#Overlord of Knowledge

[justhellacesome]

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Inko, Todoroki Shouto, Takami Keigo | Hawks, Todoroki Fuyumi, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Sasaki Mirai | Sir Nighteye Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Go to U.A. High School, no one else knows what Izuku's motivations are, Izuku does not know what Izuku's motivations are, gratuitous amounts of foreshadowing, Gen Work, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku Summary:

Izuku's quirk is simple, it tells him exactly what he needs to do. It tells him to grab an umbrella and that afternoon it rains unexpectedly. It tells him to bring cash and it turns out the card reader is out of order. His quirk tells him to rob a bank. Well, might as well. - - - Does the name All for One mean anything to Izuku? Nope. Will he tear down the empire of a powerful villain who has been terrorizing Japan for over a century anyway? Sure.

[maximura]

[novafire-is-thinking]

Joining a fandom late/during a dry spell is a double-edged sword.

On the one hand, things are pretty chill and there isn’t much of a hurry to consume the newest show or comic.

On the other hand, the chance of establishing oneself as the expert on certain characters is slim to none.

[pyrotechnicdarts]

ive just had a revelation give me a day to gather some screenshots ill make the best rodimus + prowl + getaway meta post ever. dont hold me to that though

[solosart]

Yvenrose, a prince who accidently summoned a demon and then accidently married said demon. Whoops!

[thrassisfras]

The fact that I went into that first conversation with Gortash completely blind and he somehow managed to be the one that almost convinced me to side with him is just wild to me. Gwydion had been incredibly resistant to anyone (even his partner) trying to get him to be just a little power-hungry, but then Gortash came along and started talk about unity and stability instead of "we're gonna be evil and rule the world" and it was working on Gwydion.

My only thought during the coronation scene was "damn, he really does know Gwydion"

[askfreedumbland]

It's a dumb ask, but what's your favourite state?

That is a very... loaded question.

They're here.

No no, don't leave us all hangin.

She's right. Why don't ya go ahead and answer. Which one of us is your favorite?

We're waiting.

(Good luck, Alfred.)

[warhammer-fantasy-muses]

Qhi'zhek as an MMORPG player:

[xeansicemane]

I think what's fascinating about this whole Unity debacle is how clear it makes something.

The entire C-suite of every company on earth are idiots.

That's not hyperbole, they are people serially uninterested in becoming informed and constitutionally incapable of hearing they're wrong about something. They build a thick shell of unreality and assure themselves they can direct any human venture even if they know nothing of how the enterprise in question works or how its' customers interact with it.

They had it. They were THE tool for learning to build games and even worked for larger projects. Producers and consumers alike knew Unity as a trusted albeit occasionally teased household name.

And they fucked their institutional trust like a university of Florida fraternity pledge strung out on something called "gator blood" fucks a supermarket turkey.

And it isn't even just Unity - look at Twitter, the smoking ruin of something once synonymous with the digital commons. It isn't just Twitter - look at grocery prices.

Our "business leaders", our "movers and shakers" don't know what they're doing. An MBA is taken as a stand-in for competence and knowledge. Because the neo-feudal overlords can never hear no.

The enshittification continues.

[geekyfannerd]

I personally find this a shit take. People made chatGPT and people choose to use it.

I'm sorry but people getting butt hurt about other people posting things on the internet that has nothing to do with them and hurts nobody is the oldest most boring reaction ever.

People write fic for free. If someone feels they would like to collaborate with an AI to do so they can do that. You can't stop them. Sorry.

I have used AI to help beta writing and fiction, it was helpful and what I needed in order to feel comfortable posting as a person living with dyslexia learning to write 20 years later than everyone else.

I also experimented with getting it to write a whole fic.

And it was the worst thing I had ever read. ChatGPT and other AI are still very shit. But as someone who has an obsessive neurotype I can't wait until I can get an AI to write me 20 versions of the same pairing and kinks, exactly the way I like it, because I've already read everything on AO3 for that rare-pair. That would be a dream. But we are definitely nowhere near that yet.

Even when I tried to get an AI to write just one chapter after I had already written 8000words as a starting block, I still had to rewrite the entire thing because it was failing to maintain internal logic and was just bad.

It was obviously written by AI because the grammar was perfect but the fic made little sense and was the worst fic I had ever read, including years of reading "this is my first fic"s.

I have been a visual artist since I was a child and every single piece of art I have ever posted here or anywhere else has been downloaded and reposted by others on other sites. When you make your work public on the internet people can and will take it and do as they please, including feeding it into their AI script.

I'm not saying that it's ethical, but getting mad about it is like getting mad at the rain. I hope you find it cathartic.

If what is happening is enraging you, maybe the internet isn't somewhere you can be chill.

Saw my first post with someone admitting they used chatGPT to ‘write a fic’ which they then shared here on tumblr and on Ao3.

To be clear, using AI to churn out a piece of fiction is not writing.

Using a bot (possibly one that was trained using a scrape of Ao3, that is to say, the theft of work from every writer who has posted their work on Ao3) is NOT WRITING.

It is theft. It isn’t creation. It’s a regurgitation of the consumed collective work and effort and heart and time of every writer who has shared their work on Ao3.

‘I’m not a good writer’ is no excuse.

Want to be a writer? Put in the time everyone else does to practice.

Don’t feel confident in your work? Open yourself up to the same vulnerability and risk that the rest of us do.

You don’t get to use a fucking bot to vomit out an approximation of a story and pretend you’ve got skin in the game.

The sad thing? This bot-assembled fic wasn’t bad. It was bland, but it had internal logic, some passing context to character and canon. It wasn’t like those early AI art pieces that had surreal compositions and extra fingers. It wasn’t immediately obvious it was made by a bot.

In this instance the person who posted it admitted they had used a bot. Which, actually, I have some respect for. But it probably isn’t the first and it won’t be the last.

I don’t know that there’s a solution to this, but it is both hurting my heart and enraging me.

[celtrist]

This was the piece that I had started before my extensive vacation (of coughing). Once again, Alastor is consistently the bane of my existence with his... well everything.

No matter! Anyway, this is something I like to call the Obsession AU. To sum it up real fast: Everyone is yandere for Alastor. I think it would just be apart of his punishment in Hell, being consistently forced into or desired in romantic/sex which he's never had much interest in. I would describe it as a dark comedy thing, but it can be as comedic or as dark as you want here. With that said, please be on guard with any mentions of darker content that treds towards a certain dead bird territory when I get a bit into how I imagine some of the characters. Again, it doesn't have to go that far if you're interested in this premise of an au and wanna focus on the more light hearted stuff, feel free.

This au is just poking a bit of fun at how everyone in the fandom wants to put Alastor in romantic situations constantly (whether it be with themselves or the other characters) despite Alastor probably being the least interested in the subject in the whole show. This is by no means a hate train or making fun of people who do enjoy shipping Alastor, it just more of a funny thing I think comes off as pretty ironic for his character and hopefully, others can enjoy that too. In this au he leans pretty much on the clear-cut side of aromantic and asexual with no interest in romantic affections at all. With that said, if you want to explore Alastor genuinely being interested in one of the other characters romantically or something similar, feel free to explore that! I can see some interesting dichotomies there. It's just within the actual "canon" of this au, he's not at all interested with that sort of thing. And just with a last final reminder to get into some character things I have in mind, some of the content mentioned does get pretty dark, particularly with Valentino but I don't think anyone's surprised there. But there might be some triggering content of the following mentioned here with characters but no crazy details really: Manipulation/Gaslighting, forced feminization, Non-con, Munchausen syndrome, Poisoning, Possessive, Drugging, Love bombing And I will be sure to give a quick warning to each character it might apply to, please feel free to let me know if I missed anything!

Rosie (Munchausen syndrome, Poisoning): Rosie has 100% poisoned Alastor before to make sure he relies on her. They started off as good friends but at some point Alastor began getting ill and Rosie offered to take care of him. This leads to Alastor staying in bed for full days, only really seeing Rosie who took care of his every need from food, clothing, washing, and so on. At some point, Alastor caught on that Rosie was putting something in his food to make him sick and he managed to escape with their friendship tarnished much to his dismay. He's often uneasy around Rosie but is upfront about his knowledge of Rosie's deeds. Rosie, in turn, acts like it is a lighthearted situation and often offers Alastor over for lunch, which he often denies. Any food he gets at his doorstep from a secret admirer or a lunchbox he finds at his seat in an overlord meeting goes straight into the trash. Alastor will still use Rosie's assets to his benefit of course, but is always careful as to what she might try to get in exchange. He has had more awkward lunches with her with his homemade meal versus the buffet she catered for the occasion, with the two gossiping like old times. Alastor is still uneasy during these times, but he also revels in the false pleasantries due to not having many others he's able to associate himself with due to the curse.

Lucifer (Controlling, Possessive, Manipulation): So I'm not 100% clear how I wanted to approach Lucifer. He and Charlie are probably the most similar I suppose? He wants Alastor as his queen (either alongside him and Lilith or only with him, he doesn't mind either way). He doesn't force him into dresses or anything, but Lucifer does consistently make doting moves and talks about how Alastor would make a good father to their children. Marriage is one of the mind and Lucifer probably gets a bit possessive with him. He also tries to guilt trip Alastor a lot, or manipulate situations in one of their arguments to get Alastor to say something he doesn't mean.

Charlie (Controlling, Possessive): Probably the most tame of everyone quite honestly. Charlie can be a bit controlling but does step off when Alastor expresses his dislike of her doing so, even if it takes a couple times. She likes doing things for him, is super affectionate, and daydreams about her, Vaggie, and Alastor all getting married. She can get pretty possessive with him, not being pleased when anybody does anything against Alastor's will or hurt him. The only exception to this rule is Vaggie, to which Charlie sees it like two cats getting along and finds it very endearing.

Vaggie (Forced Feminization, Controlling, Murder): Depending on how you look at it, Vaggie's one of the more fucked up obsessions or one of the more funnier ones. Because she's automatically inclined to like Alastor quite a bit with the curse thing but her personality doesn't jive with his for her own taste (in terms of their first meeting), she both hates and loves the guy. She's obsessed with trying to murder Alastor with traps around the hotel or outright standing over him with her spear. The hatred comes primarily from not wanting to feel the way she does about him, I guess like a fucked up tsundere if you wanna go that route. At the same token, however, she does want Alastor to be involved with both her and Charlie romantically. There's just one little problem: Vaggie has about the same amount of interest in men as she does in canon. So to sort of "fix" Alastor, she consistently tries to force him to be more feminine in clothing, offering different feminine names, and even trying to force him to get a sex change. Alastor is pretty slippery though, so it never quite works out in Vaggie's favor aside from the occasional dress or skirt being worn, which solidifies her attraction to him. Then he takes it off and looks more like a man again, and it solidifies her frustration/hatred for him.

Angel Dust (Drugging): To start, while I think Angel would love to have sex with Alastor, he 100% would not force it. Wouldn't even do touches or anything. Potentially he could just like as a coping (to be in a situation where HE'S the one in control), but that is a darker route that I don't think will be exactly true for this AU. However, he very much enjoys drugging Alastor similar to Rosie. Not only just as a bonding thing since Angel would also do the drugs WITH him, but just to get the not-quite-lucid compliments from Alastor and maybe a snuggle then and there. He wants to dote on Alastor with him drugged out in his bed saying nice things to Angel. Admittedly this one's a bit of a workshop as I just knew I didn't want Angel to be focused on sex like somebody, but wasn't sure what to do here.

Valentino(Non-con, LoveBombing): I mean... it is Valentino, what did you THINK he'd be trying to do with Alastor? There's really not much to say here, Valentino essentially tries pulling all the stops trying to get Alastor in bed while also love-bombing the hell out of him. Which really doesn't work. Valentino is pretty open with sharing Alastor, but again, does this surprise anyone? As long as he's participating in some way, he really doesn't mind.

Vox (ALL warnings): Pretty much the worst version of himself that people make him be sometimes for those darker stories in the fandom. While more interested in having an enthusiastic partner, I don't think Vox would be opposed to forcing himself onto Alastor. He consistently tries to manipulate and gaslight, while enjoying both the suffering and pleasure of Alastor. Much like Vaggie, Vox is obsessed both being in love with Alastor while also downright hating him to the core. He's possessive and likes the idea of being both sweet and heinous with Alastor. He pretty much is every other character wrapped up in one fucked up TV man. Vox acts the most well-adjusted of the characters here, but he's probably got the obsession the worst.

And of course, pretty much every other conceivable ship is up for grabs here. I did think about maybe unfallen angels are able to resist the obsession curse, which would possibly make a funny team-up of Alastor, Adam, Lute, and Emily. Alternatively, I thought maybe the other canonically asexual characters in the show wouldn't be affected instead, meaning another oddball team-up of Alastor, Octavia, and Mammon. Then there is of course the "nope, there's no escape for deer man". Not sure yet, maybe I'll workshop it. I have more normal things in the works rather than this messed up little au, but darker content is a guilty pleasure of mine.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism

Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader

When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before

He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it

Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze

Mmmmmm glazed hearts

Great now he's hungry

ANYWAYS-

Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside

Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him

"Mm...good morning my dear..."

Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel

You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown

You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting

You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes

Just. No.

Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath

"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."

How can he say no to you?

He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair

The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌

He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT

Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping

WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN

Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo

You're so good to him how did you know he needed this

Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering

He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat

Though he pretends it's a big hassle

He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him

Bby boy that's all you do is think about him

He locks the door on your way out tho

Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child

You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you

"Alastor..."

Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice

When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you

He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for

"Look at me, darling~"

Okay maybe just a quick glance-

Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-

Ffffffffuck.

Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes

Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek

Not his tail fluttering

"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."

And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell

Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him

Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too

But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came

He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic

Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-

If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down

Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears

Wakes up drooling

Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent

How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????

Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??

When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone

The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways

The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him

You spoil him

Alastor thinking of his wife:

[diurnalvl]

the real reason why velvette had to go to the overlord's meeting is that the other two are even more insufferable;

vox gets wayyy too into his presentation (see: climbing onto chairs and sparking), at once mansplaining and assuming advanced knowledge, resulting in getting extremely wound up when the other overlords aren't as impressed as he wants them to be.

valentino comes with a packed lunch and a body cam, with explicit instructions to shut the fuck up. he sits with the automatic powerpoint that vox prepared playing until he gets bored and starts saying whatever to tick the other overlords off. he singlehandedly wins the idgaf war.

funnily enough, the body cam footage is the most useful, but the other vees are deeply aware that someone will actually murder val one day.

[bizlybebo]

mark and the overlord definitely had at least something going on okay. it wasn’t even romantic because i’m sure mark hated the guy and overlord was fully aware of it but they were definitely this whole like. dog on chain dynamic. both aware of the distaste but mark needed to keep working for him and ended up more and more devoted despite his grievances. they tooootally had the most fucked up dynamic ever

can i say something crazy

[multifandomfanatic02]

"My Little Partner in Crime."

pairing : father!Alastor x daughter!reader

synopsis : you spent nearly 80 years by your father's side without him knowing who you truly were. Don't you think it's about time you told him the truth? Would he despise you?

warnings : weep bitches.

word count : 3,106

          It had been 76 years since she had passed. Yet she remained in the body of a 15 year old girl. In hell, of course no one aged. Not many child sinners were often found in Hell but she was special. While she wasn't an overlord, she was a brilliant mind behind one.

           In life, [Y/N] felt she had been misplaced in the world. So many terrible things had happened at such a young age. She got by though. Through learned methods and maybe a little bit of her genes had helped too.

            She was orphaned at the age of 10 years old. Father died before she was born and mama fell severely ill when she was 10. It was an unfortunate circumstance for such a young child to be in, however it only got worse from there. After both parents had died, she ended up in a very poor fostering system. In which none of the children were treated right. It was so much worse for her.

             [Y/N] was the daughter of an infamous serial killer in Louisiana. Which did not look good to potential foster parents. If her father was a fucking psychopath, what would she be like? In a way, they weren't far off in their speculations. And they proved to be right later on.

            Her mother didn't find out about the love of her life's deeds until he was pronounced dead one eventful night. Gunshot to the head in the midst of burying his own victim. Regardless of what was said about the man, she still loved him all the years after before falling to her own demise. It wasn't like he was a crazed monster, in fact, he likely saved more people than he killed. He only went after the worst of the worst.

            It was obvious that the man loved his wife more than life itself. More than his job. It saddened her knowing that he would never get to meet his daughter. Children were never planned or even talked about between the two considering sex was kind of a sensitive topic for the both of them and for different reasons. So the one time they decided to 'experiment' she ended up conceiving. Funny enough, 6 weeks later was when he died. Neither parents had knowledge of [Y/N] presence yet.

          [Y/N] was scorned throughout the entirety of her foster community. Not for anything she did, no no. But for something her father did. No one wanted her. Regardless, she was happy that she was on her own in a way. Her 4 years in foster care were quite peaceful.

            It wasn't until she was 14 that she had been finally picked out of the system. An old man, maybe in his fifties, had come to get her. The fostering system, not wanting her to continue her stay any longer, kept their dealings with him under wraps so everything stayed out of legal documents.  [Y/N] wasn't adopted, no, she was to become his wife and to bear several of his children. Figures. What else would a man like him want in a child. Women were still known as the caretakers at the time. Nobody in this day and age was evolved like her father whom treated her mother like a queen when they were alive.

            Thankfully it never got too bad before she decided to take her fate into her own hands. She was an avid reader. Her favorite things to read were the medical books found in her room when she was in the system. So she eventually learned a thing or two. It started off with a crushed pill in his drink every morning to stave off his libido. So he was never in the mood to touch her. (Don't ask where she gets the medication, it's a secret.)

               Wearing him down slowly every day and night for the next year before his untimely death. An insulin overdose. It'd be like he died in his sleep. During an autopsy, no one would even know. She grinned ear to ear, feeling the man's pulse disappear from his neck. She took a breath before calling 911 in a faked panic tone. Convincing actually. "Hello? I n-need help. My husband isn't b-breathing, I think he may be dead. Please come save him! He can't die! I love him!" She managed to force tears from her eyes.

             Ultimately, he did indeed pass away and she was finally on her own. I guess it wasn't a totally bad set up since his property, belongings, and money went to [Y/N]. It was short lived, unfortunately. All that money that went to ballrooms and jazz music. It was paradise and worth every penny she thought. Only to die at the age of 15 from an infected fox bite. (Random, right? Just like dad's lol)

           [Y/N] had been in Hell for 76 years. She wasn't well known unlike her companion. Sticking to the man like glue after all this time. She worked well with the Radio Demon. Their minds complemented each other very well. Almost to a point of familiarity. When she first arrived in Hell, it was like she had made a big boom in the talk of the town. She was a mastermind and very talented at killing and pranks. It sparked a lot of the overlords' interest, especially since she wasn't interested in becoming an overlord herself. All she wanted was to enjoy her dark and very humorous afterlife. [Y/N] of course declined all their business proposals, even the famous Vox.

             There was one she couldn't turn away from. He was charming and the two immediately had an unbreakable connection. The connection itself was unreadable but it was there nonetheless. He made a deal with her, promising absolute protection from the exterminators and other overlords and in turn she would help with his dealings. It was a fair trade, the Radio Demon was a bit impulsive with his actions while [Y/N] methodically planned all her own dealings 30 steps ahead. And with her being 15, well, she was thought to be an easy target.

              It was actually strange, they look alike too. The same color scheme, same nose and eyes. Both shared that constant shit-eating grin and composure. The only difference between them being that he's an elk demon while she, a fox demon. It was literally just the tail, antlers, and hairstyle that set them apart.

               Overtime, the radio demon, opened up to her piece by piece. Alastor, that was his name. It didn't take to long for her to come to the realization that he was in fact her beloved father that her mom talked about oh so much. It was clear. It wasn't just their appearance but mannerisms that were so similar. Her name being the same as his mothers surely didn't help either. He thought nothing of it. Alastor didn't know, he was too oblivious to anything that wasn't himself. And up to now, it never felt like the right time to tell him, so it's been a secret.

            Turns out she wasn't the only one to have this realization. Carmilla Carmine along with many other overlords figured it out before even she. Carmilla being a mother herself felt empathy for her and talked to her whenever she needed it. Rosie found a deep love for [Y/N] herself, acting as a mother figure as well. The little darling was just like her bestie, Alastor, how could she not? Other overlords weren't as reasonable and often threatened to use the knowledge as a weapon against her. What would Alastor think? Did he ever want a child? Would he stray away from her if he found out? Often enough, the overlords who threatened her ended up without their lives by her hands by the end of the day.

         Seventy-six years, Alastor had kept [Y/N] by his side every step he took. It wasn't until his powerful fight with Vox that he decided to step away. He disappeared for 7 years without notice. It broke her heart into a million pieces but just like before in life, she marched on and kept her promise to him.

           It wasn't until news arrived in Pentagon city about this Hazbin Hotel that she'd heard Alastor's name after so long. He was working as the host of the hotel. It wasn't often [Y/N] showed emotion but this time she couldn't hold it in, tears streamed down her face. Her sturdy smile began to slowly break apart. It seemed her father was her weakness. While he didn't want to admit it, it was mutual. He left without saying a word to avoid seeing her disappointment in those little eyes of hers. He didn't want her see him so weak. In a way, he subconsciously felt he had some kind of responsibility over her.

            The walk to the hotel was nerve-wracking for [Y/N]. Seeing him after all this time felt bittersweet. She was excited of course but she was awfully upset about his random disappearance.

Knock, knock, knock

        The Princess of Hell had opened the door, to her surprise to see a red and black fox demon with a huge smile on her face. Charlie was suddenly having a flash of deja vu. Where else has she seen this before? In any case, it wasn't the most obvious thing to pop out at her. This girl was a child. There shouldn't be a child in Hell, whose cruel idea was it to send her down here Charlie thought.

          "Princess Charlotte, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is [Y/N]." She bent down pulling her dress between her fingers to greet her.

           "Just call me Charlie! It's nice to meet you too! Are you here to stay in the hotel? If so we would love to have you here with us. Especially someone as cute as you." Charlie reached out to pinch the young demon's cheeks before composing herself.

           "I actually am, among other things. I was hoping I could be of service to you." Charlie sat questioning her proposal for a second.

             "I'll gladly accept any help I can get but love, you are a child, don't you want to focus on going to heaven and get out of this place?" Charlie bent down to her level and took the girl's hands in her own.

              "Don't let her age fool you, my dear. She is a very capable demon. In fact, better than most overlords I know." The familiar radio static voice tickled [Y/N] ears as Alastor materialized behind Charlie. He smiled genuinely as he held out his arms, waiting for her embrace. Tears suddenly streamed down as she ran into his arms. The two holding onto each other as if one of them would disappear forever.

               "I apologize for my sudden departure, darling. I hope you know that I would never leave you willingly. It was the only way I could keep my side of the deal." He stroked her hair in attempt to calm her sobbing. She couldn't say anything, she had already forgiven him a while back. Alastor couldn't do anything to make her hate him.

               "Alastor aren't you going to introduce us? Who's this sweet thing?" Angel dust walked to the doors to join him and Charlie. The rest of the sinners in the lobby following suit.

              "I guess you could say she is my partner in crime. This little darling has been by my side for nearly 80 years. I owe a lot of my victories to her truth be told." Everyone stood around confused, expecting a different answer. There's absolutely no way she could JUST be his partner they look too much ali-

             "Al, is that.. is that all she is?" [Y/N] sent vaggie daggering eyes as a warning not to continue her statement. Getting the hint, Vaggie backed off and went to sit on the couch in the center of the room. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."   

              "Hey [Y/N], it's been a few months. How you holding up. Still getting into trouble I hear." Husk gives the fox demon some pats on the head.

               "It's nice to see you again Husker, I would like to thank you for looking out for me these past few years." Her grin grew looking up at the fluffy demon.

             "Just doing what the boss told me." Alastor often had souls he was contracted with look after her in his absence. There wasn't much he could do, but knowing she was safe and sound and thriving eased his cold heart. It wasn't often he found himself tied to someone. But there he was, worried for the safety of someone else. A child no less. It took a while to understand his feelings but he eventually did accept it. He cared about someone other than himself.

               Introductions to the residents went smoothly, all of them having such lively personalities she thought. What an amazing new family to have. Besides missing Mama, this was much better than what she had in life ironic as it is.

           The times were changing and everything felt still, peaceful. [Y/N] had an amazing new family and business. Angel Dust being like an amazing big brother and Charlie like an amazing older sister. However the biggest change was how close she got to Alastor. He insisted her bedroom be near his radio tower so he could watch over her. It was so out of character for the residents that have only known him since he joined the hotel staff.

              She was back to being glued to his hip. Her charm helping to gain more residents with her adorableness. It brought on a whole lot of business deals for the feared radio demon as well. Everything was perfect. Something still weighed on [Y/N]'s heart. Alastor needed to know the truth. Why the two of them have such a strong connection. And why they can't seem to ever let each other go. It's not something easily brought up in conversation. Thankfully, luck was on her side one day during one of their business outings.

           "So.. do we have a deal?" Alastor held his hand out to damaged overlord. The enemy's eyes flickered over to the fox demon, causing a distraction. Long enough for his partner to sneak a gun to the young girl's temple. Her composure stabled, a smile creeping on her face.

            "Before I agree to this deal, you are going to hear me out. Or my partner here will end the little girl's life. And you'll be pickingup brain matter off the ground." Alastor's eye twitched, returning his hands to the top of his cane. His expression eased back into his typical smile, seeing her unfazed by the imminent threat.

         "Fine. What do you want?" The man smiled seeing Alastor accept his conditions.

           "[Y/N]. I want the girl." The Radio Demon's breath hitched in his throat upon hearing the request. Never. Never in a million years, he thought. "You see that BITCH had me killed. Secretly drugging me for a year. Didn't think I would have noticed, huh? She never payed for it, she never had to answerfor her crime. Got her out of that shithole of a foster care and this is what I get?"

            He forcibly grabbed the collar of her prim and proper dress, picking her up to his face. Her ears folded to the back of her head, scowling at the man now. "You were going to make me a child bride."

         "You are a woman. You do what I say. If you don't accept my proposal, I'll tell daddy here your little secret. Won't he be surprised." Her eyes turned red at his words, both her and Alastor, in his demon form, shoving an arm through the man's chest in unison. All he felt in that moment was fear, dying for a second time.

            It took a second for the man's words to process in Alastor's head. Secret? What secret? He didn't want to pry but it was obviously tearing [Y/N] up inside. Her expression said it all. All he wanted was to know she was okay. It was time to let him know. And whatever decision he made, she was going to be okay with.

           "There's something I need to tell you."

           "Darling, you don't have to tell me anything if you are not comfortable. That fuck was just trying to get under your skin." And it worked.

             "No. You need to know." [Y/N]'s lip began to quiver in fear. Scared she was suddenly going to be a disappointment. How could she keep this a secret for so long. He had the right to know. Now. "My name is [first name] [Shared last name]. I..  I am your daughter."

                The gears in his head turned as he tried to process the new information. When something suddenly clicked in his head. The love of his life just before he died, was constantly sick and had been for a few weeks. Alastor had just thought she had a cold and constantly doted on her, trying to provide the best medicine he could.. hm.. find. She never took it thankfully. She was pregnant.

           He hadn't thought about it before now but it has come to his attention that the reason why he cared for this child so much was because she reminded him of his wife. She was careful with every decision, she was always calm in every situation she's been in, and they both had that beautiful fire in their eyes. The fire that let everyone know that they weren't going to submit to nobody. The dynamic between him and his wife wasn't much different from the dynamic between him and his daughter.

              Why hadn't Alastor seen it before. [Y/N] was obviously named after his mother. The girl was literally his mini me. He couldn't help but let a tear or two drop from his eyes before bending his knees to look at her at her level.

            "Tell me... what uh. What happened to your mother?" Alastor held the girl's cheek in his hand caressing it gently and wiping away her own tears, slightly smearing the blood on his hand.

             "Mama died of the influenza virus when I was 10. I'm sure she's in Heaven, having the time of her life." Alastor pulled his daughter into a tight embrace, never wanting to let go.

            "After all this time, I've had a precious piece of her with me. And I won't ever leave you alone again."

A/N: Yall let me know if you liked this concept, this was fun to do. I know it's kind of out of character for Alastor but I hope it healed something in y'all with daddy issues 🙏

[redvexillum]

@alastorthirsty thank you for making the request! This ain't silly and over-the-top at all. I mean...did'ya look at some of my other requests *cough* I love this ask because I can go full on drama-mode and not sure if you know this about me, but my favourite animal is a drama-llama. Haha! Anyway, I realllllly indulged in this one, so bless you for giving me the opportunity 💖👉👈

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, possessive!alastor, p in v, established relationship, love making, gentle s♡x, c♡nnilingus, cuddling, soft!alastor, demisexual!alastor, light b♡ndage with shadow tentacles, smuff (smut + fluff)

Alastor’s fingers dug into your wrist like talons, yanking you through the narrow hotel hallway, up the creaking stairs, and into a suffocating, shadow-cloaked corridor. The acrid stench of fire and ash clung to your skin, a reminder of the chaos that had unfolded – the devastation of Vee’s tower, the flames still dancing in your memory.  

Everything felt so surreal, the shock still pulsing through your veins, leaving you breathless, your mind scrambling to catch up with the frantic pace he set.  

Your legs struggled to keep up, each hurried step barely matching his long, relentless strides. He hadn’t looked at you. Not once. There was no concern in his eyes, no reassurance in his touch – just cold purpose.  

His grip was iron, biting into your flesh with a fierceness that made you wince. You could feel the sharp edge of his claws digging into your skin, a silent punishment for your recklessness.  

“A-Alastor...it hurts,�� you whimpered, your voice fragile, cracking under the weight of pain and fear. Your words seemed to snap something in him – his shoulders stiffened, his jaw clenched, and without a word, he loosened his grip just enough for you to breathe. But his pace, his determination, never wavered. He was a storm, sweeping you up in his fury, and you were powerless to stop him.  

The moment you crossed the threshold into his room, the door slammed shut with a finality that echoed through the dark space. Your heart pounded, the rhythm erratic and wild, each beat thundering in your ears. The familiar atmosphere of his room – rich with his scent, a dark blend of metal and the bayou – washed over you, yet it offered no comfort.  

Instead, it only magnified the tension crackling between you, the unspoken anger simmering beneath his silence.  

Your mind flashed back to Vox, the twisted grin on his face as he flaunted his control over you. The Overlord had known exactly who you were and, more importantly, who you belonged to.  

For nearly a year, you had been nothing more than a pawn in his cruel game, locked away in his opulent prison, displayed like a trophy to mock Alastor. You had heard his taunts in the darkness, seen his cold, mirthless eyes as he laughed – Vox had relished every moment of your captivity.  

You had been so foolish, thinking you could appeal to him, thinking you could change anything. Guilt ate away at you, bitter and unrelenting, as memories of your naivety surged back. You had thought that maybe you could free Angel Dust from Valentino’s grasp by being Vox’s friend, by playing along with his twisted games.  

How utterly wrong you had been. Your idealism had shattered, and now all you were left with was the shame of your failures.  

And yet, even as guilt weighed heavy on your chest, there was relief – a deep, painful relief. Alastor had come for you, breaking through Vox’s fortress to drag you out of Vox’s grasp.  

But at what cost? 

A burning flush crept up your cheeks, the sting of shame and self-loathing settling deep in your chest. The adrenaline that had fuelled you, kept you moving, now drained away, leaving only raw, vulnerable emotions in its wake. You had wanted to help, to do something right. But instead, you had been nothing but a burden, another problem for Alastor to fix. Your heart ached with the weight of your failure, the knowledge that, once again, you had only caused trouble.  

“I just wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath in the thick silence. But the words felt hollow, empty. Because all you had done was create another mess, another disaster – one that nearly cost you, and him, everything.   

Before an apology could form on your lips, Alastor’s hand was suddenly cradling your face, fingers warm against your tear-streaked cheeks. Through your blurry vision, you saw that ever-present grin, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart thump faster, harder, against your chest. Your lips trembled, unsure of what was coming next. Would he yell at you? Scold you for your recklessness? Or worse, would he finally grow tired of you – of all your mistakes? 

You waited, bracing yourself for the inevitable sting of rejection or anger, but it never came. Instead, Alastor leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, featherlight kiss. It felt so delicate, almost accidental, as if the brief touch wasn’t meant to happen. But then, before you could process it, he moved closer, crowding your body against the door, trapping you between the cool wood and the heat radiating from him.  

The next kiss was different – urgent, ferocious, and brimming with unspoken need. His hands, trembling ever so slightly, traced the contours of your face before sliding down your neck, lingering as though savouring every inch of your skin. Then, in a swift, possessive motion, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, every inch of his body pressing into yours.  

Kisses came, over and over again, each one deeper, more demanding, as if he were trying to reclaim every moment you had been apart, every second lost to Vox’s cruel game. When your lips parted, gasping for air, he didn’t hesitate – his tongue slipped past the seam of your lips, exploring, tasting, claiming every part of you with fevered desperation. He devoured you, marking you in a way that felt primal, raw, each movement of his mouth more insistent than the last.  

You felt him – all of him – pressed hard against your navel, the heat between you growing with every passing second. His lips left yours, trailing a path of fire down your jawline, grazing the sensitive skin of your neck with gasping, hungry breaths. But just as quickly as the tension built, something in him shifted. His muscles tensed, his body stiffening against yours, and then he stopped.  

Your hands, still clutching the lapels of his jacket, trembled as you tried to catch your breath. You looked down at him, confused, his face buried in the crook of your neck, unmoving, like a statue. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, and you could feel the barely contained tremor running through him. His ears twitched, laying flat against his head before perking up once more, as if caught between conflicting instincts.  

Suddenly, he pulled back, the air around him crackling with static, a low buzz of white noise filling the space. His eyes flashed – flickering between red radio dials and his usual, sharp, black slits. That ever-present grin twisted, tightening into something more akin to a scowl, a dangerous edge creeping into it. Unexpectedly, he grabbed you, dragging you toward the bayou side of his room.  

“Al-Alastor?” you called out, your voice small and hesitant. He let you go abruptly, and with a sharp snap of his fingers, an ornate porcelain bathtub appeared in front of you, its gold clawed feet gleaming under the dim light. Hot, steaming water cascaded from the silver shower head, the water draining to who-knows-where.  

Before you could react, dark tendrils – his tendrils – wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground and unceremoniously dumping you into the bath, clothes and all. The warmth of the water soaked through your clothes, sending a rush of heat through your body. You gasped, coughing as water splashed into your mouth.  

“Alastor!” you sputtered, blinking up at him, confused, your face drenched as you wiped the water from your eyes.  

He stood over you, straight-backed, shoulders rigid, his hands neatly clasped behind him as if he were merely surveying a piece of art. His crimson eyes glinted down at you with cool detachment, that maddening grin still plastered on his face. 

“You don’t smell like me,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-face, but with an underlying possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine.  

You blinked, still dazed, unsure of what he meant, your heart pounding in your chest. “W-what?” 

His grin widened then, dark amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned in, his shadow casting over you. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll make sure you do.” 

With a sharp snap of his fingers, a bar of soap materialized in Alastor’s hand – the kind with a woodsy, metallic scent, popular in Cannibal Town. You had never been fond of its pungent odour, but you knew Alastor adored it, and at this moment, that was all that mattered.  

His focus was singular, almost obsessive, as he leaned forward, the water streaming down his face, drenching his usually pristine hair. His movements were slow but deliberate, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he undressed you, peeling the wet fabric from your skin.  

You caught the slight twitch in his left eye, the tremor in his fingers – he was lost deep in his thoughts, buried somewhere you couldn’t reach. His silence was suffocating, filled with the weight of everything he wasn't saying. As your clothes fell away, baring your vulnerable form before him, your shoulders curled in, and your hands moved to shield your chest.  

But Alastor wasn’t having it. His long fingers captured your wrists, pulling your hand away, gently but firmly. Then, with deliberate care, he began to massage the soap into your skin, the rough texture gliding across your wet body.  

“Where did he touch you, darling?” His voice was deceptively light, playful even, but the malice underneath was unmistakable. His question dripped with venom, barely concealed beneath the surface. “You didn’t let him...” His hand, still holding the soap, drifted up your arm as the hot water poured over both of you, saturating your senses. Alastor, now fully in the tub with you, crouched low, his eyes boring into yours, searching for any hint of truth, any flicker of something unsaid.  

Your wet hair clung to your face and neck as you shook your head, droplets falling in rivulets down your cheeks. “He didn’t touch me like that, Alastor,” you whispered, your voice soft yet steady. For the first time since he rescued you, you found the courage to reach out. Your fingers trembled as they brushed a few strands of his soaked hair back from his face, your touch tender, hesitant.  

Alastor inched backward until his back hit the edge of the tub, his legs unfolding slightly as he stretched out beneath you. You straddled his hips, your thighs brushing against the rough fabric of his wet clothes, the friction sending a shiver through your core. Your chest pressed against his soaked shirt as you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.  

“I promise,” you murmured, your lips ghosting over his as if your words could seep into his very soul. His eyes fluttered shut at the intimacy, his grip tightening on your hips, pulling you closer, closer until there was no space between your bodies.  

“I hate the scent of that noisy picture box,” Alastor muttered against your lips, stealing another kiss, his voice low and rough with barely contained��frustration. “Sharp, unpleasant,” he continued, his hips grinding into you, the friction sending jolts of heat through your body. The pressure of him, firm and insistent against your core, drew a soft stifled moan from your lips. “Masking everything,” he growled, the words vibrating against your mouth.  

Your hands moved of their own accord, fingers tracing down the lapels of his jacket, your lips trailing soft, lingering kisses along his jaw, down the curve of his neck. One button, then another, came undone beneath your touch, revealing the sharp jut of his collarbone, his skin slick with water. He groaned low in his throat, his hands finding their way between your bodies, undoing the button and zipper of his pants with swift, practised ease.  

The moment his hot shaft pressed against your slick folds, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through you. His hips moved slowly, tortuously so, grinding up and down, creating an unbearable heat that built with each stroke. “Did you miss this, darling?” Alastor murmured, his voice like velvet, thick with desire, as his hips continued their slow rhythm against you.  

Your head fell forward, a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you bit down on your lower lip, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your throat. But Alastor wouldn’t allow it. His clawed fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face until your eyes met his. “Don’t hide,” he whispered, his voice laced with command and something darker, more animalistic. “Not when I finally found you.” 

The sound of the shower created a steady backdrop, like heavy rain pouring down, but all that mattered, all you could feel, was him. His body pressed against yours, his hands gripping your hips, his gaze locking you in place as if daring you to look away. And at that moment, there was nothing else – no past, no fear, just the two of you, lost in each other.  

Slowly, you dragged your sensitive clit along the edge of his cock, teasing him with every slight movement. His low, throaty sigh filled the space between you as you positioned yourself above him, your core hovering just over his tip. His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, softened with raw desire, a hunger that mirrored your own.  

With purposeful slowness, you sank down onto him, feeling the pleasant stretch as he filled you, inch by inch, the heat between your bodies sparking into something untamable.  

Alastor hissed through clenched teeth as your tight warmth enveloped him, his grip on your hips tightening, claws digging into your skin as though afraid you’d slip away. The moment you let out a soft, breathless moan, he responded. His hips bucked upward, thrusting deeper into you, your walls clinging to him, making every movement feel electric.  

The slick sound of wet skim meeting wet fabric filled your ears, mingling with the steady beat of the water raining down from the shower. It was as if the outside world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you and the pleasure that built between your bodies.  

“A-Al,” you gasped, your voice trembling as your fingers clawed at his shoulders, gripping the wet, rough fabric of his soaked suit jacket. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide as he watched you, every reaction you made, every shiver of pleasure fuelling his own.  

Without warning, Alastor’s shadowy tendrils wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly off his lap, suspending your body in midair. The tentacles curled around your calves, your thighs, spreading you open for him, baring your slick, pulsing core to his ravenous gaze.  

You wobbled, barely able to keep your balance as you were held aloft, your hands clutching his shoulders for stability. But before you could stabilize, Alastor surged forward, thrusting himself into you with a brutal intensity, his hips pounding against yours.  

His pants had slipped down to circle his ankles, but that didn’t slow him. His sharp teeth gritted in pleasure as he watched the way your bodies connected, his cock disappearing inside you over and over again, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy crashing through you. 

His pace was erratic, frantic, as if he couldn't get enough of you, and your moans only spurred him on. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, your face flushed with heat, and just as you were about to come undone, he pulled out, leaving you empty and aching.  

A needy whimper escaped your lips, the absence of him unbearable, but before you could protest, Alastor was on his knees before you, his eyes flickered up meeting your own.  

The tendrils adjusted your height, keeping your legs spread wide as he dove forward, his mouth latching onto your dripping pussy. The water from the shower ran in rivulets down your body, tracing the curves of your breasts and rolling over your heated skin, but all you could focus on was the feel of his tongue.  

He plunged it inside you, swirling and licking, tasting you with desperate fervour. His hands gripped your backside, kneading the soft flesh as he feasted on you, his moans vibrating against your sensitive folds.  

A sharp cry tore from your throat as he sucked and nibbled at your clit, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You could feel your pussy clenching, grasping at nothing as his tongue worked you over, your head spinning with the intensity of it all.  

Your body tilted backward, but more tendrils sprouted to hold you in place, keeping you suspended as Alastor continued his ministrations, devouring you as though he couldn’t get enough. He was a man stranded in the desert, finally taking the first gulp of water.  

The tension inside you built, higher and higher, your muscles clenching tighter with every flick of his tongue. His moans were muffled against your flesh, but they only heightened your arousal, the vibrations making you gasp. Your climax hovered just unreachable, so close, and as his tongue flicked over your clit in rapid succession, your entire body tensed.  

“Al-Al-Al!” you cried, your voice breaking as the crest of your orgasm finally surged through you. Your muscles clenched, your back arched, and waves of pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in the sensation. Alastor didn’t let up, his tongue relentless as he rode out your climax, dragging every last ounce of pleasure from your trembling body until you were left breathless and spent, your heart thundering in your chest.  

But before you could fully come down from the high, Alastor stood, his cock hard and dripping. He slammed his hips into yours, his cock burying itself deep inside you, filling you in one swift motion. His balls slapped against your soaked skin from the sheer force of his thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Each time his thick, blunt tip pushed against your sensitive spots, all you could do was cry out, your voice lost behind the steady beat of the shower.  

“Darling...darling,” he moaned, his voice ragged, full of need. His claws dug into your hips, pulling you closer as he relentlessly drove into you, his hips snapping forward with wild, desperate force. His movement became erratic, his breaths coming in short gasps, and you felt the trembling in his muscles as he pushed himself deeper, chasing the same release that had just consumed you.  

When his body finally gave in, he groaned softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. His cock pulsed as he spilled hot, thick cum inside you. He slowed, his thrusts becoming shallow, tender, as if savouring the moment, each gentle motion prolonging the feeling of you milking every last drop from him.  

With a final deep thrust, he buried himself inside you completely, pressing against your trembling walls until you were pressed right into his hilt. The tendrils of shadow that had suspended you vanished, and your body felt heavy and spent.  

Alastor pulled you into him, his arms wrapping around you tightly, his claws gently pricking the soft flesh of your back. His chest heaved with each breath, his face pressing into your hair as he held you close, his heart thundering against yours. You could hear it, or perhaps it was your own heartbeat, pounding in your ears as he held you, locking in each other’s embrace, under the rain of the shower.  

The heat of the water cascaded down your bodies, but all you could feel was his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he held you as if he would never let go. His silence spoke volumes, the words he couldn’t say hanging in the air between you. He didn’t need to say them – his touch, the way he clung to you, said it all.  

He had missed you, more than words could express. There hadn’t been a moment where you weren’t on his mind, and now that he had your back, he seemed frozen in time, desperate to savour this moment for eternity.  

You rested your head against his chest, the sound of the water blending with the rhythmic thumping of your hearts. Neither of you moved, content to simply exist in the quiet, shared warmth of one another, as the rest of Hell faded away.  

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