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lurochar · 5 months ago

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Before It All (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Obsessive Alastor. References to racism, sexism, and racist terms

Part 1 + Part 3

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Hell.

So it actually did exist.

The pure elation, raw euphoria, and sheer mania completely overwhelmed Alastor when it finally did sink into him that, yes, he was dead – savagely mauled by a pack of hunting dogs and then shot in the head by an utterly incompetent hunter.

Pathetic.

But Hell, it was real, absolutely truly one hundred percent a reality he was now living and he couldn’t be any more ecstatic that was the case.

(He certainly had a first class ticket).

Because if Hell was real, that meant demons were real and if demons were real…

You were real. You existed.

Alastor had never been a religious person before his encounter with you. He hadn’t really changed his mind afterwards either. God had never done anything for him, so why should he ever bother to devote himself to a being who clearly didn’t give a fuck about him or his Mama?

A demon cared more about him, if only briefly, than Heaven ever did in his lifetime.

You probably had no idea what impact you had on him, you may not even think of him, or even remember him, the kid whose soul you had spared on some sort of whim born from pity.

Alastor obsessed over you.

He had felt cold the moment you had pulled away from him and that chill had never left him – only his Mama’s hugs could temporarily relieve him of the complete indifference he possessed for the world around him.

Ah, his dear Mama.

He never understood it, he still didn’t understand now.

That day, that night was a blessing in his eyes. He had met, if only for a few minutes, the only other person(?), being, other than his Mama, that had actually cared, held any concern for his well being. You had even gone against your demonic instincts and let him keep his soul, just so you didn’t condemn him to Hell.

(He condemned himself, but those were his choices alone).

You had killed a human being for him.

His father was a monster – so why did his dear Mama cry and grieve over the man who had abused them both horribly over the years? Why wasn’t she happy that he was finally gone? She no longer had to endure being hit, slapped, or even worse because of that man’s unpredictable mood-swings.

She could never properly explain it and honestly, Alastor didn’t want to understand that mindset of hers.

Because of you, his Mama could be free of the misery his father put her through. Alastor could take care of her on his own, just as you told him to do.

Because of you, he was free from hearing his father’s muttered insults about his skin – how he might've passed as ‘right’ if his skin was a little lighter.

Those cruel remarks grew more and more frequent and so did the homicidal thoughts Alastor harboured for his father.

If not for the book he found containing old magicks, strange symbols and sigils, and a ritual for summoning demons, Alastor was sure he would have snapped sooner rather than later and would have ended up strangling that drunk waste of life in his sleep.

He would have been caught, no doubt, and put to death. Lynched even.

Who would take care of his Mama then?

But because you had killed his wretch of a father for him, he had been free to grow and pursue his passion for radio. Hunting had become something of a secondary hobby, it was the only thing his father had done him good by – even if the man had only taught him how to track and hunt small game, claiming he wasn’t nearly ‘good enough’ for bigger game.

Well, he could always teach himself.

Alastor had never really preferred any particular type of meat before, always happy to eat whatever his Mama put before him, but when he remembered the tingle on his fingertips, the feel of your soft ears…

He remembered he used a deer skull he found in the forest in the ritual he used to summon you.

Deer.

He probably has eaten venison before, but he honestly could not remember what it tasted like since he just didn’t have a preference then.

He wanted, needed, to learn every detail about that animal.

Alastor really did find the taste of venison to be the most satisfying over any other meat he stripped from the game he hunted. Deer quickly became his favoured target.

He never shot at a doe.

His life was looking rather bright – his career in radio was taking off, he had learned to blend in better, socialize by watching people, and he was frighteningly good at it. He was charming, despite the prejudices and racism, his skin tone and creole heritage didn’t seem to matter much anymore with how successful he was, men and women were clamouring for him in different ways.

It was entertaining to watch.

Still, his homicidal thoughts never left his mind.

Abuse of women by men who were just like his father was rampant and it angered Alastor more than he imagined it would. Only this time, there would be no you to correct things, you were just a lucky break for him.

(And only him. He wouldn’t share you even if he could summon you again).

He’s perfected his hunting skills over the years and hunting humans wasn’t much different, it just took a little longer and a little more patience to assure he wouldn’t be caught.

If there is a Hell, Alastor will burn.

But he doesn’t mind so much, not if he can burn alongside you.

~00~

Is it ironic?

That he is a deer demon too?

From what he has gathered, one’s appearance changes depending on what happened in their human lifetime and how they lived it. Some Sinners have very mundane changes due to mundane sins and deaths.

A traumatic death has a large impact on the soul and being mistaken for a deer and shot dead can certainly be counted as traumatic and impactful.

Alastor is just relieved enough he doesn’t spawn as a dog demon.

Would you be happy he’s a deer like you?

Alastor has to wonder if you would even recognize him, his appearance is quite different from his human one and it has been over twenty years since your encounter.

If there was one thing he regretted about summoning you, it was that he never asked for your name. He had been much too blinded by his rage for his father and his fascination for your ears to even think to ask and he always lamented about it.

Nothing would get done regretting the past, however.

He needed to figure out his new body and the structuring of Hell and how it works before he can even begin to think of looking for you.

He needs to amass power.

Hell, with no doubt, is a dangerous place with powerful demons lurking about. Besides the pure thrill of eliminating those very demons by his own hand, Alastor will assure your safety as long as you stay at his side.

He can pay you back for what you did for him, he can be your saviour this time around, whether you needed one or not.

It’s time to get to work.

~00~

“Another one?”

The man before you shivers at the sound of your voice before giving a shaky nod, looking every which way but you, clearly wanting to leave your presence as quickly as possible.

You couldn’t blame him.

He deserved every second of torment upon his miserable soul.

“I would like for you to go and take a look at this demon toppling Overlords like they’re nothing more than a child’s plaything. You can come back when you have an adequate description of this demon.” You flippantly waved him off.

“Are you fucking kiddin’ me, you little bitch?” The man cursed, his previous meek behaviour gone at the thought of having to go and put himself in danger just so he could get a damn glimpse of whoever this new demon was. There was no fucking way he was doing tha–

A collar materialized around the man’s throat and he lost his footing and his face was smashed into the ground when you abruptly tugged on the chain that materialized at the same time the collar did.

“Did you forget something important?” You stared down at the man in disgust. “If so, let me remind you now. I own you. I own your soul. If I want you to do something, you do it without question. Do you understand, Hartfelt?”

The man, Hartfelt, simply could not keep his mouth shut. “You murdered me in cold blood, you fucking slut! And now you think you can order me around like some dog because you have my soul too? Killing me wasn’t good enough for you? Go back to the kitchen where you belong. Goddamn whore.”

“You made a deal with me. It doesn’t matter if you were newly spawned in Hell and didn’t know how it worked – a deal is a deal. I only took your filthy soul for one thing, otherwise I wouldn’t have touched it with a ten foot pole.” You huffed. “And yes, I can order you around like a dog. It fits your appearance, doesn’t it?”

Hartfelt stood up when you allowed him to, growling like the mutt he appeared to be. “What was that one thing?” He asked, cursing in his mind. If not for that ‘one thing’, he wouldn’t have been under this damn deer bitch’s control for the past twenty plus years.

It's laughable that he has to take orders from a woman.

“I gave your son a pass then, but I saw it in his eyes. I hope I’m wrong, but I do believe Alastor will end up in Hell.” You sighed, glancing over to see pure terror flash across Harfelt’s face. “Figured it out now?”

“You kept me on a chain just so you could give me to that shitskinned boy!?” Hartfelt attempted to lunge forward to unleash his fury on you, but you wouldn’t have it.

You speared your claws into his muzzle and he howled in pain. “Say something like that again about Alastor–no, I’m already tired of your voice. You don’t need that foul tongue to see what this new demon looks like, so I’ll be taking it. I’m sure it will grow back soon enough… if I allow it to.”

No one batted an eye when screams of pain were heard from an apartment before they abruptly stopped.

Hartfelt stood on shaky legs, blood dripping everywhere from his mouth and you didn’t even glance at him. “You know what to do.” You said coldly, waving him off once more and he went without complaint this time around.

Not that he could if he wanted to.

~00~

The Radio Demon.

It wasn’t exactly an original name, but it fit him to a tee, whomever he really was. Hartfelt could never get close enough to get a good look at the Radio Demon and could only give a vague description of the male.

Red. Lots of red. Tall ears maybe? Or a part of his hair, Hartfelt couldn’t be sure. Big, creepy smile with yellowed fangs, and he always carried some sort of cane. His voice was filtered like he was talking on air through a radio.

It was expected, Hartfelt did a crappy job.

It would have to suffice for now, you would rather save Hartfelt for Alastor rather than hearing him scream on the Radio Demon’s broadcasts.

In any other circumstance, that would have been preferred.

You just needed to pay careful attention, it's how you survived Hell unscathed as a prey-based demon thus far.

The Radio Demon’s rampage was coming far too close to the district you lived in for your comfort and you have no idea if the Overlord in charge would be able to hold on to his power or not.

You had to be prepared for any scenario.

Beyond his insane broadcasting of the screaming souls of the Overlords he had conquered, the Radio Demon was almost pleasant to listen to. His voice was definitely made for radio and his taste in music was exceptional (well, considering you had been dead for some number of years, you had no idea how music evolved in the human world).

“This next song is dedicated to the one I hold dearest to me. I have yet to locate you, my nameless Doe, but I do hope you are listening to this.”

Your ears twitched and you opened your eyes in surprise. It was a bit of a shock to hear that the Radio Demon, of all demons, had a lost lover out here in Hell. You had thought he was a sadist through and through.

You supposed some sadists could love too.

(You did hear rumours that Overlords Zestial and Carmilla Carmine were… something, so much was possible in Hell).

“It has been twenty-four years since our last encounter, brief as it may have been. You have been on my mind ever since. If you truly are listening, my nameless Doe, then know the Radio Demon is Alastor Hartfelt.”

You fell off your couch.

No.

No way.

The Radio Demon and Alastor Hartfelt were one and the same?!

“H-he died?” You said out loud to yourself and to no one. ‘It's only been twenty-four years. He… he didn't even make it to forty years!’

What happened!?

Your ears flattened against your head, not sure what to think of this situation.

He held you dearest to him?

You've been on his mind ever since?

Your encounter was brief, barely even five minutes long and somehow, Alastor thought the world of you?

That kid twenty some years back definitely had a screw or two loose and you think you just made the problem worse.

You should not have let him touch you.

You should not have hugged him.

He was an adolescent boy probably starving for positive attention and a soft touch outside his mother and you unwittingly fucked up what normal development he should have gone through.

Well, you couldn't undo the past, but you could try to make up for it by giving Alastor complete control over the man who once controlled him.

You supposed it could be a start.

~00~

He hoped.

But he really expected nothing.

Alastor was rapidly gaining territory, toppling numerous Overlords with his newfound powers within just a year.

Along with wailing souls, Alastor always sent that little message out on his broadcasts, hoping you would hear and respond to him by showing up to the radio tower he built.

But the amount of power he had grown into wasn't enough yet, he could only hijack a portion of Hell’s radio waves at a time, not the entirety of it like he needed to.

You may not have even heard his message.

How irksome.

These were the times he actually craved Mimzy’s company and the atmosphere of her speakeasy.

Mimzy would just keep the whisky flowing until he was intoxicated enough to allow a couple select women a few touches here and there, barely even considered lewd by any means.

Getting drunk was the only way he could handle those touches without flinching or feeling a deep need to shatter the other person's hand – an unfortunate side effect of his father's beatings.

Your touch was the only one he longed for.

It only happened a few times, Alastor stopped as soon as Mimzy casually pointed out that he had a clear type, that the few women he chose all had similar traits.

The same hair colour and length, the same eye colour, and the same height.

All features you possessed.

Back then, the last thing Alastor had wanted was to end up drunk in some random woman's bed calling out for you, ‘my Doe’. Rumours of that nature just wouldn’t be good for his image and career.

And really, saying that whilst in bed with another was just plain weird.

Alastor would have to find a decent bar here in Hell, he could use a drink to take the edge off.

A chirp catches his attention.

His shadow, a magick he has just recently begun to delve deep into, chitters at him and Alastor raises a brow and tilts his head, his smile remaining in place despite his bewilderment.

A guest?

A guest at his radio tower?

Could it possibl–?

Hope, but expect disappointment.

~00~

You're nervous.

(Why?)

You just want to turn around and run.

(Why?)

The Radio Demon and Alastor Hartfelt may be one and the same, but the Alastor you met was just barely on the cusp of manhood, someone so trapped by his shitty situation that he was desperate enough to summon a demon of all things to get him out of it.

He was extremely lucky he had gotten you, very few demons, if any, would have let him keep his soul.

You didn't know Alastor anymore. He was the Radio Demon now, a being quickly becoming infamous and feared for his ruthlessness.

If this was a trick to lure you here, you just hope Alastor has it in him to spare you like you did him.

You tense and your ears and tail stand straight up when you can feel and hear static before he speaks.

“How I've missed your wonderful ears, my nameless Doe.”

What a peculiar greeting.

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Sorry, thought it would be fun to end it here. Part 3 soon.

Tags: @alishii @yourdoorisunlocked @godsent69 @eris-norwega @catticora @tayraedoll @michi-keinz @martinys-world

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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art-from-within · 8 months ago

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ER hc: Demigods in Love

(TW its long. Long.)

If they had a big fat crush on you and fell in love with you, they wouldn't say it outright at first but there would be signs

Morgott:

He becomes more catty-chatty. He usually cloaks his feelings of extreme self loathing(leading him to believe he deserves nothing and distance himself from things that bring joy, fear of rejection etc) with a rain of sour quips and old age scoldings, a technique he would definitely utilize all the same(and fail horribly) to suppress new trifling emotions arising within him, feelings he dare not indulge in for his own sake and everyone else's.

But despite his harsh words and taunts, the fact is not missed on you, that he is there. He is there, and for all his talk of finding you so lowly, he bothers to address you and your 'meager flame'

"I see thee little tarnished," he will say "smould'ring with that wretched flame of ambition" he will repeat this often, but the emphasis on 'little' changes with time. It is those little things, those minute slip ups, that itches a part of your brain.

Malenia:

She becomes more stiff around you. She is already taciturn enough, but around you she becomes stiffer than every statue in haligtree combined. But in those rare moments when she does address you, her voice becomes more softer than usual. Sometimes you catch her head nodding towards you gently. Other times you find her standing guard outside your door, though she will refuse to admit it was nothing else but that. Keeping you safe is her love language.

She will also make sure to always have the most fresh med needles stuck in her before she ever steps foot into your vicinity. Anything to make sure you don't get even the slightest WHIFF of her rot...poor valkyrie. She really tries.

Mohg:

He becomes more...clingy. And by clingy I meant he stalks you (a mogh classic).

He isn't audaciously obvious with it, no he is never obvious with anything. But as I said, there are signs. Bushes and trees seem to rustle more than usual. Warm beverages left on your table with no owner in sight, roses blooming during the wrong seasons and WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT??? Somebody who is TOTALLY NOT MOHG just healed your student rune debts?? Ahh! Good heavens!!! Who could have done this??? Definitely not the rich demigod omen who lives 2 broken buildings away that seemingly always knows when you need a heat pad hmmmm

Despite all this though, it seems this amount of clinginess is inversely proportional to the lines of dialogue he will spare you i.e. the harder he falls for you, the more he stalks and the less he talks (tldr of another hc post, that welcome guest speech of his is totally scripted and he can’t function outside said script). His confidence leaves him when he sees someone he cannot risk losing. He also love bombs you, with all intentions meant. Anything material, you have it. Its almost like he can read your mind (he is in your bloodstream).

He functions on the mindset that nothing in this world is selfless, and that love can only be bought and not earned. He 'bought' the love of his sanguine nobles through promise of power...he straight up kidnaps his 'doctors', who now love him(they are all mad with bloodlust). The albinaurics are there (for miquella). He is truly convinced that he cannot be loved without reason, so he does all this extra crap to cook up said reasons. Local omen has yet to discover consent out of the shunning grounds. Maybe u can change him 👍or make him worse.

Godwyn:

He gives you golden privileges….Godwyn wouldn’t outright confess his love for you on first sight, but I imagine he would be the SECOND (Rykard being first) most forthright man in this sea of bashful tsundere personages. Aside from his flirtiness increasing by 10 folds, He will let you ride Fortisaxx. Must I even elaborate further? There are noble men in Leyndell who would sell their cock and balls for that opportunity, but he straight up goes “hey you wanna ride my dragon” wink. Fortisaxx is best wingman, drops hints to help his brother/friend/(lover?😏) out. Considering he has a whole lineage, and i really doubt the omen twins received any action in the lore, he is the most experienced when it comes to love, and he has learned the best way to deal with it is just be chill.

Bonus points if you catch him drunk, the comedy you would play witness to would be legendary.

Godrick:

He will let you touch him. …

Pre grafted Godrick:

would be a total tsundere straight up. He has 0 confidence in himself, and his old and wrinkly ass has only known rejection by that point to not have any qualms about confessing. Throw in an odd sense of aristocratic pride into the mix and you have got a noble who looks and acts like he is competing his way into a guillotine. He is quite rude, and if he is got a single talent up his sleeve, it is without a doubt his ability to drive anyone into a frenzy(no three fingers needed) with his snarky quips alone. He is physically not up there, but by words alone he could burn bridges (and he has). Perhaps he gets this talent from his great great great great great great great great great grand uncle who, rumors say, also rules over Leyndell! He is a small crooked paranoid little freekle frackle that clings onto what we would call Ancien régime mindset and lifestyle

Given this context, the first sign that something is awry is that he lets you be near his viscinty. He is still snarky, with all the thou-s and thee-s sprinkled in. But he lets you near him. Hmm that’s odd. You thought Ettiquette 6600038 stated no non royal was allowed to walk beside him-OH and he is staring right into your soul. Thats also weird. You thought he hated the commonfolk? Did he just hold your hand? Granted he was terrified by the lightening, but still…hm… and he just tried cooking for the first time?? Ended terribly he burnt the kitchen down. He did all that for himself he says…you hear a “yea right” from a very brave soldier of godrick, never to be seen again. He gives you a suspiciously customized hankerchief, embroidery of (insert your fav flower here) when you catch a cold. Never asks for it back.

Post grafted Godrick is mostly the same, but more crazy with a 10% increase in confidence. For one, its been 24 hours and he has yet to tear you apart from limb to limb which is something. “Unfit for grafting” he says. yea right.

...

He also shows you his gore Godfrey goon shrine, your quality of life depends on the tone of your laugh. He lets you bathe him (wow you touched him…or some dude’s entire torso which he stole.) and Gostoc doesn’t fuck with you like he does with others. Good. Good. He trusts you enough to complain abt some tantalizing trespasser omen loitering infront of his castle named ‘Margit’. Which sounds awful lot like Morgott. He hasn’t clicked the dots and he most likely never will.

Radahn:

He lets you ride Leonard.

Radahn is the type of guy who is beyond friendly with anyone, so when he does something which would so obviously be labelled affectionate coming from others, it is generally dismissed as an act of friendship. He remembers your birthday and holds a surprise party which is VERY COOL, but he also hosts birthday parties for everyone else….which is also cool… He suffers through the friendzone for a while with grace.

But when he offers you a ride on his dear Leonard, that darling steed of his that he treats like his heir apparent? Yup, that very horse, is when the gears in your mind unclog. His highness Prince Leonard has always been a boundary none dare cross, but here he is granting you a safe passage to jump right through. He lifts you up with ease, and places you on the saddle. And when you smile, he smiles even wider. Signs eventually bubble up to the surface. He laughs more often around you, completely at ease. When drunk he regails you with tales of bygone heroes and his own aspirations to be one. Reply with “but you already are one” and you will catch him lag for 5 seconds.

He keeps you close by during expeditions, and even during social gatherings. He uses his gravity magic to help you/your siblings indulge in some 0 gravity fun. And during less crowded evenings, he arranges fun getaways with friends, except its just you two this time...and here on out. Oddly enough though, the closer he gets to you the more you find yourself isolated at your job etc. You start finding your posts more empty. Which is odd since you did remember there were 2 other people assigned at this pla- AND its general Radahn with 2 roasted exalted flesh in hand! Wonderful.

One can only speculate how he uses his powers as head general...

Bonus point if you like cats. He will bring his cats for a wash to your house (another excuse to see you)

Ranni:

She spills tea.

This one is easy since we have in game canon content as reference. At first she is secretive. She introduces herself as "renna", and maintains a professional distance. But as time passes and she comes to warm up to you, that distance is chipped away by her own doing. She confesses to her many well hidden secrets, dark secrets like how she played a hand in the night of black knives or her more lesser secrets like stealing her mom's books, giving young Radahn a bobcut in his sleep, mischiefs with Rykard etc. Her trust in you, that you will keep her word between you two, is the sign. Anytime the topic steers towards anything remotely romantic though, she transforms into a bashful tsundere

"Noooo don't open that box from that chamber in this location you don't want to marry me noooo" (gives you the key to that box). Also "take not the ring from this place, the solitude beyond the night is better mine alone." Is code word for "please marry me I am very lonely".

Rykard:

ОНОНОНО

Pre Snake Rykard:

He shows you his sex dungeon

Yea. The most forthright admirer award goes to! PRAETOR RYKARD! Rykard seems like the type of guy who has this very thick professional exterior, that betrays his true perverse nature. You sit down with him and think

"wow, what a well rounded individual! Yes he is rough around the edges, but he dresses nice, he speaks well, he looks lordly enough albeit dark circles, he is good with machines (he doesn’t tell you that he names them 'abductor virgins' 💀) hmm surely he isn't some perverted freak with dungeons and torture rooms in his house"

and then he offers you a tour of his house and peels off his skin like a snake fresh out of hibernation and every fibre of your being tells you to run as fast as u can. Think Tywin Lannister but it's obvious somebody's been slipping drops of mercury into his coffee. His stern facade hides a lecherous mind

It would go something like this. He is wearing his tywin lannister inspired drip, while riding his very high horse. He bothers to look down from his very high horse at which point he sees you. Double take. He approaches you with the confidence of an absolute slut, but its coated with enough regal varnish to make them barely acceptable in public. Something like "Good evening Fair lady/good sir, I see thou art unchaperoned this low in the evening. May we escort you somewhere safe?". You don't really understand what he is getting at first, until he offers to give you a tour of his beautiful rich and lavish manor. And like, he isn't lying. It's beautiful. It's rich. It's lavish. On top of a fucking volcano? It’s always the fucked up bitches with tastes like look at Mohg?! 10/10 (I had rank him second to Mohg in dripmaxxing). But the deeper you venture into his abode, the crazier the tour becomes. And then you watch this man peel his layers of civility strata by strata, with each new chamber easing him into his true self until ultimately what is left is a crazed man with a crazed look pointing at a literal dungeon with very suggestive toys. Tanith is there.

The pros though is that he is a good lover, and father. Stressing on Father, because you are gonna make him one. (Magic world if you are a male reader. Anything is possible)

Post Snake Rykard:

Ooooohhh togethhhaaaaaa we prossspeeerrr untuu eterniteeeeeeeee become fameeelee?

( he is giving you a choice which is a show of love. Choose your next words very carefully)

Godfrey:

He lets you dress his scars.

He recognizes that familiar feeling of love, and his age and experience has taught him that fighting it will be more painful, so he just lets it be instead. Despite his bloodlust and barbarism, which resurfaces here and there, he is surprisingly courteous in casual settings. Being married to a goddess you find out, is a lonely existence. Is there any love between the two? Questions that will storm your mind as you do good on the honor of dressing his wounds. You can feel the eyes of his golden beast watching over you. Such an act had intimate undertones back in his homeland. Do you understand?

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Miquella:

He doesn't 'slip' up any 'signs' no he LITERALLY stabs you with it(out of desperation), but you are still oblivious because he looks like your 8 yrs old baby cousin with a bug addiction(Those wings are real y/n)!He tries to appear his real age by snatching every opportunity provided to show the vastness of his mind and wisdom, but ends up giving young Sheldon vibes. He tells you straight to your face that he loves you like "no other", but he just gets swaddled in your lap like a baby. Not enjoying this experience.

Messmer: Don't know anything about him to write 3 paras (for obv) but the vibes he is giving right now is that he is less pookie bear than imagined, and impaling isn't just a hobby but his way of life. Going off of the trailer, I had say if he had a crush on you, he would be as straight forward as Godwyn, but with a more sinister bent. He would let you play with his snakes...maybe burn you deep to leave his mark...?

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