It worked well for the evening to wind you both down.

"Y/N?" Alastor asked catching your attention, "how do you stay warm? You have no furnace."

"Oh!" the question caught you by surprise. Sometimes you forget that most homes have fireplaces. Your building wasn't originally meant to be a home and therefore didn't have one. "I have plenty of quilts that I stack. Plus, the oven typically warms this whole place up!"

The kettle went off and you got up to steep yours and Alastor's tea. On the way back you brought the tea, honey, sugar and two quilts. You assumed Alastor was cold and that was why he asked about a non existent furnace.

Alastor had asked the question so maybe you would think he was cold and sit close er to him. He absolutely enjoyed the feeling of you on his arm while walking.

You sat the tea, honey, and sugar on the coffee table then handed him one of the quilts you had made. It was a simple pastel blue with hints of floral fabric.

Instead if grabbing the quilt, Alastor reached underneath to grab your hand and gently led you to sit on the loveseat next to him. You both settled under your respective blankets. You reached for you tea, adding 2 cubes of sugar and a spoonful of honey. Alastor however reached for your stationary hand. He held it without a word, acknowledging nothing.

You didn't say anything either. He was such a gentleman to you! There was no point in ruining a friendship with nonsensical words.

Even after your tea was finished you and Alastor continued to talk about the world around you. He appreciated your ability to find beauty in the world and you appreciated how he could hold a meaningful intelligent conversation.

The entire time you both continued to hold hands. No words were mentioned but Alastor would casually make sure you wouldn't forget your hands were intertwined with his. He grabbed your second hand as soon has the tea was finished. He later then rubbed his thumb across your knuckles every once in a while while you were talking. Whenever you got passionate about a topic he would hold them both close together and bring them towards his lips for a light kiss.

By the time the two of you noticed the time, it was far too late for Alastor to walk home. You insisted he spend the night to which he reluctantly agreed. In all honesty he was excited to be spending all the time he could with you.

You ran down the stairs and into your spare room and grabbed a set of pajamas you hadn't sold for him to put on. They were dark red a fleece lined.

"These are the most comfortable clothes I have ever put on Y/N" he was astonished with the quality and comfort.

"Keep them darling!"

You and Alastor played the game of who would sleep where. He was willing to take your love seat but he was a guest, you wouldn't allow it. Additionally, neither of you fit on that seat comfortably.

[citrusbatsandhoneybees]

-The Fading Star-

-Part One-

Part 1 Part 2

Haha! I've never done this before, but I've been so obsessed with Hazbin Hotel (especially Lucifer) ever since it came out. Everything everyone makes is so inspiring, so I figured I'd try to make something myself. Take it easy on me please! <3 Also if it wasn't clear this is purely self-indulgent, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

Anyways..

Lucifer Morningstar X Female Self Insert

Content Warnings: Mentions of blood, injury, angst, brief mention of cannibalism, and angst (I think that's it? Let me know if I missed anything)

Quick Synopsis: Tsuki was made to keep Lilith company during her marriage with Adam, but finds herself unwillingly, falling in love with a certain archangel. Then after many millennia the reader, Tsuki, reunites with Lucifer.

Golden lights flicker around an angel as she flies through a portal, and is instantly hit with the smell of sulfur, floating ash and blood. The sound of guttural screams fills her ears, as she flies herself closer to the bottom of the hill that the hotel once laid atop of. With a roll of her shoulders, her wings retract into her back, and her halo fades away with small glitters that fell from the place it once was. While walking up the hill, she assesses her surroundings. She finds pale skinned sinners adorned in vintage clothing and stains of shimmering golds and deep crimsons. Wanting to gag, she watches them shred her fellow angel’s bodies with only their teeth and claws but continues her pace up the hill and toward the hotel. Dread starts to travel through her as she thinks to herself. Shit am I too late? Before the angel could rush towards the broken-down hotel, she stopped in her tracks feeling a familiar sting thumping against her chest. Looking around the view of the rubble, she spots a hunched over figure hobbling away from the current scene. Naturally her hand reaches out toward the scarlet form, and small violet sparks spawn a small circle, and the shape expands big enough for her to step through. 

Alastor lets out a deep, guttural groan as he lays back against some rubble. He kept his hand across the deep cut that was ripped into his chest, placing pressure against it to stop anymore blood from pouring out the wound, but to no avail. He feels sweat run past his brow, as he allows a sick laugh through his lips and places the back of his other hand across his closed eyelids. This blocks out the flickering red light that stood above him. The radio demon tries to focus on riding out the pain but is quickly interrupted by the sounds of a low hum accompanied by sparks fizzling in the air. Alastor’s ears twitch back as he quickly grasps his wound a little harder; on guard, he glares down a portal that forms only a few feet away from him. 

As the angel walks through the portal, she moves her hands forward, and keeps her eyes on the sinner in front of her. She attempted to make him feel safe with a soft smile as she walked closer to the deer-like demon. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay! I-”

The atmosphere turned frigid, as she was interrupted by the growing sounds of a radio crackling and hissing. Large shadowy tendrils rose around him ready to strike, and although Alastor’s wicked smile remained, his eyes told a different story.

“I advise you not to come any closer, I wouldn’t normally hurt a dame such as yourself; however, I won’t hesitate if necessary.” 

As he adjusts himself against the rubble behind him, a groan accompanies his words and his eyes squint ever so slightly. 

The angel raised her hands in defense, as she continued to walk slowly closer to him. Her eyes were soft as she examined his injury as much as she could from the distance she was at. 

“I am only here to help, I know what I’m doing, you can trust me.” 

Alastor allowed her to walk closer, watching every single movement she made, but to her surprise, as she knelt down in front of him, the dark tentacles dissipated around the two. He continued a watchful gaze on her, seeing her slowly raise a hand over his chest. 

“Are you okay with me healing you?”

The angel stares intently into his eyes, keeping a gentle expression. His eyes squinted a little, looking over her face for any trickery behind it. 

“Strange question dear, but yes if you are willing.”

She nods in response and a quick flourish of violets and sparkling particles erupt from her palm. She stayed focused as the injury was quickly sealed and stitched together with a magical winding string that flowed from her palm, leaving nothing but a small purple line across his chest where the cut once was. Her eyes return back to the deer’s, giving him a small smile. His own return to hers after grasping his chest, feeling no pain where the gash once was. He eyes her up and down, his smile never wavering. She thinks to herself watching his actions. What a strange one… 

“Now, let me help clean you up.” 

She referred to the state of clothing and skin; they were now crusted with the evidence of his gash. She was about to form a cleaning supplies and clothing before Alastor interrupted her thoughts. 

“No need my dear, I believe I can handle that!” 

She narrowed her eyes while watching him quickly stand up and shadows encapsulate him for a moment but release him to reveal that his suit was reverted back to the way they once were. Alastor bends forward, offering his hand to her, and she takes his offer of help up. 

“You have my gratitude Dear, is there anything that I could do for you?”

His tone had an underlying sense of interrogation, as he watched her closely. The angel raised her hands and shook her head with a smile. 

“I don’t need anything, really! Glad I could help, but I should really go now.” 

Her eyes glanced around her, looking towards where the hotel once was, but replacing it, there are now walls with scaffolding wrapped around it. Jeez that was fast. She was about to head towards the structure, until the cold touch of claws fell to her shoulders. 

“Nonsense! There has to be something that I could do!"

She shudders from the sudden touch, and turns around to face him. 

“If you insist, do you know Miss Charlie Morningstar? I need to speak to her.” 

His smile widens hearing her question.

“How interesting, I was curious as to why you were over here. Either way I would be happy to introduce you!”

Shadows suddenly encapsulate the two of them. Shivers run through the angel’s back, as she feels the ground pull out from underneath her. However, the falling feeling only lasts a few seconds before she arrives in front of the hotel that was very close to being finished. She admires the new building from afar as golden flashes of magic flourish and create things inside and around it. Her heart stutters at the sight, feeling the growing pit in her stomach, she turns to look for the red-haired demon, only to be faced with no one there. Allowing her eyes to close, she lets out a long sigh as she places two hands onto the back of her neck, rolling out the stress that had formed there. After she hears the crack, she drops her arms to her sides and starts to trek towards the hotel.

On the way there, the sounds of a hopeful song blessed her ears, but she continued her pace and watched as the hotel finished. The new building was massive, truly a sight to behold.  The angel stared in awe. A large array of light fixtures covered it: golden bulbs, neon lights, and several signs pointing to the entrance. Windows lined the sides of the building and along with the towers that were placed towards the front of the building. One of the towers was decorated with a simple apple themed level on the top with the other being a sharper and darker level adorned with antennas similar to antlers. The last thing the angel looked at before she arrived at the front of the new Hazbin Hotel was the large key structure that seemed to be staring down at her. She winced and wanted to shrink underneath the stare but shook it off, looking towards the grand doors of the hotel. 

Alastor and the rest of the group had just walked into their new home, walking up to the bar to celebrate their victory before a knock had sounded at the door. Everyone was suddenly on their guard from the intruding sound with Lucifer being the first to start walking towards the front doors. He wasn’t going to allow something bad happen to his daughter’s hotel. The rest of the group had kept up a few steps behind him, but before Lucifer could step up to the door, he was quickly interrupted with Alastor slipping out of his shadows, to place his hand on the knob and pull it open. 

The angel was about to knock again before the door was pulled open in front of her to be faced with the tall demon once again.

 “Oh there yo-” 

The radio demon interrupted her by walking to her side, leaning forward, and placing an arm around her shoulders to pull her forward. She was quickly pulled along to face Charlie, Vaggie, and the rest of the sinners. The angel was prepared to give them her best smile, greet them, and make the best first impression she could, but this was all quickly put to a halt as she noticed the being in front of them all:

Lucifer.

“I have someone to introduce to you all! This is.. Oh I’m sorry my dear; I don’t believe I ever got your name!”

Alastor turned to look down at her to only see that her face had drained of color, and her eyes were fixated on the fallen angel in front of her. He turned his head to follow her line of sight towards Lucifer; his eyes examined him, and his smirk grew when he saw Lucifer staring at her too. 

His presence caused panic to wash over her, as her breath broke into shaky, short ones. Any sounds that the rest of the group made was drowned out by the loud ringing that sounded in her ears. She froze in this position as time seemed to stand still. Her brain and heart were filled with harsh, overwhelming, conflicting feelings; they were screaming at her to run away or towards him, but her thoughts were interrupted from the voice that her heart longed for. 

“Tsuki?”

[salllzy]

Sal's snippets #1 (hidden in the shadows #1)

Alastor had secrets the same as anyone else, however, he kept his well and truly buried, they were so buried that not even a palaeontologist would be able to find them. Which was how he liked it. Alastor didn't want anyone prying into his past or his family, regardless of who they were. But he was also aware that he couldn't always get what he wanted and that sometimes things went tits up without help. So one day when he found everyone gathered in the lobby staring at a letter from Heaven he was curious, but his curiosity turned to horror when he realised that it was his name on the front of it. He didn't even hesitate to burn the letter. How dare they. They had no right to contact him after all these years, they wanted nothing to do with him when he had been living on Earth and he wanted nothing to do with them. Not now. He was settled in Hell and had no intentions of leaving it, especially not for some pompous idiots who seemed to think they knew better than everyone else.

"Al? What was that about?" The urge to grind his teeth was strong and while he had no desire to answer Charlie's question he knew that he would need to give them something. Otherwise, they would keep prodding and poking until they got the answers that they wanted and he didn't want that. "I have no idea what you mean my deer, but if I would have to take a guess I would say that someone in Heaven wants to reach me! I have no idea why!" The lie fell from his lips easy enough, he had spent his entire life lying about who and what he was and he doubted that it was going to change. He wanted nothing to do with Heaven and he never would, not even his mother could change his mind. But he should have known that Heaven wouldn't give up so easily. ------ A month later a portal from Heaven opened up in the hotel lobby, Charlie had invited the sins and the other Overlords to see the work that she was doing, now that they knew that it was possible for sinners to be redeemed Charlie was eager to get as many demons on board as possible. This meant that everyone noticed the portal opening and more than one of them reached for their weapons in case it was another attack. But Alastor had a sinking feeling in his chest. "Alastor!" His mother stepped out of the portal and for a moment he wanted to tear her to shreds, it would be far kinder for him to kill her than have the citizens of Hell find out about her. He took a step away from her when she went to hug him he ignored the look of pain on her face, a group of angels appeared behind her and he wondered if they were here to try and strong-arm him into going to Heaven. He sincerely hoped that they would be able to deal with the consequences if that was the case. "So this is my grandson." Alastor found himself staring up at an angel with jet-black hair and ice-blue eyes, six massive white wings were behind him and Alastor knew without a doubt that this was Uriel. "Uriel I presume, I would say that it is a pleasure but that would be a lie." He could feel the confusion and uncertainty coming from the inhabitants of the hotel, just as he could feel the barely restrained rage coming from the Sins. He could feel the fear coming from the other Overlords now that they were faced with angels that were far stronger than anything they had faced before. Alastor took a step away from the angels, he had no intention of letting any of them touch him. "We are here to take you home, to Heaven with us." Red eyes moved to the youngest angel of the group, she reminded him of Charlie in a way and if he remembered correctly then her name would be Emily.

"I think not, I am no angel and nor will I ever be." He could feel his hidden wings bristle in annoyance, how dare they think that they are his family, that they can demand anything from him.

"Alastor, baby." His eyes drifted to his mother and wondered what tale had been spun to get her on board, she had to have known that he wouldn't fall for this, that he wouldn't want to be part of the so-called family. "No." Before he had a chance to do anything Uriel rushed forward and grabbed him on his shoulders, a screech of feedback left him as six blood-red wings burst from his back for everyone to view. Wings that were mangled, broken and missing giant patches of feathers. Alastor snarled and shoved the shocked Uriel off him. His eyes were radio dials as he looked at the group, he could feel his joints beginning to snap and elongate as he struggled to control the urge to shift and change.

He could hear the gasps of shock as everyone looked at his wings, he hated it, just as much as he hated having his secrets revealed. Without warning thick black tentacles sprouted from the ground and wrapped around his wings, he didn't buckle under the pain as his tentacles began to violently pull his wings off. He could feel the skin, stretching and tearing as blood began to gush down his back, his nerves were on fire as the bones in the wings were shattered and broken. Not a sound of pain left his lips as with one final, vicious pull a wing was torn off his back.

The blood-red wing was tossed in front of Uriel, but Alastor didn't stop there. One by one his songs were torn off his back, he could feel the air touching the nerves as he fought to stay conscious, he had no intention of showing any of these being just how much pain he was in. One by one the wings were tossed in front of Uriel and the other angels. "There, now you have something that belonged to me. You can leave now." He didn't wait for a response as he disappeared into the shadows and into his room, he was barely able to keep himself conscious as his shadow tended to the gaping wounds his his back. That probably hadn't been the smartest thing he had ever done.