#Overlord: I killed one your men :)

[soundwave-radioandbroadcast]

I remember seeing a clip of an episode Transformers Animated and how Rodimus in that show had a bow and arrow, and you know what?

I think it was very sexy of the animators to give him a bow. I think all version of Roddie should get a bow.

[thestuffedalligator]

The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin. They both looked down at the crumpled shape of the Overlord, His Unholy Majesty, in his obsidian armor.

His final spasms had been mesmerizingly acrobatic. The fall down the steps leading up to his iron throne had pretzelled his body quite impressively, both arms folded behind his back and one leg bent at a jaunty angle.

The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.

"Shit," said the goblin.

"Shit," said the orc.

"We're likely to get blamed for this," the goblin said. She walked over to the head of the glittering mangled heap and started pulling the helmet off.

"It's not our fault," the orc said. "It's hard to help someone choking when they wear two-hundred pounds of spiked armor at all times."

"Yeah, well," the goblin grunted. The helmet came free, and the bald head of the Overlord bounced on the stone with a hollow, coconut noise. "You know how it is in this bloody country - thieves get their heads cut off so they can't think about thieving, and all that." She fished in the Overlord's mouth with a finger and pulled out the obstructing olive on the end of her claw.

She popped it into her mouth and chewed. "What do you reckon they do for a regicide?" she said.

"We should run," the orc said. She had started bouncing her leg. "I hear that there's some places in the Alliance where they just kill you and let you stay dead. That's got to be nicer than what'll happen if we stay here."

The goblin started to nod - and then her gaze fell on the helmet.

It looked like a pineapple designed by a deranged blacksmith. It was all thorns and spikes and hard edges, as though the maker had been very determined to not let pigeons roost on it. The only bits that weren't solid iron were eyeholes. Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face.

She held up the helmet and squinted from it to the orc. One of the thorns had been bent badly in the fall.

Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face...

"Right," she muttered. "Right. Could work - or."

The orc had a sudden vision of the immediate future. "No," she said.

"I mean you're about his height-"

"No."

"It would just be for a-"

"Absolutely not."

"Just hear me out," the goblin said. "Outside of this room are two-thousand men and orcs and goblins who are absolutely gonzo about this man, and there's a whole country of them outside of the castle, and at any moment someone's going to walk in that door and see one dead tit in black armor and two unbelievably dead idiots next to him.

"Or." She tossed the helmet up like a basketball to the orc, who fumbled and tried to find somewhere to hold it that wasn't a knife's edge. "We chuck him out the window now, walk out the door in the armor, and ditch the armor as soon as nobody sees us."

The orc had started bouncing her leg again. "They'll know something's up the second I walk out of the room."

"No worries," said the goblin. "Leave that to me."

---

It had been a very strange year for the Empire.

Change had rolled across the land as slow and inevitable as a glacier. Roads and bridges carved the gray, blasted wildlands, and a number of social reforms had made the country a place where you could be miserable, yes, but miserable in comfort and safety, and that was an improvement.

Barely anyone got boiled alive in molten metal, and even if the disgusted sun never rose to light the Empire, at least you had a roof over your head to protect yourself from the acid rain.

"Your empire flourishes, Your Unholy Majesty," the magician said over her wine glass. She looked down from the tower's balcony over the gleaming stone battlements. Some work had been done to line the castle and surrounding city with sizzling, crackling alchemical lights at night. The whole thing glowed like something dangerously radioactive.

The suit of armor waved a languid, glittering gauntlet over to the goblin, who bowed.

"His Abominable Gloriousness Thanks You," the goblin recited. "The Prosperity Of His Empire Can Only Be Achieved Through The Prosperity Of His People."

"If I may be so bold, I am quite pleased that you had chosen to take my counsel under consideration," said the magician. "We have accomplished many things together."

Another wave. Another bow. "The Overlord, May His Presence Swallow The Sun And Stars, Thanks You As Well."

"It was quite gratifying to see you change your mind, after so many centuries of denial." The wine was swirled. "Tell me, what was it that finally gave you cause to listen to me?"

There was the slightest hesitation. The goblin's eyes flicked to the armor, then to the magician. She puffed out her chest. "Do you question the wisdom of His Austere Lugubriousness?" she asked.

The magician looked at the goblin. She looked at the armor. She tipped her head back and drank the wine too quickly.

She looked back at the armor. "I know you're the orc, you moron," she said.

The room went deathly still. An alchemical light fizzled.

The orc pulled off the helmet, sending long, untied hair down tangling, and said: "How could you possibly-"

"Because you're both idiots!" the magician said. The goblin jumped. The orc jumped with a noise like a dropped stove. "What kind of a plan was this?! If it wasn't for me, you would have been turned into fertilizer months ago."

She closed her eyes. She took a long, dramatic breath. She set the wine glass down on the balcony rail.

"How did the Overlord die?" she asked when she seemed like she had gotten a hold over herself.

"Choked on an olive," said the goblin.

"Threw his body out the window," said the orc.

"You don't have to mention the window," said the goblin.

"Right," said the orc. "Sorry."

The magician looked out over the city, hand curled thoughtfully under her nose. "Who knows about this?"

"Just us. And, uh. You. Apparently."

"And why did you accept my counsel?"

The orc blinked. "Sorry?"

"Why did you accept my counsel?" the magician repeated.

"Well," the orc said. "Well - you seemed like you had good ideas-"

"Great ideas!" the goblin said with an edge of desperation. "Don't know why the old bastard didn't listen to you!"

"Right - right," said the orc. "And when we figured we were stuck doing this - well, it just made sense, really."

The magician seemed to absorb this. She nodded. "All right," she said, striding between the two and grabbing the crystal decanter.

"Um," said the orc. "Sorry. What happens now?"

"What happens is that you two will continue to serve as Overlord," said the magician. "You will continue to take my counsel. We will continue to reform this bloody country, and gods willing, we will turn it into the crown jewel of the world by next Midwinter."

The orc looked at the goblin. The goblin looked at the orc.

"Really?" the goblin asked.

"Oh yes," said the magician. "I've worked hard to be counsel to the Overlord, and I have no reason to stop now. And besides-"

She looked the orc up and down with a deliberate slowness, poring over every microscopic detail, eyes tracing over every jagged line, and grinned like a panther.

"You look much better in the armor than he ever did," she said. Dark robes swirled like a becleavaged thundercloud, and she strode out through the high iron doors, decanter in hand.

The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.

"Shit," said the goblin.

"Shit," said the orc.

[animeshotsh]

Chains | Husk x SisOverlord!Reader / Yandere!Alastor x Reader |

Summary: Its been years since you saw your brother...

Warnings: Alastor its a warning himself | Yandere!Alastor | Overlord!Reader | Canon Violence | Grammar Mistakes |

No one expected the doors of the Hotel to burst Open that afternoon. Vaggie was the first to react, being ready to fight whever decided to attack that day (it was becoming something normal).

Charlie on her part was jumping towards the stranger, ready to shake hands and introduce herself.

"Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, im Charlie, whats your na-" Before Charlie could finish two voices sounded in the back.

"(Y/N)?"

"(Y/N) MY DEAR!!"

Husk and Alastor voices echoed in the looby, the only response their got were a set of flashing sharp poker cards being directed at the radio Demon and Husk.

"ITS HAS BEEN 12 YEARS AND THATS ALL YOU GONNA SAY?" You screamed at both men.

Husk looked away, shame over his cat face. Long time ago you two used to rule. The brother and sister duo, the ones who could destroy everyone. That was till Husk destroyed himself, giving his soul to the radio Demon. Leaving you behind.

Alastor was amused by your anger. He knew you hated him, he was the one who took your brothers soul after all. And he never felt remorse because of it, he was almost happy he did it. It was the only way he got to see you, ever if you only showed him hate.

He would take whatever from you.

"Wait...are you Husk's gilfriend?" Charlie still not catching up asked, getting the most bizarre look from you.

"Hell no, im his sister" You responded making the princess blush and apologie too much. "Its fine, I know he does not talk a lot about me"

Charlie could hear the sadness in your voice. She took a moment to see you, and now she saw how similar Husk and you were. Cat face a pair of wings, the colors were different and so were your eyes, but there was something that just connected you two.

"This is (Y/N), The Casino Demon, you bet against her and you lose your Soul" Alastor explained appearing besides you. "She and Husk used to rule together"

"Yeah, well thats in the past now" You responded to Alastor both of you killing each other with your eyes.

The tension was broken by Husk, "why are you here?"

"Im here because you are here and because I want to redeem myself" You responded with your head high, not looking at the obvious smirk from Alastor or the questioning look from Husk.

Charlie quickly took your hand, guiding you towards a desk to check you in, she ramble about the hotel, the guests and things they did in here.

You kind of feel bad for her, you could see her passion but the only reason you were in here was because of Husk. Ever since Alastor took his soul it ended being a game of finding him. Alastor would make Husk's soul appear and since you two were connected as brother and sister you would fly there only to find him gone and a smirking Radio Demon.

But this time, his soul had been in one place for a long time. So you decided to use this chance to be by your brothers side.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Later that same night you went to the bar, Husk tried to ignore you, cleaning glasses but ended facing you. No one dared to speak first, silent tears fell from your eyes, slowly your hands reached his, his fluffy hair welcoming you.

"I have missed you so much" You said smiling at him. Husk felt his heart break, he knew how Alastor played with you using him. He had tried many times to make you hate him, but you never did. You also never fought Alastor knowing he would use Husk to get you.

"Lets have a drink for the old days"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

After many drinks you went back to your room. So many years apart...Husk and you had so much to catch on.

"You know you cant have him back"

The radio Demon appear behind you, you ignored him not wanting to fall for his games.

"Not without a deal at least"

"And what would that deal be?" You asked not looking back at the Demon.

In a flash he got closer to you, not touching you but you could feel his breath down your neck.

"Your soul for his, be mine for the eternity and free him" Hell, you could feel the psycho smile and listen the radio laughts.

"Goodnight Alastor"

You left him alone outside your room. Alastor smiled to himself, hands behind his back he started to walk to his own room.

"Just a bit more" he whispered his body turning to his full Demon form.

"Just a bit more to be mine"

[myntrose]

ೃ⁀➷partners in crime ︻デ═一

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾────────────────────────────────☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

ft: Alastor x gn! reader

summary: It's another night at the hotel. Everyone is lounging around the shared space, or sitting at the bar. With a boost of confidence (and a few drinks) Angel finally asks the burning question everyone had : How did you and Alastor meet?

cw: demi! Alastor, established relationship(married), Alastor and reader meet when they were alive, reader is an assassin , killing and mild gore (it's alastor yall), a lot of petnames, no use of y/n, no beta we die like men

a/n: it's the way alastor got me smiling and kicking my feet. he got me to break my 1 year hiatus LMAO. also, I am aware that he's ace. I myself am somewhere along the demi spectrum, so this fic is purely for comfort n coping. if you don't like it, pls ignore :,D

wc: 1.5 k (1,469 words)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾────────────────────────────────☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

The hotel common was filled with low gentle music and idle chatter. Vaggie and Charlie were on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. Nifty was running around chasing some poor roach. Even Cherri was here, with Sir Pentious attempting to flirt with her once again.

Husk was behind the bar, in ordinary fashion. Although he was mostly listening and doing his job, he would occasionally chide into the conversation the other two residents at the hotel were having. Angel was in the middle of telling you about how much of a headache Val was, while you gave him you condolences. It seemed like the only person missing was the radio demon himself, who was probably in his tower, making a new broadcast.

"Speakin of which..." Angel, who noticed Alastor's lack of presence, noted "I got a question for ya toots. How is it that tall, red and creepy managed to bag you as a partner? You're sweet and all, I get that. But how did you even meet-"

The loud slam of drinks caused the peace within the hotel to halt . Husk shoots a stern glare towards Angel, almost to warn him, be cautious about asking question's about Alastor and his darling, you never know if he's listening.

"It's alright, Husk" You send him a sincere smile. While he would never trust your husband, he can't help but believe your words.

"Well, Angel, let's start with this. If you've ever wondered why I'm down here in the first place, it's because of the occupation I had when I was alive. That's actually how I met Alastor."

Oh, maybe you were a thief and were trying to steal something from Alastor. Or maybe a detective that was on the case to solve his murders. Or maybe-

"I was hired to assassinate one of his targets."

oh.

You couldn't help but laugh at Angels' reaction. Sure, you were kind to those in the hotel, and definitely not as threatening as most overlords. He, and most people you met in Hell, just assumed you committed some mundane crime and got the unfortunate eternal punishment .

Taking a small sip of your drink, you start to recollect the unforgettable night that would define your current relationship.

It was supposed to be like any other job that you were given. Your employer would hand you a file, you would find the target, and get paid in return. Maybe it wasn't the most ethical way to make money, but hey, you knew how to kill so you made it work.

You had followed your target into the bar, while waiting away in the corner. Though your eyes were focused on them the entire night, you couldn't help but feel another pair of eyes on you.

It was probably some random patron in the bar, you guessed. It wasn't for another hour when you noticed that your target had left the vicinity.

The streets were dark, with the occasional street light every block or so. It was perfect place to finish your job. All you needed was for your target to turn into some alleyway, and as quietly as you followed him, you'd quietly go for the kill-

Quietly. Hold on, why was it so quite?

Looking up the street, you noticed that what was once where your target stood was now empty. There was no way he outran you, given that you would have heard his footsteps. To the right of you were the woods, maybe he took a detour?

No, everything felt wrong. Every single thought in your brain was screaming to run, to grab your gun that was hidden beneath your coat, to get out of here-

"Careful my dear, we wouldn't want you getting hurt now, would we?"

A cold blade found its way to your neck. Two very disturbing facts became known to you. First, was the fact that the blade was already stained red. And second, you were about to be the second kill of the night.

A million thoughts ran through your mind. Was this how you were going to die? How fast could you grab your gun? Would your employer be pissed off that you died in the job? With your eyes shut closed, you waited for the knife to make contact.

"Now now, there's no need to be so scared my dear! My, you look like a deer in headlights!"

...what?

Opening your eyes, you're met with the mysterious man who just had his weapon on you seconds ago. He seemed vaguely familiar, probably having seen him at the bar you frequent.

"It seems that I've caused you quite a scare. Do know that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to see for myself this new assassin I've heard so much about! You've caused quite the gossip, my dear. Makes good conservation."

You continued to stand in silence, with the initial shock of almost dying wearing off now. As mad as you were that you got caught, you were equally confused on just who this man was. With some more listening to his voice, the answer popped into your mind.

"You- you're that new radio host! Alastor, was it?"

Alastor's smile grew at the acknowledgment. "Indeed I am! Glad to know you've heard about me."'

Had anyone walked into the conversation you two were having, they would have assumed it was one between new acquaintances. In which one has a knife in their hand, while the other has a gun.

"You see, my dear, I've heard quite a bit about your line if work. While I am more than capable of... dealing with others, I propose that we work out some sort of deal. One where you can finally stop working for that employer of yours, and actually make a profit off your talents."

Alastor put out a hand, waiting, watching to see how you'd respond. It's been a long night for you, and you had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time you saw. Plus, if working with him meant you'd finally have to stop answering to your boss, then why the hell not. You take his hand, before agreeing to this proposition.

"...and since then, we've been business partners. Our relationship kind of just happened after a few moths."

It was nice to look back to when you first met your now-husband. Looking around the bar, you noticed that you weren't just talking to Angel. At some point, unbeknownst to you, everyone at the hotel had come over to listen to your story time.

"Well toots, I figured you had to be some sort of crazy to date smiles, but I guess it takes one to know one." Angels says while taking a shot, still reeling with that fact that someone as kind as you was a killer. Head nods and murmurs of agreement spread within the group.

Before you could say anything, a pool of dark clouds appeared to your side. From the shadows, the very man you were taking about stood before you.

"Hey, Al."

He faces you with his signature grin, before turning to the rest of the residents.

"It seems that I've became the topic of conversion while I was gone! It's quite interesting to see how interested you all are in with me and my dear's meeting."

The hint of annoyance in his voice was entertaining, to say the least. You place a hand on his shoulder, barely hovering above it.

"Aww, come of Al! They just wanted to hear how we first met! Besides, it's a fun story to tell."

"If "fun" means almost killing ya for the first time, I'd hate to know what you guys did when you started dating-" "Shut up Angel!"

You answer a few questions that were asked before everyone eventually returned back to their previous endeavors. Husk and Angel eventually sit around with the others in the common room, leaving just you and Alastor at the bar.

"It's kinda funny, now that I look back at it."

Alastor doesn't say anything, promoting you to continue.

"That night, I almost turned down that job. I was painfully tired, and all I wanted to do was go home. It's crazy to think that we wouldn't have met had I not pushed myself to take the job."

Anyone who knew Alastor would know that him asking for a partnership was simply outlandish. Hell, Alastor himself questioned why he was seeking you out in the first place.

No, underneath he knew. He knew from the first time he saw you. It was a different time from when you both officially met. When he saw you, someone so seemingly innocent, skillfully take down a man twice your size, he knew that he had to meet you.

"Well, mon chéri, it's good that you did."

[cherubfae]

Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.

"𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔦𝔯" || {𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯}

tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal, no smut but still MDNI

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!

Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.

True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.

As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.

Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.

"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.

Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.

Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.

Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.

"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"

Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Hazbin Hotel.

Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?

With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.

Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"

On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"

With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.

To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.

"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.

"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.

Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.

Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.

"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."

You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.

Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.

"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."

"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."

It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?

Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.

"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"

Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.

On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"

Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.

An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.

"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.

"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."

Vox groans in protest. "I know."

Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.

Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.

Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.

"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.

"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.

Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."

"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.

"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"

Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.

Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."

Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."

Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.

Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."

Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[urfavlarry]

Your Overlord! Husk is just so 🫠 So I HAD to request something for him!

Reader works at the Casino. She is Husk's favorite waitress (maybe because she is his gf idk 👀) and deals with rude costumers more often than she'd like. During one of those situations, they corner her for trying to "stick her nose in somebody else's business". Overlord! Husk deals with them before they have the chance to do anything. After the situation is taken care of, he steals her away to dote on her <3

This is the (slightly modified) piece of dialogue that inspired my request. Feel free to use it, if you want!

Reader, backing up: "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's be civil about this. Let's make a deal; you leave, and you don't die a second time. How does that sound?"

Sinner: "And how do you intend to kill us, dollface?"

Reader: "Oh, no, I can't kill you. But my boss can. Say hi, boss."

Overlord! Husk, appearing behind reader: "Hi."

I'm aware of how cringe this is, but I couldn't help myself ;;

oh my god this isn’t cringe at all!! i love this sm !! hope ive managed to write this how you wanted and that you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this<33

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, alcohol, mention of harassment, the sinners might be sexist? (if i forgot anything tell me in the comments)

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Overlord!Husk x waitress reader

You’ve met Husk a few years ago after you have just fallen into the dark place called Hell. You stumbled upon the casino after you accepted that this was your life— well afterlife for the rest of eternity, and damn, eternity is a long time! So you decided to look for a job, a job you had when you were alive; a waitress.

Husk hired you after a week of you being “on trial” as he likes to call it and you were just fit for the job! You had the nerves of a saint since you used to deal with drunk people that drowned themselves in alcohol and decided to throw the tiny bit of dignity away and harass the workers who didn’t really sign up for being harassed. At your old job you were usually the one that calmed fights and disagreements down and people were really grateful for that. You could say you were like the mom of that last bar you worked at!

Today the casino was calmer the usual, just sinners chatting away and dancing on the dance floor or just having a drink after a long day of work. The day was slow yes, but at least you didn’t have shitty customers to worry about; you thought to yourself but then suddenly the bars doors slam open and in come 4 not so friendly looking fox demons. You hated those kinds of demons, they usually tried to steal and just make your afterlife a living hell— well if that’s even possible since you already are in hell.

You shoot your fellow employees a uncertain glance and walk over to the demons to ask if they decided on their drinks. They snickered as they ordered their drinks and whispered to themselves as you went to get the drinks they wanted. The bartender, Chris, was a fellow friend of yours and as he makes the drinks he says with a worried tone; “Hey Y/N I know you’re experienced and shit but please be careful, those guys used to come here often and they like to start fights and they really are not fun to deal with so just, keep your guard up, okay?” He looks at you with genuine worry as he hands the drinks to you and you pick them up with ease; “Don’t worry Chrissy i’ll be extra careful okay? I’ve dealt with assholes when I was alive you really don’t need to worry about me.” You say with a smile and shoot him a wink and walk over to the men that are now playing poker and are betting for a huge amount of money. You place the drinks down and go back to talk with Chris to pass the time.

Husk was in his usual spot in the VIP room of the casino, gambling with some sinners, having a bored look on his face as it was clear the sinner really had no experience. He looks away for a moment to glance to the other side of the casino to see you chatting with the bartender. He smiles for just a bit and looks back at the game. You were quite close since you had both a lot in common and were quite fond of each other. After about a year and a half of you working at the casino, Husk asked you out and you, of course accepted! You got together after that and you couldn’t have been happier. But the only one that knew about your secret relationship was Chris, since you trusted him with that kind of information. You and Husk got married after 2 years of being together and Chris could just tell you two loved each other, you were practically love sick idiots!

“And you know that bitch that took your place while you were sick? She was a total—” You get cut off by the sound of yelling and you turn your head to see what was happening. The fox demons were now yelling and fighting, screaming foul things at each other because the game was apparently “not fair”. You exchange looks with Chris and sigh, walking over to the angered men with a calm look on your face, straightening your uniform.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! May I ask what is the cause of all of this commotion? You’re disturbing the others that are trying to have a good time.” You say with a calm tone trying to calm the situation and to not raise attention. “Go mind your fucking business bitch you probably put something in our drinks to make us focus less so that asshole can win!” One of them yells and the others nod along with angered looks on their faces. “Im sorry wh—” You get cut off yet again by the one of the angry men; “Just shut the fuck up your so clueless it’s embarrassing you probably don’t even know how to do your job properly” Another one of them says grabbing your wrist to pull you down to his height. Your nose scrunches in disgust since you can smell the alcohol from his mouth and you just pray you don’t throw up in his face. He starts to speak again, clearly still annoyed; “How about you fucking go do your job like a good little lady and bring us another drink.” The demon says with a smirk on his face and lets you go and whistles at you as you go to leave. You turn around and glare slightly at the man but take a deep breath and say; “Gentlemen calm yourselves please, let’s be civil about this, yes? How about you either leave this casino and never come back, or you can treat the employees with respect.” You say brushing off your uniform and look at them with a smile fake like the money they were betting on.

“Yea? Or else what?” One of them asks gaining some new found confidence and smirks at you looking you up and down, licking his lips as if you were some kind of prey. “You get to keep your little afterlife and don’t die a second time!” You say with a sarcastic tone and smile. They start to laugh as if you just said the most hilarious thing in the entire world and look at you like a little child who was born yesterday; “Aww and how does a little demon like you intend to do that?” They all snicker awaiting your answer that they were sure it was gonna be even more hilarious then the previous statement you made.

Husk who heard the commotion and has been watching the interaction from afar for almost 10 minutes was growing more and more annoyed by the second. How dare they speak to his wife like that? They think they can just waltz in here and fuck with his wife? Yeah no. He slowly starts to walk towards you and the men and you notice him out from the corner of your eye and smirk, knowing from the look on his face that he was pissed. Maybe even that was not that much of a strong word to describe the anger bubbling up in his body. You look at the demons in front of you and say; “Perhaps you would like to discuss that with my boss?” You say and step back from the demons who replace their smug expressions with confused glances.

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” Husk asks raising a brow with a annoyed look on his face as the fox demons now look like they’ve pissed themselves. You smirk at the men flipping them off from behind, sticking your tongue out. Your boss from your old job never really bothered to stand up for his employees so it felt good to finally have assholes like them eat their own shit.

The demons scatter and leave money at the table at mumble apologies towards you and Husk and leave the casino without another word. The employees and some of the customers cheer and whistle and scream at the demons to never come back and you cheer a bit yourself, happy that someone finally stood up for you.

The atmosphere was finally back to its normal calm self and Husk looks at you with a bit of a angered look, not because of you, but because he was still pissed someone would just treat his wife like shit, but of course he looks at you with a hint of worry but he’s careful to not show it since he has a reputation to uphold. “Y/N, my office. Now.” He says as he slowly walks over to the back door for employees and you share a worried look with Chris, he looks at you confused and raises a brow at you. You just shrug your shoulders since you’re just as confused as him but you follow closely behind Husk as he wait for you at the employee door. You both walk to his office not far down the hall and he opens the door and lets you enter first. He enters right after you, closing the door behind him. He stays quiet for a bit ask he smokes his cigarette, looking out from the huge window he had in his office.

You stand there nervously and fiddle with your sleeves, hoping you weren’t in trouble, because you really don’t wanna deal with an angry Husk. He throws the cigarette butt out of the window and turns to look at you. He walks up to you cups your cheek in his hand and asks; “Are you okay my love? Did those fuckers hurt you?” He says with worry evident in his voice and you sigh; “No, no they didn’t do anything i’m fine Husker i’ve dealt with shit like this before..” You say looking away from him frowning slightly grabbing your slightly bruised wrist. “I don’t take shit like that to heart.” You say with a smirk.

He smiles softly at you and pulls you closer grabbing you by the waist; “I know Doll I just wanted to check on you, you know? Those guys really are pieces of shit and i’ve wanted to shut them up for a while now, but you did that pretty well yourself~” He says with a smirk and a teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah I know i’m just the best.” You say with a playful tone and chuckle. “I’m glad you were worried about me tho. I guess the “heartless Overlord” really does have a soft spot for me~” You giggle teasing the cat demon, you knew very well he cared about you, and you were very grateful for that. Husk wraps his tail around your leg and look you up at Husk, shivering slightly from his touch, but you can’t help but admire his features up close. He smirks at the remark and pulls you closer so your bodies are practically touching and your faces are inches apart. He suddenly dips you, your lips barely apart as he grabs you firmly, careful so you don’t fall and and smiles, a genuine smile you have never seen before, a smile that Husk himself couldn’t believe he had used and says;

“Hm, well love, you might just happen to have a special spot in this dead heart of mine~”

He says and leans in closing the small gap between you two. Your breath hitches at the contact but you don’t hesitate to kiss back, a simple act that made your heart flutter even though you’ve done this a million times before. You smiled into the kiss and you started to wonder how you could have found such a great partner.

It was kind of funny, you really were a match made in hell.

[colourstreakgryffin]

hii! could u write headcanons of Alastor x Male (preferly) Overlord Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is rough? and since Alastor loves dancing and singing, maybe Reader is shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings?

You know what! I am gonna kill two birds with one stone and make us an Ink Demon! Overlord. So, we’re basically like Baby Bendy from the second BATIM game. Don’t know it? Look it up. One side is harmless and adorable and the other side is monstrous and vicious— however. Here, it’ll just be causal demon form than evil demonic Ink Demon form! Anyway. Let’s goooo. I’ve been doing a lot of GN for Alastor, this time we got a man! I don’t know if you want us to be romantic, I am just gonna guess platonic

Alastor- Follow Me

You look pretty cute and friendly. Black and white, cartoony, with adorable stereotypical demon features like arch-like horns and a long-thin tipped tail. Most importantly, your entire body is made of ink. Only your clothing is touchable, otherwise, your ‘skin’ is so soft, liquidity and stains anything it touches. For that reason and one more, you harden yourself up and avoid conversation

Alastor, the Radio Demon, is not a fan of making friends with men. He prefers women, they are just easier to talk to. However, you’re not as vile and unlikeable as most men with your personality is. You’re the strict, stern, responsible one of the Overlords, ordering the other Overlords to pay attention to Camilla Carmine

Alastor doesn’t know why but he finds you interesting

Your uncontrollable Ink Demon side is extremely violent and merciless so you had to develop a thick shell, in order to make sure nothing can make it trigger at random. It’s too much of a risk, hence why you behave in the way you do. It’s a self-defence mechanism and it’s a protection method to everybody else around too

Alastor doesn’t even care that you’re untouchable. He will touch you anyway, getting annoyed by the black ink forming your body in a in-fact, solid fashion, getting onto his sleeves or hand but he ignores it to converse with you

Alastor also ignores the gruff warnings you give out when he approaches you. That you’re dangerous and that the Ink Beast will try rip him to pieces if it’s let out. If anybody thinks Alastor would be scared of the Ink Demon, they have another thing coming. He’d actually like to face off this Ink Beast one day

It looks like, to every other Overlord, that Alastor is talking to a brick wall when he talks to you. Since you’re not responding not even looking at him, just focusing on Camilla and her statements with the most bland and rough expression, not a single hint of a grin. You’re the opposite of Alastor and yet, he’d like to befriend you

Alastor keeps trying and trying without even halting. He’s quite the persistent man and when he wants to befriend somebody, he won’t stop until he gets what he desires and at this moment, it’s to make friends with you, rather you shut him down and bark at him to stay away

Alastor finds your overall appearance cute. You look like you were drawn for a kids cartoon in the early 19th century. Possibly around his own time of the 1920s-1930s. You’re bendy and mendable, you defy all laws of logic and have cartoon physics on your side. You’re like if a kids cartoon demon tried to be a big bad mafia boss and ruled a part of Hell itself, and he isn’t filtered when it comes to this opinion. He straight up tells you all that

Alastor, overtime, ends up succeeding like the little I don’t take no for a answer brat he is in getting you to agree in joining him out to the Hazbin Hotel and accompanying him for a nice little tour. Throughout the tour, he notices that some music in the Lobby is blasting and without even hesitating, he drags you over to join him into a dance

“Come, my dear sir. Let us dance this tension away!” Alastor chimes out rather excited, immediately leading you into a half-messy dance performance with him as the head. You just stumble along, slightly gritting your fangs in discomfort but it won’t be acknowledged by Alastor in the slightest. All he cares about is putting a smile on your face

Alastor laughs warmly as you attempt to try keep up with him during this dance he had dragged you into. You’re clearly quite timid, not enjoying the way the Deer Overlord dances and sings but you either don’t care enough to shut him up or you are too kind to try shut him up

Alastor likes to tease you about your behaviour and your looks. He isn’t frightened or intimidated at all by your beast side and you’re too colourless and squishy to be scary, he does actually view you as a wonderful friend. Even whilst you’re cold and dismissive, he can get you to acknowledge him and be polite to him so it’s a win for Alastor in the end

It’s been a long time since Alastor got a male friend so he can be more crude and snarky with you, without actually needing to be sensitive, like with his women friends

“My good fellow. You don’t need to act so broody. Smile now, you’re safe and whatever you are worried about, it’s not going to do anything to you or me or anybody in this Hotel”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Joint Broadcast (RadioStatic x Reader)

CW: Cheating, Dubcon, brat taming, Anal, double penetration, caught cheating, nonconsensual broadcast Rated: Adult Requested by: @nyx-umbrakinesis Summary: You thought you could have your cake and eat it, too. In this case, your cakes were Alastor and Vox in romantic and sexual relationships. Sure, you didn't disclose your entanglements with the other but what were the odds they would find out? When the unexpected comes to reality, you're left alone with two angry men who could end your existence. They intend to punish you but in the last way you expect…

It wasn’t uncommon for the Overlords of the Pride ring to have personal entanglements. When you’re as powerful as they are, it was hard to trust anyone lower than them to be vulnerable with enough to engage in any meaningful sexual encounters. Well, that was true for most of them. 

Some, like Valentino thrived on the power indifference, seeking out partners he could destroy in a moment. Most of the overlords instead wanted worthy partners, that left slim pickings and even slimmer pickings for someone like you who had an appetite for variety in addition to quality in your lovers. 

That’s how you found yourself balancing two of the most powerful overlords in your free time. You knew you needed to pick one. Having them both, especially in secret and behind the backs of both was a dangerous game that could get you killed if you got sloppy. 

Good thing you were anything but sloppy. Or so you thought. 

Vox sat one of the old unused broadcasting rooms, face to face with the one man he struggled most to be in the same room with. Dust floated through the air, kicked up by the agitated pacing of the tall man dipped in blood red. It sparkled in the old lights as the microphone tip of his cane spun through the air. 

“Both of us?” Alastor asked, not looking toward the screen faced man leaning against the old radio broadcasting panel. Behind him was old set, a remnant of his early broadcasts in hell and the only one he hadn’t updated, yet. “You’re certain it’s not just wishful thinking on your part?” 

“Seriously?” Vox’s claws dug into the broadcasting, gouging through the rusty metal as if it was nothing. 

“I mean no offense, old pal,” Alastor said, laughing. “I simply thought she had better taste than that. 

“I could say the same,” Vox countered, screen glitching momentarily. “She’s with you after all.” 

“My point exactly!” Alastor laughed, taking great joy in the way Vox had walked into the insult. 

“She should be here in a few minutes,” Vox said as Alastor’s ear flicked, catching the sound of her footsteps along the sidewalk. 

“And we’ll have answers.” Alastor said darkly, “Then you’ll know you were nothing but a second best, a fleeting fancy to pass the time.” 

Vox opened his digital mouth to answer only to close it as the doorknob rattled, squeaking as you turned it. Alastor dissolved into shadows, determined make his entrance a grand event.

“Vox?” You called out, voice timid as you stepped through the door. “What is this place?” 

“Come on in, Dollface.” Vox called, screen shining through the dim room, “Lock the door behind you.” 

You shook your hair behind your head and rocked your hips as you walked to Vox. When you were with Vox, you took on a more sultry, forward manner. That was what Vox liked. He would dissolve into puddy in your hands. The way he would whimper as you rode him gave you such a thrill. 

“What is this place?” You asked, looking around as your heels clicked against the tile floors. 

“Old broadcasting studio.” Vox said, wrapping you in his arms as you reached him. He slotted himself behind you, making sure you were right where he wanted you. “From back in the day.” 

“Oh?” You tried to turn, wanting to indulge in the electric kiss of your lover only to be held in place. 

“You see,” Vox said, pointing with his long arm reaching out in front of you, “Right there is where I filmed and broadcasted my early shows.” 

“And what was the rest of the room used for?” You whispered, looking around as best you could only to have your blood run cold as shadows morphed and liquified, a man who’s form you were also intimately familiar with rising up from them. 

“Why, my dear,” Alastor cooed, “It was my broadcasting room.” 

“Alastor?” You tried to jerk from Vox’s arms only to be held tightly in place.

“Ha! Can you believe there was a time when TV and Radio worked together?” Alastor laughed, yellow smile glowing under the warm lights. 

“We had gotten along pretty well, back in the day,” Vox added. “We shared pretty damn well, didn’t we?” 

“Indeed,” Alastor cooed, stepping closer. “We used to share our toys well, but now?” 

“Not so much,” Vox finished for Alastor. “But someone decided to make us share anyway.” 

“Didn’t even bother telling us,” Alastor added, standing directly in front of you now. He booped your nose with the red backing of his microphone. “What do you have to say for yourself?” 

“I didn’t think you’d find out.” You tried to keep your head held high as you forced yourself to meet the red eyes of the Radio Demon. If this was how you were going to die, you would be double damned if you didn’t go down without the last word. 

“She thought we wouldn’t find out, Al!” Vox laughed loudly behind you, familiar nickname falling from his lips as if it hadn’t been decades since it had been las used. 

“No, I didn’t.” You answer, trying to tug yourself out of Vox’s arms. “I figured two arrogant old-timey assholes wouldn’t spare a thought to what I was doing when I wasn’t with them.” 

“Old-timey asshole?” Vox voiced his outrage behind you, screen glitching as you let a spark of fire out from a palm of you hand, turning it to face him. 

Their raw power far overshadowed yours’ but you were eager to at least put some distance between them. If you could get out of Vox’s arms and somehow out the door, maybe you could run fast enough to get away, then you would just have to lay low. 

Vox stepped back, shouting at the sting of the flames as they singed his suit, just as you had hoped. In the process, he left you an opening you didn’t hesitate in the slightest to take. 

Alastor was quick to step toward you, though he was met with a flash of fire. The light was blinding in the dim space, making it hard to see anything as you raced to the door, counting on the fire to keep the stronger demons busy for at least a few minutes. 

Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to a hard chest as your fingertips just grazed the doorknob. Looking down, you saw red across your abdomen, black hand gripping you, red claws digging into your side. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” The static that surrounded Alastor cackled. You tried to spark a flame, sending it to wash over the dangerous man only to have it swallowed in his shadows, snuffing it out. 

“Away from you, old man.” with no other options, you stomped on his foot. The action was born more out of reflex than hope. 

“Old man?” Alastor laughed, lifting you as if you were nothing but a petulant child, disregarding your struggles. 

“Such old men we are that you thought you needed us both.” Vox grumbled as Alastor tossed you to the ground, taking a moment to enjoy the way your skirt rose up, just failing to cover the curve of your ass. 

“What are we going to do about this?” Alastor asked as if he and Vox hadn’t already come to the conclusion, unbuttoning his coat.

“We’re going to have to teach her a lesson,” Vox said as he slipped his coat down his shoulders, tossing it onto the old dusty office chair Alastor used to sit in decades ago, broadcasting the screams of those who dared cross him. A red coat joined the blue one as both men began to circle you while they pulled their bow ties from their necks. 

“What is happening?” Your voice trembled as you scooted away, only to have a black tentacle wrap around your ankle, preventing you from trying to escape. 

“We’re going to give you exactly what you wanted,” Alastor said as he worked the first few buttons of his shirt free. 

“You wanted to have your cake and to eat it, too.” Vox said, working his way out of the red and black striped vest he wore. 

“And now you’re going to have that cake,” Alastor picked up the line with the fluidity of an old friendship you were not aware had ever existed between the two men. 

“And you’re going to clean the fucking plates,” Vox finished, unbuttoning a the first few buttons around his neck. “And you’ll have to decide which cake you want.” 

“What are you-” Alastor’s tentacle pulled you up by the ankle, suspending you in the air, cutting your words off with a squeak. 

Your hair fell around your face. The skirt you wore succumbed to the forces of gravity. You hadn’t bothered with panties or a bra, being so sure that you were going to get dicked down by the TV demon and knowing that he appreciated ease of access. 

“We’re going to fuck you,” Vox answered the question you hadn’t gotten to finish asking.

The clattering of belt buckles and unzipping of pants seemed so loud in the old room. In a matter of moments, while blood was rushing to your head, you were lowered to be eye level with the two very different and yet very impressive cocks of your lovers. 

“Open,” Alastor said, shaking you by the leg when you hesitated.

Vox wasted no time shoving his dark blue cock into your mouth, thrusting until the force pushed your torso back through the air. Reaching out, you planted your hands on his thighs, steadying yourself as he fucked into your mouth. You choked, struggling to breathe in the strange position. 

Vox didn’t stop until he was satisfied with the way your saliva coated his thick cock. Once he pulled back, you gasped for air. There wasn’t enough of a chance to ground yourself before Alastor was shoving his long cock, working his way to the back of your throat again and again. 

Spit and tears ran up your face, making a mess of your makeup when they finally righted you, setting you on the broadcasting station, currently lit up with tiny dials and switches that looked like stars. Had it been powered on before? 

“How wet do you think she is right now?” Vox asked, “She likes it rough with me.” 

“Does she?” Alastor hummed, grabbing one of your knees while Vox grabbed the other, spreading them wide. “Would you look at that? The literary overlord likes it dirty! Ha, now- why didn’t you say anything? Ma cherie, if you don’t communicate your needs, how can any one man satisfy them all?” 

“Why should one man have to satisfy them all?” You answered back, refusing to meet the eyes of your lovers. Instead your eyes ran over the old broadcasting microphone, so much like the one Alastor currently used at the hotel and yet this one was covered in dust. 

“Why shouldn’t one?” Vox asked, running a clawed finger up your sopping slit, tracing a path around your clit before moving down again, poking into your opening before moving lower still, spreading your slick over your lesser used puckered asshole. 

You moaned as his finger sank into the tight opening. Alastor reached out, caressing your clit as Vox’s finger wigged deeper inside your ass, helping your body to relax. 

“Fuck, Al- she’s so tight here,” Vox couldn’t help the way he moaned, imagining you squeezing around his cock as he added a second finger, stretching you open. 

“Is that where you’d like to be?” Alastor asked, soft smile on his face as he watched your hips twitch, betraying your stubborn silence. 

“What do you mean?” You ground out, struggling to keep your voice even as Alastor caressed you closer to the edge. 

“My, our little brat needs it spelled out for us.” Vox pushed his fingers apart as he pulled them out of you, spreading the tense ring of muscle wider again and again. 

“Of course she does,” Alastor hummed, “She was stupid enough to think she could get away with this.” 

“We’re going to fuck you,” Vox said as if that cleared things up for you, pulling his fingers from your body. 

“Together,” Alastor added, gathering your slick onto his fingers and wrapping them over his long cock, smearing it along with the drying saliva, “Now be a good girl and roll over,” 

“Make me,” you spat out only to have Alastor and Vox both do exactly that. There wasn’t much you could do to put up a fight with four hands pushing your body into position. 

“Go on,” Alastor said, motioning to Vox. 

The thickness gave Vox away as he ran his dark blue cock up and down your folds, There was no containing the moan that poured from your lips as he pushed inside your cunt, stretching you wide as he coated himself in your slick. 

“Shuffle back,” Alastor directed, kicking your feet until your abdomen hung off the edge of the control panel. Blinking your eyes, you came face to face with the microphone. It must have gotten jostled as you were bullied into place. 

Alastor reached around you, fingers playing over the nub of nerves that headed your folds, relaxing you as Vox’s cock pushed into the tight ring of muscle. It burned, even with the sweet distraction of Alastor’s fingers. 

Vox thrusted shallowly into you at first, moving slowly but never fully stopping for you to adjust. Each thrust took his fat length deeper into your ass as you cried out. Legs shook as they struggled to support your weight, knowing that if they gave out you’d fall back and spear yourself on the rest of Vox’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Vox whined, screen and voice glitching as he bottomed out, pressing his balls against your leaking cunt. Your ass was gripping him tighter than a vice and he knew it was only going to get better. “Fuck, she’s so tight.” 

“Yes, I gathered.” Alastor sounded disinterested as he motioned for Vox to get on with it. “Pull her up.” 

Vox rolled his eyes at the direction. One of them had done this before and it wasn’t Alastor, though he acted like it. Anything for appearances, anything for the show- Vox knew that. That’s just how Alastor was. 

Vox pulled you up from the broadcasting desk, reaching forward to pull the top of your dress down. One of the straps over your shoulder ripped as your breasts were exposed only to be covered by his hands.

He turned, presenting you to Alastor as if his cock wasn’t twitching inside of your ass, desperate for friction. “How’s she look?”

“Sinful,” Alastor said as he admired the view, taking in the swell of your breasts as Vox’s hands left them. One dark blue hand braced your hip, keeping your ass tight against him as the other lifted your thigh, spreading your leg open wide. 

“Fuck,” You whined as vox thrust forward, sending his cock deeper into your ass as he displayed your cunt and stretched asshole to the man you had been seeing behind his back. “Fuck, Vox.” 

“You say that now,” Alastor said, grabbing your other thigh and pulling your leg up, leaving you supported by nothing but their hands and the cock in your ass. 

Your hips jumped forward as Alastor ran the head of his cock against your clit. The thick head ran through your folds, smearing slick along his length. Vox moaned shamefully as Alastor’s cock brushed against the base of his cock, running along where your ass had swallowed him. 

“You going to wait all day?” Vox demanded, legs straining with the desire to move. 

“Oh, alright.” Alastor made a show of sighing as he lined the head of his cock up with your vaginal opening, enjoying the way your eyes widened as you realized what they intended to do. 

“No,” you said, trying to wiggle away only to find your arms held out to the sides by dark ropes of shadows, “I can’t- it- it won’t fit. I can’t fit you both,” 

“You can,” Vox promised. 

“You will,” Alastor added as the head of his cock pushed inside. 

You could feel him pushing against the thin wall that separated the two pathways. From the way Vox moaned deeply, screen leaning forward to rest against he back of your head, he could feel Alastor’s cock pushing into you as well. 

“Fffffuck,” Alastor groaned as he reached deeper and deeper inside you, running along Vox’s cock, “so tight like this.” 

“I told you,” Vox was panting as your opening grew tighter around his cock. His mind struggled to think of anything but the way Alastor’s cock caressed his through the thin walls. 

Alastor stilled, bottoming out within you. His head hung over your shoulder, breath washing over both your shoulder and Vox’s. He could feel the twitch of Vox inside you, the difference of sensation nearly too much. With a rock of his hips, Alastor moaned as his balls pressed unto you, nestling between his cock and Vox’s.

The sensation was overwhelming, threatening to take him over the edge before he had begun. That would simply not do. There was a point to be made. The show must go on. 

Alastor took a deep breathe, willing his self-control to steady before pulling back. The thrust into you that followed was so harsh it sent your body bouncing up, pulling up along Vox’s shaft. 

“Fuck,” Vox whined, grip on your hips guiding your bouncing body as you fell back down on his cock as Alastor pulled back. Using the space Alastor vacated, Vox thrust up, bouncing you on the head of Alastor’s cock. 

In a few short thrusts, they had found a rhythm that was punishing for you and yet sustainable for them. As soon as one cock withdrew from your body, another was shoving in. Vox reached around your torso, pinching a nipple harshly between his claws as your body bounced. 

“You’re so tight, babydoll,” Vox cooed in your ear, bathing in the gasping moans that were quickly growing in volume. 

“Taking us so well,” Alastor wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you down against the cocks rutting into you one after the other. The slight change of angle had your clit rubbing against the fur at the base of Alastor’s cock with each of his thrusts. 

“Ah! Fuck,” You cried out as Alastor leaned forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. 

“Fuck, Al!” Vox moaned even as he tried t put on a show of disgust. He had always said he found Alastor’s cannibalistic habits distasteful, but the truth was, the only distasteful thing was what the sight did to him. 

Alastor moaned, feeling you tighten around his cock, orgasm drawing near. He was close too, the taste of your blood on his tongue driving him to thrust faster into you. Vox was likewise close, Alastor knew. There was no hiding the way the other man twitched in your ass, rubbing against Alastor’s cock with each move he made. 

“Who’s fucking you?” Vox demanded as he twisted your nipple, a delicious pain that was such a part of your rough fucks with Vox sending tightening waves through your cunt. 

“You,” you panted, drool running from the corner of your mouth as your head lulled. “You are.” 

“Who’s fucking your ass?” Vox asked, smiling at the camera you hadn’t noticed was set up in the corner. “Tell the viewers.” 

“Vox,” you whined, not registering what he said. 

“And tell the listeners who’s taking your cunt?” Alastor said, pulling the microphone closer to ensure your voice was picked up clearly. 

“A-ah- Alastor,” you clenched around them. “I’m so close,” 

“Good girl,” Vox purred, electric tongue running up the back of your neck, sending tinkles down your spine. “You going to cum on our cocks now?” 

“Yes,” you repeated the answer, a chant growing in volume as both men thrust into you, too many hands holding your body steady as they lost their coordinated rhythm, “Yes, yes, yes!” 

You screamed as you came, body convulsing from your fingertips to your toes. Your cry bounced off the walls in the old room, mixing with the grunted moans and hissed curses as first Vox found his release, seed spilling deep into your ass. Alastor was two short thrusts after, dumping his load of hot cum into your waiting walls. 

Vox leaned back, chest rising and falling in rapid pants as he collapsed onto the desk, not giving a shit about what buttons or dials he could be messing with. Each twitch of the cocks inside your abused body had you crying out. 

Alastor pulled you up off of Vox’s spent cock, not removing his own until he was ready to set your feet on the ground. Seed mixed and ran down legs that failed to support your weight. 

It felt like you couldn’t get enough air in your lungs as your body trembled with the aftershocks of the orgasm. Blackness overcame your vision as you laid down on the cold ground, letting the icy tile ground you. 

“Well, that was fun,” Vox said, winded voice coming through the darkness. 

“Surprisingly so,” Alastor’s voice was the last thing you heard as exhaustion overtook you. 

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!

[scoutswritingcorner]

hi!! it’s raccoon anon, i saw your post abt not writing for al as often after i put the ask in 🤦 i apologize and could i instead ask for more huskerdust? maybe some overlord!husk loving on angie and reader (raccoon demon ofc) after a rough day at the casino? (just an idea ofc totally up to you!) :D

Casino Troubles

Overlord HuskerDust x Male!Racoon Demon Reader

A/N: RACOON ANON!! I missed you friend and don’t worry about sending in that Alastor request! I’ll still do it, it’s gonna just take me a little longer than usual! Also I didn’t know if you meant both Husk and Angel were overlords so I went with that but if you want me to rewrite it, don’t be afraid to hit me up! ALSO I HAVE TWO NSFW WORKS FOR OVERLORD HUSKERDUSK IN THE MAKING-

TW: A little angst, cursing, talks about a gun being pointed at you, depictions of violence and gore.

After a horrible day between you and Angel, Husk decides to spoil the shit out of you both.

It had been a rough day for you to start with, this morning when you had woken up to a loud crash as someone made the decision to try and take you out by cutting the elevator cables but severally miscalculated and immediately broke the elevator also while getting shot by Angel’s security when they tried to leave the casino. Now thankfully Angel and Husk were gone to an Overlord meeting that morning but it scared the everloving shit out of you that you had called Husk in a panic. You were stuck in the penthouse for hours (which wasn’t a problem but it still annoyed you to no end.) Then when you had finally made it down into the Casino, just wanting to meet with Husk and Angel outside as they came back from whatever extra business they attended whilst waiting for the elevator to be fixed. But as soon as you did, one of Angel’s newest recruits (or maybe a dumbass who knows) decided you weren’t who you said you were and threw you out on your ass with a pistol to your forehead.  

The hammer cocked back as his finger was tapping on the trigger and you were fully expecting to be shot down. But then Angel’s voice rang out and then the damn fool was on the ground blood seeping from his neck and chest as Angel bends down. “Oh shit- You okay baby? He didn’t rough you up too much did he?” Angel’s voice cracking from how worried he was, “Did he pistol whip you?” He asked, watching as a bruise formed on your cheek and tears formed in your eyes. Angel looked around as two guards strolled out, snapping at them with a venom you only heard behind his closed office door, the venom he saved for his enemies and the occasional idiot who tried to harm you. The guards flinched and quickly dragged the body away as Angel sighed, his hand cupping your face and wiping your tears. “I just wanted to greet you-” You had sobbed out leaning into his hand, “I get fucking jumped in the casino cause they didn’t believe me.” You continued flinching as your head started to throb, you felt pathetic. Angel quickly picked you up storming into the casino, ignoring everybody as he made a beeline towards the elevator. You hid your face into his shoulder the bright lights, smells and sounds of the casino intensifying the headache. 

It was only a few moments but it felt like an hour the whole elevator ride up, he carefully walked to the bedroom and frowned despite how shitty his day turned out especially after hearing what had happened this morning. He knew he had to up his defenses but now he had to comb through everything because his sweet little boyfriend got hurt…almost got killed by an idiot with a fucking gun. He carefully sat you on the bed, watching as your tail curled towards yourself and you didn’t dare remove yourself from his grasp. “I’m sorry, Handsome.” He whispered out, he fully blamed himself.

~~~~

When Husk had gotten the call from Angel Dust about what had happened, the poor tomcat had raised hell. His temper flared so bad he had to make sure he didn’t bring it home with him especially when his two favorite men had a horrible day. So once he took care of his anger he had rushed back home with treats and small gifts, he hummed a soft tune as he snubbed out his cigar in one of the many ashtrays placed around the casino ignoring how some of the patrons ran off at the sight of him and his guards stood taller, seems like the damage had been done and now Angel was on a warpath. Husk couldn’t deny he was too, he would kill every single rat in his own casino if it meant making sure you were safe. Angel could handle himself in a fight just fine but they both worried about you, their sweet boyfriend. 

As soon as the elevators opened with a soft ding he waltzed into the penthouse, everything where it was placed last. A frown tugged at his lips at how quiet it was, he didn’t like it. He placed the treats in the fridge, you could enjoy them later, he waltzed towards the bedroom to see the room was dark as it could be as Angel held you close to his chest, his lower set of arms were rubbing your back carefully. Waltzing closer as he shrugged his suit jacket off and placed it on the armchair in the corner of the room, he noticed how your cheeks were stained with tears. Angel had given him a soft yet strained smile that tore his heart up, “How are you both feeling?” He asked softly not too loud just in case you had fallen asleep. “He’s..been better.” Angel replied hearing your soft snores, “Got roughed up bad, when I got there he..they almost killed him, Husky.” Angel teared up looking away from the feline. “If I hadn’t gotten there in time-” His voice cracked as Husk moved to sit down on the edge of Angel’s side. “But you did, Angel. He’s safe, we are safe.” Husk quickly cut him off and kissed his cheek, wiping any tears from his eyes. “They're dead right?” He hummed watching Angel nod and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Let’s go take a bath and let me pamper my boys?” He asked purring loudly as Angel flushed the strained smile replaced with a real smile.

Husk moved to lean over towards your sleeping form and pressed gentle kisses to your face being careful not to touch the forming bruise, you whined and slowly opened your eyes, “C’mon pretty boy, can I see your handsome face?” He asked, causing you to chuckle and stretch your back out. “I think he might need some more, Husky~” Angel teased as his hands gently pressed into your sides as Husk easily climbed over Angel to press more kisses onto your face, his tail swaying happily. The fear and anger dissipating easily into laughter as you try to return all the kisses both of them gave you.

[libraryraccoon]

Since it’s near the end of his birthday week can I request a Azul Reader with the Vees?

I think it would be pretty interesting how their dynamic is and when they learn of Azul reader being insecure about himself and especially with his past of being bullied for being a chubby child.

Gender : Male

Pronouns used : None

Message of Raccoon : I decided to add Floyd!Reader and Jade!Reader because yes.

Vees

Vox is the one who hired you after seeing you make a demon do a contract.

At that time you already had a bit of a reputation in Hell, but it was Vox that really got you moving forward/entering in the business.

You do the contracts for the Vees, taking care of all the paperwork.

You quickly became an integral part of the Vees, they even wanted to rename you Vazul!Reader..

…

It was Valentino who proposed the name, which you refused.

Valentino felt offended when you said his name ideas were crap.

You are the gentleman of the Vees !! And you have simps !

You are in a lot of edits in the tik tok of Hell, I just know it.

You often attend meetings of the Overlords, representing the Vees. Alastor was confused that a gentleman like you ended up with the Vees.

He asked if you sold your soul to them, something you denied.

I can see some overlords being suspicious of you and giving you side eyes when they learn that you are the new Overlord of the Vees.

None of them expected you to be a gentleman.

Floyd!Reader and Jade!Reader are your right-hand men. As soon as they saw that you had ended up in Hell, they directly gave you their souls without discussion. You didn't even ask them to sold their souls-

Floyd!reader always tries to kill Val every time they see him, you always have to stop them before anything bad happen.

Velvette, one day, found you having a panic attack, she managed to calm you down after a few minutes.

You told her about all your insecurities and Velvette tried to help you about it.

I headcanon that Velvette already had to take care of Vox's insecurities, but now she must take care of Vox's insecurities and yours..

Someone give her a break-

For making you stop thinking about it, she probably makes you watch a movie with the other Vees.

Velvette probably told Vox about your insecurities, but told him to not tell it to Valentino.

Valentino can't be trusted when it comes to insecurities.

Vox 🤝 Azul!Reader = having too much insecurities.

You and Vox are these two traumatized friends who support each other.

Valentino doesn't know about you being insecure and just thinks you're a confident and well-mannered overlord.

You're kind of like the Vees' father, making sure they don't do too much chaos.

You and Velvettes are the ones who take care of fixing Vox after Valentino breaks his TV/face again.

I can see Azul!Reader playing some kind of secretary to the Vees, making sure they go to all their meetings and reminding them what they need to do today.

When they saw your photos of chubby babies, they find it very cute.

Velvette asked you why you didn't like your old self, especially when you were so cute.

When they learned that you were bullied as a child for being chubby, they tried to track down the assholes throughout Hell.

Vox may or may not have broadcast their murders on TV while Velvette broadcast it on internet.

Valentino would have liked to publish it on his platform, but unfortunately an execution on a porn site would not have looked very professional and would have been frowned upon.

I can just see you having a family dynamic with the Vees tbh.

[sharenadraculea]

Fem!Primarch Au Ideas

Lion El‘Jonson: Is sligthly better at social stuff. Which might just be that it‘s more socially more acceptable on Caliban for a unmarried woman to refuse to speak to men. Officially spends most of her time telling Luther what to say and letting him do the social things. Unofficially has a crossdressing knight-persona to go out and do stuff. It took E like three days to figure out that that knight and Lion are in fact the same person. Might keep the knight-persona even after beeing found. Also she had a habit of sending all suitors on impossible quests in Caliban‘s forests where they would painfully die.

Fulgrim: Chemos has little to no genders. Either you can work or you are dead, what‘s in your pants doesn‘t really matter. Anyways, then Fulgrim get‘s discovered, introduced to the concept of gender and is now very anxious about performing gender expectations correctly. It isn‘t working very well. Guess who might not actually be a woman

Perturabo: Kind of got attic-daugthered by Dammekos, because of course all of that were his ideas, not the ones of a little girl. Perty is not amused by this. She later is in possesion of at least half the warcrime‘s squad braincells (the warcrime squad is a found family thing Angron, Sang, Perty and Konrad have going on), provides all the artillery support for them and is the main Konrad-handler (after Fulgrim of course). I haven‘t yet decided how much they are kissing.

Jaghatai Khan: Something, something crossdressing. Might kiss Morty. That‘s all my notes so far.

Leman Russ: I‘m really not yet sure what to do with Leman, because I could just do some purely cosmetic changes and it would be fine enough. But also I could do some really drastic changes… for example if I remember correctly in viking culture (which is what I‘m going off for Leman) magic was seen as a womens thing so you know ice-witch Leman would be fun

Konrad Curze: Still wondering if gender is something you can eat. Mostly cosmetic changes, but they are a bit more mentally stable due to the support of the warcrime-squad. I‘m considering giving Konrad a decently bad case of has-the-voice-of-a-little-kid, because that would be pretty creepy.

Sanguinius: I‘m going with the „Sanguinus was a slave as a child“-headcanon I‘ve seen in multiple fics and really like. So Sang had some pretty dark stuff happen to her and overall ends up beeing much less nice and more angry, the vibe is „Vampire warlord collecting the heads of her enemies“ and I love it a lot.

Angron: Is still Angron, no big changes here except she and Sang are kind of a couple

Roboute Guilliman: Had to spend a significant of time arguing over beeing allowed into politics directly (instead of doing the proper thing of marrying some old guy, puppeting him from behind the scenes and cashing in on the inheritence). Also Konor is still alive in this au, since Rob happend to be in the senate that day and carrying a hidden sword for entierly non nefarious reasons.

Mortarion: So Calas Typhon‘s mother was drowned for having a child with a overlord (presumably not voluntarely). If people start to suspect something similar happend to Morty, it‘s gonna be very good that Primarchs are very hard to kill. Especially if people don‘t take „there never was a child“ for a answer for where the nonexistent kid is, and start spreading rumors that Morty killed or abandoned it.

And I don‘t yet really have much or anything at all for the rest, so Rogal Dorn, Ferrus Manus, Magnus, Horus, Lorgar, Vulkan, Corvus and Alpharius Omegon, but feel free to give me some ideas

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Sixteen

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers,

I'm so sorry! I've been so sick, but do not fret this fic is still alive!

Events of this fic take place right after Western Energy S2E4 of Helluva Boss. Full Moon events have not yet happened.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Sixteen - Let's Kill God

Content Warning: Minors DNI!!!!!! Mentions of murder-suicide

Alastor smiles in his sleep. 

It’s not his Radio Demon smile. It’s not his half-cocked know-it-all grin. It’s a soft upturn of the lips, a bittersweet smile that’s more sweet than bitter. One that can only be worn properly by the innocence of youth and not by an Overlord of Hell. You’ve only seen that look on his face once before: in Louisiana. 

Over a round of King Cakes, Alastor told you of his mother and her joy. He made her seem perfect: the exact embodiment of what a mother should be. Your heart twisted in your chest for him. To have been loved, cared for, and cherished like that and then to have lost her in such a violent way…

Still, to have a mother ~period~ and one who raised such a respectable gentleman (despite the murders and cannibalism) is a treasure. In this moment, seeing the peace on Alastor’s sleeping face, you understand why he became the Bayou Strangler and then later the Radio Demon. To go after men of such caliber, of such terrible deeds over and over again. To prevent further violence and murder, those men might have committed.  

It was like he was saving his mother over and over again with each of their deaths. 

Alastor then wasn’t the Alastor you knew now. He was a completely different person before his father shot his mother in a murder-suicide. Just an innocent young man looking to make his own way in this world, all the while just trying to make his mother smile. He was powerless then and he’d never let himself be powerless ever again. 

That’s where his thirst first took root: a legend born of violence. Not much different from yourself. 

Alastor attempted to turn over in his sleep, but when his body couldn’t subconsciously turn from his back to his side, it woke him. The demon blinked out of synch, his left eye blinking and then his right, as if blinking the blanket of sleep away. It was cute, the way he dreamily met your gaze and smiled even wider. You couldn’t help but match his grin. 

“It seems I am trapped,” his voice was groggy as he spoke. 

“Oh, no. Whatever shall you do?” You joked. 

You woke not long ago, minutes before the demon stirred himself. Eventually, the silence of the room woke you. There was no music on his radio, no static - a barrier of white noise to keep out the silence that haunted your dreams. 

When you had woken you didn’t move. At some point in the night your wings had appeared and cocooned the two of you in a black blanket of feathers. It’s a good thing your feathers were soft - unlike some of your brothers whose wings poked and itched like Hell whenever you rubbed up against them. 

Alastor scooted closer to you, his eyelids drooping. The demon once told you he barely ever slept - his own personal curse. Yet, last night, the two of you passed out the second your heads hit the pillow. 

It had been a long, exhausting day, after all…

The thought that Alastor finally found some peace was a relief to you and most likely explained the radio silence. His body was finally able to relax, which meant he felt safe here, cocooned in your swaddle of protection. 

You snuggled up into the demon, not wanting to leave the warmth of your embrace, which encased the two of you from head to knees - well, your calves and Alastor’s knees. 

Alastor pressed a kiss to your forehead, “How are you this morning, mon couer?” 

You sighed in the fluff of his chest at the sound of Alastor’s raw and unfiltered voice, “Sore.” 

It was true. Your body had taken a beating - most notably your lower abdomen.

Alastor chuckled, the vibrations running through his chest and into your own. God, you’d kill if only to hear that sound again, a moment more. 

The demon ran a hand through your hair, the other trapped beneath the pillow supporting your head. Alastor shivered when you ran your foot across his calves and over his hooves. 

Hooves. Damn. Alastor was the only demon classy enough to not only make them look posh but also sexy at the same time. If only Hell knew. Maybe he would have won Hell’s Hottest Bachelor, after all. 

As the demon massaged your scalp, your wings tightened as if sensing the end of your perfect moment slowly slipping away. The two of you have been hiding up here since the fight. You hadn’t called anyone or texted anyone to let them know that you were alive - not that you could text, but Alastor did have a hidden landline. Rosie was probably the only one to think that the two of you didn’t kill each other off and that’s only because she was playing matchmaker and was still holding out. Everyone else? They are going to be pissed.

“What’s wrong?” Alastor asked, cupping your chin and tilting your face into his. The red of Alastor’s irises burned into your cheeks. 

If you ever found whatever force designed Humann Sinners’ demon forms, you would thank it a million times over for this man. 

Apparently, you had sighed a bit too loud at the thought of Angel throttling you when you got back to the Hotel.

“I just… I don’t want this to end,” you swallowed dryly. “I’ve had so few perfect moments in my life that I’ve learned to appreciate one when I am in it, but I'm desperate for them to never end.” 

Honestly, you had no idea what life was going to look like now, what it was going to look like when the two of you went back to the Hotel -  if there was a Hotel to go back to. What if Charlie didn’t want you there anymore? All your presence would do is invite competition, just as Sir Pentious came seeking Alastor that first fateful day you met. Not to mention the sheer emotional and mental damage you put Charlie through by lying to her about who you really are. 

Charlie had every reason to hate you and every reason to kick you out. What then? Would the rest of the Hotel gang still want to be friends with someone like you? It’s bad enough they know you're an Angel, but an Archangel at that… Mikaela Morningstar, the famous Golden Girl and General of all of God’s armies, and now a Hotel guest of Princess Morningstar. That’s a sentence you never thought you’d say. 

So no, you didn’t want to leave your little cocoon of protection just yet, but you knew you needed to. You had to face reality eventually…

“This does not have to end,” Alastor breathed into your hair, the demon woefully intoxicated on your scent.

You scrunch your nose in confusion. 

The demon ran his thumb over your cheek, “Join me for dinner tonight and we can pick up right where we left off?” 

A flock of butterflies erupted in your chest, “Alastor Hartfelt, are you asking me on a date?” 

As if in response, the radio on the side table flickered to life. Alastor smiled his half-cocked grin as Nat King Cole’s “Darling je vous aime beaucoup” thrummed to life on the radio. 

Oh, my God. A date. A date with the Radio Demon? A date with the Radio Demon! A date with Alastor! You’d compare this sensation to how you felt when Vox asked you out - repeatedly, you might add - but didn’t want to think of the overgrown iPod while you were naked in bed with Alastor. 

“I…” You smiled in disbelief. “I…”

“Say yes,” Alastor’s free hand found your hip. He pulled you flush against him, running his claws down your thigh, he hooked it over his waist. Your leg sat perfectly in the dip of where his hip crested - as if it was designed just for you. 

Actually, all of Alastor fit you like a glove: his hands a perfect cup full for your breasts; the way his curves matched yours as you lay enveloped within each other on your sides; he was the perfect height for you to lean into him and rest your head on the fluff of his chest. 

“Yes,” you said, capturing his lips with yours, but pulled back with a gasp as Alastor flipped you atop him. 

Straddling Alastor’s waist, your wings instinctively stretched out, unfolding to their full width. Groaning, you rolled your shoulders, working out the stiffness that had cultivated overnight. How long were you unconsciously cuddling Alastor like that? 

“Absolutely breathtaking,” the demon lay mesmerized by your feathers. Capturing a feather between his fingers, the demon traced the length of its spine, relishing in the softness of the black vane. 

Rarely have your wings been touched by hands not your own. Pain. Your wings have only known pain. In battle, they’ve been stabbed by steel, sliced by arrows, singed by magic… Bare hands have only ripped and shredded your plume. Never have they been touched by strong yet gentle hands. It was almost a shock to the system to feel his fingers caress your feathers.   

And, apparently, wings are very sensitive…  

You saw the question in his eyes before he even asked it. “I didn’t portal to Hell the day Rosie found me,” you shuttered when he collected another feather between his fingers, this one lower down and longer than the previous. “I slipped between the planes, the way a Soul would after it died. I didn’t notice that my wings had turned black or my hair grey until after Carmilla strung me up from the ceiling of Rosie’s back room, and the evidence was lying at my feet.” 

Alastor’s expression suddenly changed, his eyebrows knit together, his smile flattened to a thin line. “Did it hurt?”

You blinked. “Did what hurt?” 

“When you fell from Heaven?” A half-cocked smile slowly spread across his face. 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Before you had a chance to stop him, Alastor flipped you again, this time placing himself on top. With wings splayed out around you - the tips just barely brushing the edge of Alastor’s gigantic mattress - the demon’s body encased your own. The fluff of his chest pressed into your bare breasts as he leaned in for a kiss. His tongue strokes yours for the briefest of moments before retreating. 

“How I do so enjoy the taste of you, mon couer,” the demon purred, placing one hand beside your head to support himself. The other found the crest of your wings. Tracing the bend in your black cape with his finger, the demon maintained eye contact, watching as your lips parted, the gasp escaping your teeth. 

His eyes sparked. “And that look, that sound - that reassures me that I have ensnared you as much as you have me.” 

“I think you also like torturing me,” you breathed, your heart kicking up as Alastor aligned his hips with yours. You were both naked - having foregone even the bathrobes not long after your session on the balcony. 

Alastor tilted his head back and laughed before wrapping his hands around your waist and tugging you down into him. Alastor’s cock was pressed firmly between your hips and his, settling on your lower belly. You debated folding your wings away, but the thought of fucking Alastor while his fingers stroked your feathers…

“Mon couer, I love torturing you.”

Before you had a chance to question his choice of words, Alastor sheathed himself inside you. You cry out at the sudden sensation, but already, he is withdrawing and thrusting back in. Wrapping your arms around his neck… 

There was a pull behind your navel. You stopped abruptly, your entire body freezing. Alastor also froze, sensing the sudden change. 

Orange and mint. Your vision was flooded with the hues of purple. Fuck. “Octavia,” you breathed. 

Alastor slowly pulled out, moving so you could jump to your feet. “The armoire on the left.”

Folding your wings in and magicking them away, you jumped to your feet. The wooden wardrobe was stocked with clothes you had never seen before—all obviously here for you. Move now, question later. Grabbing for a pair of pants, you searched the room for the black underwear and bra Alastor took off you yesterday two days ago? 

“Top drawer,” Alastor motioned to the dresser by the bathroom door. The demon sat on the bed, his elbows on his knees, the sheets covering his more sensitive parts - the parts your heart really wanted to see. 

You pulled open the first drawer, questioningly, before slamming it shut. “That is not underwear,” you couldn’t help but snort. 

Alastor raised an eyebrow. 

“Was that Rosie’s idea or yours?” You pulled on the slacks as Alastor ditched the bedsheets for a closer look. You stared then, taking your fill of where exactly that red happy trail led before he pulled open the drawer. 

The demon looked as shocked as you did, but there was an underlying hint of devilry that gleamed in his eye. Okay, so it was Rosie’s idea, but Alastor was more than pleased by it. You huffed and pulled out the least scandalous bra in the drawer—red, of course—and spun before pulling it on. You couldn’t look Alastor in the eye for fear you might never leave this bedroom again - not that you were complaining. 

The demon grabbed a grey sweater with a turtle neck - the same color as your hair - and a black clip. He held it behind you as you threaded your arms through the sleeves. Alastor took the buttons from you while you flipped your hair into a knot, the metal securing it in place. You did a double-take. Was Alastor taking care of you? 

SNAP! A portal appeared. The color of the sky told you it was the Pride Ring. What was Octavia doing in the Sinner Circle? 

The demon wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Fuck, he was still hard. 

A wave of cold breezed past your ankles. “You’re not sending me alone.” A statement, not a question.

Alastor pressed a kiss to your forehead as a cold breeze swam past your ankles again: Rolf. You should have guessed - the demon didn’t leave you alone when you were his enemy, why would he start now when you were his… His what exactly? You didn’t dare ask, it was too soon, too early to broach that topic. But one thing did pop into your head as you stepped through the crack in reality: what were you going to tell Rosie?

 The Radio Demon smirked as he handed you a pair of shoes, “Till tonight, mon couer.”

POP! The portal closed, leaving you with a pair of brand-new Mary Janes in a dirty alleyway. You allowed yourself one final breath to think of the demon who so often took it away before bolting for the street. 

It was time to move. 

“Stolas got what? How…? He can get hurt?” Blitz’s voice carried over the crowd of reporters swarming the main entrance to St. An’s Hospital. 

What the fuck is going…

“Thestral!” Octavia appears behind you before you got a chance to speak, tugging you towards the I.M.P. Crew who looked absolutely defeated. 

Millie and Moxie are covered in blood. Loona’s in a cone. Blitz just looks absolutely dumbstruck. What is happening? 

“Where is he?” Octavia demands of the group. The poor owlette looks scared out of her mind. Which is saying a lot because she rarely shows emotion on her face. The girl could cycle through five different emotions and if you couldn’t hear the inflection in her voice you would never know what she was thinking. 

“They just took ‘em inside,” Millie bows her head. 

“How…” Blitz’s voice cracks. The imp continues to stare into the crowd, his mind still not truly processing the events unfolding before him. Meanwhile Loona is passed out in the back seat of the van. 

Jesus, what kind of day did they have? More importantly, why are you being summoned only now? Or had you been summoned earlier but were too busy to notice? 

Guilt sours in your stomach. 

Octavia takes one look at the crowd, and immediately you know what she’s thinking. 

“Rolf,” I whisper, knowing the shadow can hear me. “Get us up there.” 

Taking hold of Octavia’s arm, Rolf shadows you into a sterile white hallway. A team of plague doctors work vehemently behind a glass wall, doing whatever it is healers do to injured Goetia Princes. 

A sob rocks through Octavia’s chest as she collapses against the window. You do your best to catch her, your mind flitting through a million different scenarios as to how exactly this could have happened. 

Angels can die. Goetian Princes can get hurt. 

What next…? 

____________________________________________

It had been hours before the plague doctors allowed you and Octavia to enter the room. It was hours while you stood there and did nothing but watch. You could have healed him right then and there with your blood. You could have done something to ease his suffering instantly…

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not with the media breathing down your neck outside and an entire hospital monitoring his health. Hell knew you were an Angel, but they didn’t know what you could do. That was a secret you weren’t going to share but you did let yourself think about it if only for a moment. 

You stared down at your hands, your blackened fingers looking more elegant and refined than lethal. They didn’t look like weapons—not like Alastor’s claws. Your skin was soft, absent of callouses and scars a battle-borne soldier should have. In fact, you never scarred, save for the bite mark that refused to fade from your neck. It’s almost as if your body heard your wish and kept that one just for you. 

But your hands… If you didn’t know any better, you’d say they were hands of healing, not hurting. Was that what you were intended for before Father dug his twisted sense of morals into your brain? If not, then why gift you with the power of healing? Lucifer couldn’t do that. None of your brothers could. Their blood was golden, but it wasn’t magical. 

Why was yours? 

You swallowed that thought, the emotions burning your throat as you made to stand. You had to get back to the Hotel eventually, and Octavia was passed out in the chair at her dad’s side, a blanket thrown over her sleeping form. 

“She won’t forgive you when she finds out, you know?” Stolas’ voice shakes you from your thoughts. How long had he been awake? 

“Stolas,” you find your seat once more. “I’m sorry I…”

“You did not know,” the Prince answers softly, afraid of waking his sleeping owlette. “Neither did Octavia.”

“What happened?” You whisper back.

“Take Octavia to her mother, will you?” He changes the subject. If he didn’t want to talk about it, you didn’t blame him. You’ve seen enough shell-shocked soldiers to know when to leave it be. At least he was awake and talking.

“I will,” you breathe. Stolas still thought you were trustworthy enough to take care of his daughter even though…? “I gave myself away in Louisiana, didn’t I?” The keys. He knew a Human Sinner couldn’t cross between Rings. Yesterday’s news merely confirmed it. 

Stolas met your gaze then, his usual soft eyes now full of… despair. “You have protected my daughter like you would a sister, and for that, I am grateful, but after today…” The Prince huffed. “Take her to her mother and take the card with you.” 

You blinked. “Stolas, I would never hurt Octavia…”

“Take. It. With. You.” The Prince commanded, steel coating his words. “And the keys…” He added as an afterthought. 

You didn’t dare say another word. The message was clear as day. Fuck, you couldn’t argue with him. Your mere presence invited trouble now that Hell knew who and what you were. Regardless of how you run into Octavia in the future, you’d be putting her at risk just by being around her. 

And Stolas was a father scorned…

You nodded your head before collecting a sleeping Octavia in your arms. 

“Goodbye Stolas…” And Rolf shadowed you into darkness. 

____________________________________________

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Keenie squeaked. 

“Of course, I’m sure!” Cletus barked from his place beside her. 

“I’m so excited!” Collin sang. 

The three banished Cherubs stood peaking around the corner, searching the growing mob of media crowding the front doors. 

“She’s not just going to walk right in the front door!” Keenie argued, the yellow floof of her hair swaying with the shake of her head. “Look at how many demons are here!” 

“Well, how else is she going to get in?” Cletus argued. 

“Oh! Oh! During the Battle of Troy, she convinced the Greeks to build a giant wooden horse to hide inside…” Collin began.

Cleatus banged him on top of the head. “Would you shut up!? Mikaela Morningstar isn’t going to sneak inside the Hazbin Hotel in a horse! This isn’t one of your fan club meetings!” 

Two days ago, Cleatus received a phone call from Rachel, who had given them an ultimatum. Track down the rogue Angel and bring her home. In exchange, they earn back their place in Heaven. 

Then Cleatus got the picture. 

And Collin went ape-shit.

“Hey! The Golden Girls are not just a fan club, okay? We are a group of warriors who would volunteer our lives if General Morningstar were to ever go to war again! We have studied, we have trained…”

“We are annoying!” Keenie interrupted him. “I swear if I have to hear one more…!” 

“Stop it!” Kleatus jumped in the middle. “Look!” 

The Cherub pointed down the road to a figure melting from the shadows. A silver-haired, pale-faced woman took one look at the growing crowd blocking the entrance to the Hotel before taking a step back and disappearing once more. It was but a moment but it was long enough. 

“That’s her!” Collin’s jaw was practically on the floor, his eyes glazed over in amazement. “The last time I saw her in person was during the Welcome Home parade after the last Crusades on Earth!”

Kleatus and Keenie nodded at one another. 

It was confirmed. Their target was none other than the famous Archangel Mikaela Morningstar. And they were going to bring her home whether she liked it or not. 

____________________________________________

Niffty’s voice was the first one you heard as you shadowed into the lobby of the Hotel. “Yeah. Where are your tits?”

Vaggie sighs, “Any other questions?”

Husk grumbles, “I got one. How come every time Charlie talks to Heaven, we get in deeper and deeper shit?”

The gang hadn’t noticed you yet as you quietly tiptoed into the foyer—well, except for Alastor. The zip of static running down your spine told you he was here, and he knew you were, too. You hadn’t really talked to the crew since the big reveal. You didn’t know how they were going to take it, but walking in on a conversation such as this was not boding well for you. 

The ex-exorcist rubs her temples, “It's not her fault. Angels are just…”

Angel Dust interrupts, “Liars?”

And the other shoe drops…

“Mikaela, how lovely it is for you to finally join us!” Alastor lights up like a Christmas tree as you round the corner.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him in a newly pressed black tailored suit. Seems Rosie made him more than one, but this one put him in all black - even the suit jacket beneath. His hair was tied back from his face into a short ponytail at the back of his head, accenting his sharp teeth as he beamed at you. 

God, you loved this man in form-fitting black. It made the butterflies in your belly fly circles in anticipation. And his hair? You never wanted to wear your hair up again for fear of never feeling Alastor’s fingers combing through it ever again. Meanwhile, you never wanted Alastor to wear his down. He was too handsome, too deadly, too enticing, with his hair pulled back from his face. 

You froze as all eyes fell on you. 

Fuck. What do you do? Do you greet Alastor back and find a seat? Do you sit by him? Do you sit far away from him? Do you not even respond at all? Do you respond normally - wait, what would normal even look like!? 

You didn’t know what to do. You and Alastor hadn’t had a talk to straighten out whatever was between you. You didn’t establish boundaries or titles - if there were even titles to be given. No, this was all too soon. Maybe Alastor didn’t even want to have any titles? Maybe he wanted to keep this all a secret? Revealing what you meant to him…

Alastor stood and crossed the distance between the two of you before you could even think. Claiming your hand in his, the demon pressed a kiss to the top and smiled, “Tu es toujours aussi belle, ma cherie. You look as lovely as ever, my darling.”

You sucked in a breath, waiting for the others’ reactions.

“I’m outta ‘ere!” Angel threw his many hands in the air before stomping away. The spider demon stormed up the stairs, not daring even a glance in your direction. 

Was Angel mad at you?

“Come,” Alastor leads you to the sofa as Rolf swirls around your feet. “Take a seat.” 

The demon sat you at the end of the couch, directly adjacent to the armchair he had been inhabiting before you showed up. 

Husk gave you a quick nod as you passed, signaling that things between the two of you were good. However, the nasty look he shot Alastor after displayed his disapproval of that situation. Yet the group did not comment. Probably too afraid of what Alastor might do, had they. 

“Charlie’s trying her best,” Vaggie continued. The Ex-Exorcist didn’t know what to make of you in that moment, her eyes constantly flitting back to Alastor who was currently humming in his chair, nonchalantly listening to the conversation. The demon did love gossip.

You had a sickening feeling that Vaggie’s eventual confrontation was coming. Not at this moment, however. She had enough on her plate to deal with. 

Husk took a swig of his drink. “Yeah, well, her best is turning out real well so far.” 

You blinked, finally noting the Princess’ absence. “Where is Charlie anyway?” 

Vaggie shot you a look you couldn’t smell - the scents too muddled together. Exasperation? Annoyance? Sadness? Guilt. Definitely guilt. “She’s upstairs. Coming up with something. I’m sure. In our room. Alone.” 

Alastor’s “Hmm,” would have been barely perceptible had you not been hyper-aware of the demon’s every move. Alastor leaned in, “I’ll be back in a moment, ma cherie.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “What happened to ‘mon couer?” You teased.

The demon’s grin turned sideways. “I think that’s best saved for when we are… alone.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Can hear everything the two of you are saying,” Husk grumbled next to you. “Just so ya’ know.” 

Your face heated as Alastor melted into shadow, silently giggling as Rolf whisked him away. 

Nifty ran to the base of your shoes, “Where are your wings?” 

POP! 

The black mass of feathers unfurled behind you 

“Ooooohhhhh,” Sir Pentious clapped. “Ssssssssplendid!” 

“Owe!” You jumped. 

Nifty grabbed a fistful of feathers. The tiny demon laughed maniacally, “For my collection.” Then she took off to who knows where to do who knows what. 

Yet again, you repeat to yourself, Nifty was not a mystery you wanted to solve. 

“Show off,” you heard Vaggie mutter. 

Okay, you kinda felt bad about Vaggie’s situation, but now everyone knows. 

“Hey, aren't you like her boss or something?” Husk asks. 

And the questions begin.

“Technically no…”

You begin, but Vaggie interrupts you, “The General was in charge of God’s armies. The Exorcists are under Adam’s domain and technically a secret division in Heaven.” 

“Wait,” Husk does a double take. “You mean to tell me that Heaven doesn’t even know about the Exterminations?” 

“Nope,” Vaggie crosses her arms. 

“What kind of fucked up…” 

Maniacal laughter interrupts the conversation as Nifty sprints back into the foyer, a ball of golden fluff in her hands. “Look! Look! Look!” She sings like a small child. “Another for my collection!” 

“What isssss that?” Sir Pentious asks. 

Husks plucks it out of her little hands. The tiny demon protests, jumping for her newfound treasure as the cat demon holds it out of reach. “It looks like wool.” 

“Like from a sssssheep?” The snake demon slivers over to get a better look. 

“Nifty, where did you get that?” Vaggie prods. 

“The little flying sheep gave me…”

“Ahhh!” You collapse as a burst of power shoots through your core, the sudden intrusion of magic burning you from the inside out. The room is plunged into an aura of green as your face hits the carpet. 

“No. No!” Vaggie screams and runs for Charlie’s room. 

Husk slowly lifts you off the floor and guides you back onto the sofa. “Are you okay, kid?” 

“Yeah, I’m…” You hold your head to force the world to stop spinning, the pain fading as fast as it had appeared. Whatever the fuck that was, it felt… familiar. “What was that?” 

Husk looked at you as if you had grown a second head. “It looked like Boss’ static.” 

Alastor’s magic. That was impossible. You released Alastor from his contract. You couldn’t have access to his magic anymore. At least, you shouldn’t. Right? 

Looking down at your hands you watch the remainder of the green aura fade into your skin. Your blood, it felt energized as if a surge of electricity had charged it like a battery. It was eerily similar to the feeling you got when you had Velvette by the throat atop V Tower. 

You had wielded Alastor’s magic in that fight as if it were your own. His static jumped at your command, the power pooling into a well large enough to take down one of Crim’s balls of electricity. Fuck, even your voice became riddled with Alastor’s radio filter. 

You had chalked that up to the verbal contract the two of you had made many moons ago atop the radio tower. Now? Now it didn’t make sense…

Sir Pentious joins you on the couch. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I just…” You had an instinct to run to Alastor since whatever had just happened was because of him. That’s why Vaggie took off for Charlie’s room. Did he… Did he make a deal? Is that what that was? You started to panic. 

Did he own Charlie’s soul? Did Charlie even have a soul? 

Shit. That’s not how this was supposed to go. Charlie was supposed to be an intermediary in this plan - a tool to threaten Heaven and nothing more. She wasn’t supposed to become part of the game. 

Wait. Wait! Don’t panic. Alastor also made a deal with Lilith and Lilith wasn’t stupid. If the protection of Charlie was part of your deal then it was also a part of Alastor’s. Whatever the demon had just done, Charlie wouldn’t be harmed. 

Hopefully…

You sat back on the couch, your mind swimming with a million different questions, but deep down… Deep down, you trusted Alastor. 

Fuck. You trusted him. 

“I just need to lie down a bit…” 

You trusted him, and you were okay with it. 

And suddenly, the ever-solo Golden Girl found herself not so lonely anymore. And you didn’t mind it - the thought of your little solo act suddenly becoming a duo. 

Only if that’s what Alastor also wanted…

____________________________________________

Shit. Fuck. Shit. 

You stood in nothing but a towel before the red dress hanging in your closet. That!? Rosie had made you that!? That devil of a woman. You were going to have a serious talk about her recent lengths regarding your wardrobe. Red, you were okay with, but the lingerie and now this!? 

The dress was a red crepe with a low-hanging neckline and thigh-high leg slit. It was completely backless, which meant you were going to have to wear your hair down (which you wanted to do anyway). But, it also meant hiding your rune in public was going to be difficult. 

Which meant you were going to need a shawl or something to cover it up. You didn’t have a shawl, however, but you know who would. And you got the sense that he was royally pissed with you. 

Forgoing your bath towel for a Hotel robe, you quietly tiptoed to Angel’s door. You didn’t know why you felt the need to be quiet; not like Angel was going to attack you or anything, but instinct just took over. 

There was music playing on the other side of the door—some sort of pop music, probably something by Verosika Mayday. You and Angel hadn’t really talked since Lucifer’s visit when he convinced you to tell Alastor the truth. Sure, he watched over you during that week when you and Alastor weren’t talking, but you had pushed him away the entire time. You had snapped, argued, rolled your eyes, and dismissed any attempt he had at trying to break you from your spiral of depression and guilt. 

You had pushed and pushed, and all he did was try to help you. So when you quietly knocked on his door, it wasn’t so much to ask for a shawl or a jacket or whatever. It was to apologize. 

“Go away!” Angel yelled over the music.

“Angel, can we talk?” You rubbed the back of your neck, the bubbles of anxiety festering within. 

There was a moment of silence before the door slowly opened but a crack. The spider demon stood on the other side, closed off despite his willingness to engage in conversation. God, he looked angry. 

“What?” His words were sharp and pointed. 

Fuck, you hadn’t thought this through, you hadn’t rehearsed anything. So, you simply said, “You seem mad…”

Angel raised an eyebrow, “Ya’ tink? Did ya’ big scary Angel powers tell ya’ that?” 

Shit. 

“Angel, I…”

“Be careful what ya’ say, Hairclip. Every time ya’ open ya’ mouth, ya’ lie.” Angel snaps.

Ah, that’s why he’s mad. 

“I…” 

Fuck, you weren’t good at this feelings thing. You were awkward and couldn’t understand how to comfort others. Friendships - not alliances - were new to you. But hadn’t that been what you were doing from the start? Despite your apprehension, you had grown attached to the Hazbin crew and they you. 

They were your friends and so it was time you started acting like one. 

Your Endgame plan was growing more and more complicated by the day. 

“I’m sorry,” it came out as a whisper. “I’ve been a terrible friend. I’ve disappeared on you not once but twice now. I’ve lied. I’ve manipulated. I’ve done nothing but hurt you and use you and for that I am sorry. I’m a horrible friend and for that I do not deserve your friendship.” You hung your head low. 

Angel sucked his golden tooth, the hallway filling with awkward tension. And right before you thought it was going to explode in a wave of anger, Angel spoke. “Look,” he huffed. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I never pretended to be somethin’ I ain’t.” 

Right. That’s what killed Angel in the end. A gay Italian gangster in his time… The demon’s overdose wasn’t an accident. 

“But, if we’re gonna do this friendship thang, we gotta do it right. No more of this lyin’ and disappearin’ bullshit.” With one set of hands on his hip, the spider demon opens the door completely. 

Wait. What? 

“And you're gettin’ a phone. I want no pushback on that one, sistah. I ain’t havin’ ya’ disappear on me again without at least a heads-up.”

Holy shit. You thought he was going to cut you out of his life like Stolas had, but no, he was making room for you in it. With stipulations, of course, but you could follow his rules, no problem! Whatever he wants so long as you still get to call him a friend. 

A friend! A real friend you didn’t want to kill and who didn’t want to kill you! A friend that wasn’t being ordered by Father to hang out with you or forced to follow your orders! 

You jumped on the demon, bringing him into a bear hug that squeezed the breath from his chest. 

“Thank you,” you breathed into his fluff. 

“Alright, alright, toots. Come inside, we got a lot of catchin’ up to do….”

____________________________________________

“Why is she just standing there?” Cleatus whispered.

“She looks so pretty!” Collin drooled. 

“This is our moment. We should go confront her.” Keenie shoved Collin out of the way. 

“Wait!” Cleatus grabbed Keenie by her floof and hauled her back around the corner. 

“Hey! Stop it! My head is still sore from that rat pulling out my hair!” The sheep protested. 

“What are you going to say?” Cleatus whispered. “Hello, General Morningstar, we’re here to take you back to Heaven, so if you’ll just follow us…” 

“So pretty…” Collin continued to ogle at the Angel standing before the doorway in a red, form-fitting dress. Her hair pooled down her back and shoulders in curled waves of silver. The curved neckline accented her breasts, while the backless dress swooped just above the crest of her hips, highlighting her feminine silhouette. “She’s as beautiful as she is heavenly.” The goat swooned. 

Cleatus rolled his eyes. “We need a plan.”

“How do you know she’s not here on a mission from Heaven?”Collin stepped in. “Why do you assume she’s Fallen?” 

“She’s in Hell. Cavorting with demons!” Keenie shook him. “She’s killed human souls. We all saw the footage, Collin.” 

“But so did we…!” Collin countered. 

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 

The three Cherubs stacked their heads as they peered around the corner. A large shadowed figure opened the bedroom door and chaperoned the Angel inside. The door shut and then locked behind her. 

“Now what…?” Keenie mumbled. 

____________________________________________

You wouldn’t be going out tonight. You’d be staying in. As Rolf guided you into Alastor’s pitch-black room, a series of candles lit as if on cue, illuminating a walkway that led into the Bayou. 

“What…”

Rolf smiled as he ushered you down the aisle way of fire, out into the grass of the pocket dimension. Your heels sunk into the ground, the bottom of your red dress dragging in the dirt. The shadow paused to take your shoes, then bunched the train of your dress for you to carry as you made your way across the plain.   

It was night in the Bayou. The only light was from the candles at your feet, which led you towards the ever-growing forest and the twinkle of the stars above. As you grew ever closer to the trees, the soft sound of jazz quickly replaced the chirping of crickets. 

You smiled as the static found your skin and the aura of Alastor’s scent filled your nose. As you rounded the large trunk of a tree, you came upon a small but familiar clearing. The same clearing he had shadowed you that night he meant to confront you. Now it was surrounded by candlelight and at the center… 

“Perfect timing as always, mon couer,” Alastor spun, a glass of wine in one hand and a bottle in the other. 

The demon stood there, hand outstretched with the goblet, in an all-black button-up and trousers. With his hair pulled back, the demon’s eyes soaked you in, and his smile dropped. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight. 

You dropped the train of your dress, the fabric pooling at your feet. “Have I done something wrong?” 

Alastor fell to his knees then and there, his radio skipping off its track. The goblet of wine and the bottle set gently in the glass. Taking your hands in his, he whispered, “You could never do wrong, mon couer.” 

“Then why do you look at me like that?” Your red lips turned down in a pout. 

“Can a demon not be rendered speechless by the most beautiful sight he has ever seen? Can he not be brought to his knees by such a wondrous creature, the embodiment of power itself? Can he not adore the vessel which adorns it, wholly and completely?” 

His words render you breathless, and your mind blanks with a response. Rosie was wrong when she said Alastor showed he cared through his actions, not his words. Alastor took days to show you he cared through action, and by words, well… the demon spoke poetry. 

So when he called you “absolutely beautiful” moments before he stabbed that Angelic blade into your gut, he was not talking about the power itself. He was talking about you. 

You smiled as you cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his. For what could you say to match that? 

“Come,” the demon said, climbing to his feet and pressing the goblet of wine in your hand. He had a wicked grin on his face as he led you towards the blanket, which held a picnic of food. “A little birdy informed me you enjoy a nice night in with a home-cooked meal and bottle of wine.” 

You smiled as you sit, “A little cat, you mean?” 

Yes, of course Husk rendered word for word your little rant after your date with Vox. Of course Alastor memorized each one.

“I know not what you mean,” Alastor smiles as he lay next to you, his own glass of wine in his claws. The demon’s fingers found the swoop in the fabric of your dress, his claw tracing the red as it lined your back.  

Goosebumps formed on your skin. “And what of today?” You prod, referring to the small army Charlie arranged to fight Adam and his Exorcists. 

Alastor takes a sip of the glass as he lays back on the blanket, supported by his elbow. “A gift.” 

You blinked. “A gift?” 

“The spark to ignite your war,” he smiles. 

“You did that for me?” You asked. 

Alastor places his glass down next to the picnic basket filled with what you assume is Alastor’s cooking. “Not wholly.” 

You swallowed dryly. “You made a contract?” 

The demon’s eyes fall to the basket. “In exchange, the Princess owes me a favor.” 

Good, not her soul. 

“Charlie can not be harmed,” you said carefully. You were touching upon Lilith but didn’t want to mention her by name, which was a sore topic for Alastor. 

“I cannot, and neither can you,” his hand said, finding your arm and tracing it to the strap on your shoulder. 

Also, good. 

“We have three days,” Alastor continued. “I wish to spend them wisely.”

A.k.a. no more talking of plans and schemes. 

“Speaking of which, you saw Rosie today,” you take another sip. “How mad is she?” 

The demon hooked his claw under your strap, playing with it as he spoke, “On the contrary, the woman is insufferably happy.” 

You beamed. Of course, she is. 

“She’s taken it upon herself to design you a dress.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“To meet my mother,” Alastor played with the strap, his mind elsewhere. 

Oh… Oh! 

“But she’s… Unreachable at the moment.” You breathed. When had you become so breathless? 

“In Louisiana, darling. I wish to visit her grave. If you’ll take us?” Alastor’s eyes met yours. Nothing but grief and sadness filled them despite the smile on his face. 

“Of course,” you captured his hand with yours and brought it to your cheek. “In a heartbeat.” You press a kiss to his palm. 

The demon smiled. 

“But,” you smirked, “you must promise me something?”

“Anything,” Alastor answered immediately. 

“For the next three days, you’ll train footwork with me.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow. 

“Your footwork and swordsmanship are atrocious, and…!” 

Alastor grabbed your hand and pulled you onto him. The glass of wine spilled into the grass as the demon wrapped one hand around the back of your neck and brought you into a kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue darted out for yours. 

Alastor broke away, seemingly unphased by the action, a knowing half-cocked grin on his face, “I’m sorry, you were saying?” 

You were… Fuck, your entire mind went blank. 

“I apologize,” he chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you since you arrived. I would have greeted you with a kiss, but this dress was distracting.” 

You smiled back, your cheeks turning as red as the fabric. And then the question hit you again. “Alastor, when you spoke to Rosie today, what did you tell her?” 

The demon’s eyes caught on something behind you. “It’s time.” 

It’s time? 

The demon motioned for you to lay down next to him, your back on the blanket and your eyes on the canopy of the trees. “Alastor, what are we…?” 

“Shh,” the demon shushed. “Wait.” 

The candles winked out at once, plunging the two of you into darkness. It was a rather odd change to the conversation, but you let it happen. It's not like the answer to that question wasn’t killing you inside or anything… 

CLICK! 

Alastor’s radio switched stations. Nat King Col’s “My First and My Last Love” began playing.

🎶I recall all the days of my childhood

And that bashful romance that we knew

In my teens, as I roamed through the wild wood

Then my first and my last love was you 🎶

As if on cue, a wave of green fireflies shot out of the darkness. The small bugs surrounded the two of you, as if you were swimming in your own sea of stars. 

And the answer to your question has finally been answered: “was this romance?” 

🎶When I strayed from our green fields of Clover

Still I knew that my heart would be true

Though I wandered the world like a rover

Still my first and my last love was you🎶

No, this was not romance. It was so much more. 

You turned to Alastor, only to notice that he had not been watching the wonder around you but rather you the entire time. 

🎶And your love haunted me like a song

Till it brought me back where I belong🎶

The green danced in his blown-out pupils as you nudged closer to him. Alastor’s forehead met yours as he whispered, “You asked me what I had told Rosie.” 

🎶Now the days of my youth are behind me

And the years we have left may be few

But my memories will always remind me

That my first and my last love was you🎶 

You nodded. You held your breath in anticipation of his answer. 

“I told her what she had told me long ago,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “That one cannot live without their heart.” The demon cupped your face. “And you are mine, mon couer. I'm your guy, and you're my gal."

You sucked in a breath, “That doesn’t just mean being with me, Alastor. It also entails what comes with.”

🎶And your love haunted me like a song Till it brought me back where I belong🎶

The Endgame. Although Alastor had shown interest, he didn’t necessarily commit. Yes, today was a show of good faith, but there was something in it for him too. You needed a commitment to you and the plan. He could not get one without the other, but the demon already knew that. 

The demon chuckled low. His other hand coming to the slit in your dress, and you gasped as his fingers met the outside of your thigh and climbed higher and higher. At the base of your ass, he grabbed your leg and threw it over his waist, his eyes never leaving yours. 

The green danced all around you as Alastor ran a hand through your silver hair, his fingers playing with your curls. “Well then…”

🎶Now the days of my youth are behind me And the years we have left may be few But my memories will always remind me That my first and my last love was you🎶

His voice was low and filled with lust as he said, “Let’s kill God.”

And before you had a chance to reply, the demon pulled you in and kissed you savagely. 

There was no more need for words after that. The food was long forgotten - for now. You’d be eating it afterward… The demon pulled you fully up onto him, his vision swimming with nothing but you in red and the green of the fireflies surrounding you, illuminating you.

And as Alastor broke the kiss to stare up at the Fallen Angel above him, he had cemented what he had been telling himself all along. He'd destroy, he'd kill, and he'd raise Heaven and Hell if it meant keeping you here by his side. Killing God was a menial task if it meant he got to keep you as the prize, but the Radio Demon had left out a few details regarding his talk with Rosie. You were his heart, that much was true, but he had much bigger plans in store for you.

The demon ran his claw across your bottom lip, admiring the red. Alastor took his time memorizing the shape of your lips, the pooling of your silver hair, and the flash of yellow in your eyes as the green from the fireflies danced around you. He memorized you as if it was his dying breath, for the demon never thought he'd known Heaven till now and had surely died but just hadn’t realized it yet.

He gladly welcomed the day God died. The thought of anyone making a mark on this skin but him... Alastor instinctively growled at the thought. His hand fell from your mouth to your neck. He pushed the hair aside to appreciate the mark. The bruises had faded thanks to your unnatural gift of healing, but the bite at the base of your neck, that one refused to fade.

Good. Let all of Hell know you were his.

Alastor watched as you unfurled your wings behind you, the black masses stretching to their full width. An Angel... He'd laugh if he wasn't so completely enraptured. Who would have ever thought he, Alastor Hartfelt had fallen completely and totally...

He couldn't say the words. He didn't want to scare you, didn't want you to think him another man in your life obsessed to the point of toxicity. You had a history with men, and Alastor didn't want to become just another face that haunted you at night. You've endured enough emotional, mental, and physical torture for one immortal lifetime.

So he didn't say what he was thinking. He'd go slow, give you space and time. He didn't want to push for fear of losing you.

After all, it takes one emotionally damaged soul to know another.

Alastor caressed your wings and watched as your mouth parted ever so slightly, your lips forming that wonderful "o" they make when he catches you off guard with a sudden sensation. By Satan, he loved the little noises and faces he could draw from you.

"Where were we?" Alastor purred. He ran both hands up your thighs, bunching the dress as he went.

Tiny blue sparks jumped from your form and into the grass. The Bayou was a wet and humid place, and it would take more than that to ignite it.

"We have no vèvè to protect us out here, mon couer," despite the demon's warning, his fingers continued to climb until they crested your hips.

Alastor shot you a knowing look, mischief glowing in his eyes.

You weren't wearing any underwear.

You smirked at the demon as you leaned forward, your hands going to his hair as you settled against his chest, your wings folded behind you, "Try not to electrocute me."

"Try not to set my Bayou ablaze," the demon purred, relishing in the feel of your fingers in his antlers.

With your eyes half-lidded, you purred, mocking his tone, "As you command, Mr. Alastor."

Alastor pulled you down to him, but he didn't immediately tear into you as you expected. No. He kissed you slowly and deeply, as if savouring the very taste of you on his tongue.

There was something very, very different about this time.

Alastor’s radio clicks on a smooth jazz, his favorite, actually: Nat King Col's "Unforgettable."

Slowly, Alastor's hands traced your silhouette, caressing your hips, the dip in your waist, the shape of your breasts. His hips did not buck, his teeth did not bite, his lips did not bruise. The demon did not give you any of the usual signs that he was hungry, insatiable as he had been for the past few days.

And then it hit you. Alastor was letting you take the lead.

You smiled against his mouth, and took the opportunity you didn't have before to roam his skin. You followed the chiseled edge of his jaw, to the spot just below his earlobe, before nipping it and eliciting an extremely satisfying gasp from Alastor.

You followed down his neck, planting featherlight kisses until you reached his chest. Alastor liked having only the top two buttons undone when he was being more casual, so when your mouth found the third, your fingers undid the buttons as your lips continued south.

When you hit his belly button, you pulled back to admire the sculpted chest before you. With his shirt completely undone, you traced his pecs with your fingers, following the lines of his muscles down his abdomen to the lean six-pack of his torso.

Alastor's face was red with lust, his eyes glassy, his heart beating at a million miles an hour beneath your hand. To think, you had the Radio Demon completely undone, and you hadn't even taken off your clothes.

And you weren't going to let this go to waste.

You pulled off his belt and then undid the button of his pants. Without hesitation, you grabbed Alastor's shaft and pulled his cock free. The demon grits his teeth as his claws dig into the meat of your hips. You stroke, eliciting a growl deep from within his chest.

Oh, no, you were going to savor this moment.

His head swells as you drag your thumb over his slit.

"Fuck," Alastor moans as a few green sparks of static sink into the grass.

You debated using your mouth, but to be honest, you didn't know what to do with it, but your hips? You knew how to use those.

Alastor’s head rolled back at the sight of you tugging your dress above your waist. With one hand firmly wrapped around his cock, you lined your clit up with his shaft and rolled your hips, timing it with the stroke of your hand.

Alastor made a noise halfway between a whimper and a moan that made you roll your hips again.

If you knew all it took to take down the infamous Radio Demon was the roll of your hips, you’d have had this man begging on his knees weeks ago. Oh, there is definitely more than one way accrue power and you had just found it.

“Beg,” you command, referring to all those times Alastor made you crave him, desperate for him to be inside you, hopeless for release.

The demon’s head shot up as if he didn’t hear you correctly, but you silenced any protest he would have made with another stroke and another grind of your clit into his shaft.

“Fuck,” he groaned again.

“Come on now, Mr. Alastor, where are your manners?” You pouted, drawing his attention to your lips. You licked them, if only to incite more annoyance with your demand.

Alastor growled, showing off his canines like an alpha male ready to pounce, but the demon wasn’t giving in just yet.

So you decided to up the anty.

Scooting back, you leaned down and ran your tongue across the head, lapping up the pre-cum leaking from the top. Alastor gasped, his hands instinctively knotting in your hair.

“Ah, uh, uh,” you tutted, pulling away. You leaned over his belly, stroking his cock as you intentionally brought it closer to your cleavage. Alastor’s eyes practically bugged out of his head at the sight.

You weren’t wearing a bra either and from this angle, Alastor had full view of your cleavage and breasts as you stroked again.

“What will it be, Mr. Alastor?” You kissed his lower belly, following a trail up to his neck before seating yourself atop his waist once more.

You stroked as you sat there, waiting for the demon to find enough sense - and enough air, was he even breathing? - to respond to your demand.

But oh, it was practically killing him to do so. Alastor had never begged for anything in his life.

“Please,” he moaned as you stroked, the demon completely disheveled beneath your. “Please, darling.”

Aww, how cute.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his nose, “Only because you asked nicely.”

You lined him up and gasped as you sank down to the hilt.

“Fuck, Alastor!”

The demon shot up and captured your moans with his mouth, his one hand helping to guide your hips as you slowly lifted up and came back down. With his other he palmed your breast and pinched your nipple through the red fabric causing you to yelp. Alastor continued to let you take the lead, his actions but mere assistance as you bounced up and down on his cock.

Using his antlers as leverage, you opted for hard rather than fast - knowing that’s how Alastor liked it. And with every bounce of your hips, the demon grew thicker and thicker inside you.

Alastor’s groans turned into full on moans, the most vocal you had ever heard the demon. And as your walls twitched, your climax building, you felt Alastor growing closer and closer to his own.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to last much longer, darling,” Alastor breathed.

“Good,” you smiled against his mouth. “I want you to cum.”

“Fuck,” the demon moaned.

“Cum in me Alastor,” you demanded, your hips moving faster and faster.

Alastor grabbed your hips then, his claws sinking into your flesh as he slams you down onto him harm. Sheathed to the hilt, his head bruising your cervix as he spilled inside of you with a low guttural grunt.

It was enough to send you into your own orgasm, your own personal high as the demon spilled inside of you.

You breathed heavily as your body rode the tingling aftershocks. Collapsing into Alastor, your head rested on his shoulder as the two of you sat there surrounded in a sea of green stars, your wings limp behind you.

It wouldn’t become apparent to you then, but about ten feet in every direction, with the two of you at the center, was a circle of scorched earth. You hadn’t burned down the Bayou but you had lit it on fire at some point.

And yet, the two of you did no harm to each other.

“Mon couer,” Alastor cooed as he ran a hand through your hair. “My heart,” he whispered. “Mine.”

The two of you sat there for a long moment, just drinking each other in, before continuing on with a long night of drinking, eating, laughing, and genuinely just being happy for the first time in your lives. You talked of jazz and radio, of Heaven and your life on the run with Eve. You talked of everything and nothing. You talked well past the point of exhaustion, never wanting the night to end.

And you savored every moment of it, for you had gotten good at recognizing the good times when you were in them, but knew they always had to come to an end eventually…

Awww, so cute. What could go wrong? *cough* foreshadowing *cough*

Possible alternate endings???? I'm indecisive AF

-> Chapter Seventeen

Tagged Hoteliers (Let me know if you wish to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @mommymilkers0526 @goyablogsstuff

@eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick

@cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @saw1987

@mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah

@diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta

@reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages

@chibistar45

[koogl001]

Hello! Can I request alastor with an eldritch s/o that's more powerful than him. I love the creepy flare that you give your alastor fics but since he's naturally the more dominant type I sorta wanna see him react to someone who could probably rival lucifer.

One-Shots and Headcanons Masterlist

When Alastor first arrived in Hell, he made it his point to start gathering territory as soon as possible, leaving a blood bath behind him

He was strong, stronger than any mortal soul you have ever seen, and that intrigued you immensely

Being one of the Overlords, you constantly seeked new challengers whom would be worthy of fighting and most of the times, you ended up being disappointed

To you, fighting was something you lived for

When Alastor finally arrived at the borders of your territory in search of his next victim, you were ecstatic to finally see just how powerful he truly was

Your battle was the most enjoyable one you had for centuries, but it wasn’t enough

The deer demon was new to Hell and therefore, new to his powers so he hasn’t quite reached his full potential yet, and you just couldn’t kill him before he did

No, you had to face him at his strongest, a battle to death

Taking Alastor down, you expressed immense interest in teaching him about his powers and helping him become stronger for the single purpose of crushing that power of his once he was ready in your eyes

Despite his pride not allowing him to accept your assistance, his interest in you kept him in your presence as you were the first being to ever bring him to his knees

He knew you held a high status down here and was ready to strip you of that status and take it as his own, crushing you under his shoe as he felt the overwhelming feeling of dominancy

That was his new goal, and he would see to it that it would be fulfilled, no matter how low he would have to stoop

He tried setting traps, using cheap tricks, surprise attacks, angel weapons, blackmailing and anything else he could think of, but you were always one step ahead of him

For once in his life, he wasn’t the one on the top and strangely, he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would

Your fights were enjoyable, you were quick on your feet and smart with your strategies

To him, you had it all

Smarts, power, status, and beauty

He decided it would be only fitting for you to become his once he overpowered you, but with each passing day he realised time and time again that there was no taking you down

So, he decided that if he couldn’t have the pleasure of defeating you physically, he would do so mentally

He was aware of the effect he had on women and some men, and knew just how to spin that to his advantage

He’d start subtly by complimenting your fighting style while you two sparred, engaging more in your conversations, being in your presence more often and of course, secretly watching your every move

You saw the change in him but didn’t pay it much attention as it was not indicating the possibility of a threat, until he started gathering information from you about what you liked and disliked

Now that was out of character for him, and you became slightly suspicious so whatever you told him, you always chose your words and the information you were giving up carefully

Hunting was something you shared an interest in, there was just something so appealing about stalking your unsuspecting pray and slaughtering it, feeling the power you had over it

The power to choose whether it shall live or die

Passionately discussing the topic for days, you soon grew emotionally closer, and for some strange reason, you no longer wished to kill him

Alastor’s plan was slowly coming into fruition, but what he hadn’t accounted for was the fact he was staring to have romantic feelings for you

You were the first woman that make him feel this way, and he wasn’t sure how to handle this

His instinct was to just take you and claim you as his, but with your power that would be impossible

He took to being with you 24/7

His overprotectiveness was starting to show as all it would take for Alastor to attack was for a man to simply look your way

In your eyes however, he was the one who needed protection

He was weaker than you and quite reckless at times, but it was a nice gesture from him

It reassured you that he truly cared about you not only because of your status and it made you want to return the gesture

You approached him and asked to form a contract with him, which took him by surprise of course

You had everything, so what could you possibly want?

You told him you wanted him, and you knew he wanted you

Green light emitted from Alastor as he extended his hand towards you

“I shall be yours till the end of time”

[bingusbongu]

you write for so many characters that I absolutely adore oml.

Could you write some kind of Alastor x new-to-hell reader? (I feel like this would be really interesting :3)

Also since I'm likely gonna be putting in a lot of reqs I'm claiming an Emoji (🖋 <- this one) so you know which anon this is teehee

-🖋

♡A/N: RAAAAAAA HELLO I KNOW YOU GFYFGG im glad you found my blog!!! I also made sure to make this on this specific day for you,,, ♡

Masterlist

Rules

Alastor x New Sinner Reader!

Tw: mentions of death and murder, and of stalking

• okay, the fact you manage to catch the eye of NONE OTHER than the famous and feared Radio Demon is beyond believable

• your new, you must have done something to become his intrest. I dont think he will just pluck you out of the streets as soon as you spawned because he wanted to

• maybe you found yourself in the middle of a turf war or spawned while he and some other demon were in a battle. Maybe you killed another demon on pure accident. And maybe, due to him working with Charlie, maybe he decided not to kill you instantly and offered you the hotel. Since you are new, perhapse you wanted redemption? Hell knows that charlie would be ecstatic to have a new member!

• so, you go with Alastor to the hotel! Meeting an overjoyed Charlie and the rest of the crew!

• though, Alastor kept his eyes on you. Your new, he couldnt have a new member of the hotel accidently step into a war of some sorts and have yourself killed the moment he looks away.

• so, you being as clueless as you are, Alastor reluctantly decided he was going to teach you what to do and not to do in hell! Charlie thought it was a wonderful idea, finding it unbelievable that Alastor was the one to come up with the idea AND go along with it

• so, Alastor would take you out of the hotel and teach you certain things, like how to categorize lower level demons and higher ranking demons, how to protect yourself while walking the street from others who want to harm you

• "no no, you go for the heart, thats the liver"

• after you manage to learn alot from Alastor! Suprisingly, he is quiet a good teacher! But, instead of leaving you to yourself, he would be found occasionally hanging around you

• others would take notice how they always were able to find Alastor wherever you are, and when confronted about it, he would completely shoot down their question and change the subject

• Alastor thought you needed more protection. Though he did teach yoi how to take care of yourself, he still found a need to watch over you, to protect you. A worm of worry that wiggled in his chest when he cant spot you in the hotel.

• Alastor dosnt bring you along to his meetings, to keep his reputation and to protect you from certain eyes. If you are with the Radio Demon, then you have a bigger target on your head

• though, he does sometimes take you to his visits with Rosie!

• she adores you, finding you the cutest little thing. She sure was suprise to find a new sinner with Alastor, and one Alastor was so protective over, but she left it be, finding you precious and telling you stores from her time while sharing tea.

• though, a few of the staff of the hotel were,,, concerned for you. Husk especially. Having the Radio Demon on your back was certainly something new and worrying to him. Maybe he got you under contract, too. When he asked you about it, you shrugged it off and smiled like you hadnt even noticed! It baffled him, and how your mood didnt seem to dim when Alastor came around to check up on you.

• Vox, well, lets just say he may or may not have been the first overlord to actually notice you and your presence with Alastor. He has camaras everywhere, especially hidden outside of the hotel, he dosnt miss anything. So when he realized that the Radio demon was being friendly with a someone new he was not a happy camper

• he ended up confronting Alastor about it during their next meeting. And the way he quickly shut up apon noticing Alastors mood shift when you were mentioned had him traumatized. Velvet had to help him fix his screen after that

• Alastor is quite protective over you, even if you dont realize it, he has one of his little weird minions keeping an eye on you at all times when he isnt there, just to make sure you dont do something stupid.

-EXTRA-

• if you, instead of being a weak newcomer, started making a name for yourself withoit wasting any time, maybe killing off demons left and right or taking down a few overlords, you definitely have his attention

• you remind him of his old new sinner self, so he happily makes his presence known to you, and openly offers to guide you to make a name for yourself like he did

• he would show you how to take down even the most powerful overlords, collect souls to feed your power, and even how to keep your clothes from getting messy after killing so many!

• you are much like his apprentice. Following him wherever he goes and listening to him teach you about something.

• if you become powerful like him, you two become a quick and good duo! Both pf you being feared!

• though, he still makes sure you dont hurt yourself. No matter how powerful you have become, he makes sure you dont slip up and hurt yourself, or let someone hurt you. <3

[kelppsstuff]

Let’s make a deal ch.2? 🧍‍♀️cause ch.1 got me in one hell (😏) of a chokehold

Let’s make a deal.

Part One | Part Three

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, gore, cannibalism

Taglist: @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @leathesimp @michelleszn @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @sirenetheblogger

Human Alastor x demon F!Reader

—

Life went on normally for Alastor, however every time he went around Belle he felt a tug around his neck. As if a reminder on who owns him.

He hated the feeling. Even if he didn’t see you again, he still felt the leash on him. The only time he felt he could get away from his invisible collar was when he brought people the death they deserved, as if you were rewarding him.

And you were. The more souls he bring down to hell, the more souls you gained. Even if he didn’t know it, he was helping you.

You’d often find yourself watching Alastor. It was very rare you didn’t, and today was one of those rare times. You had the pleasure of helping the darling Rosie with her shop.

You rang the cannibal up and that’s when you felt it. A pull on Alastor’s life. You were quick to jump up to the mortal plane. A gift only overlords and royalty could do.

When you walked through the portal and appeared behind two men. You saw Alastor on the ground hand on his side. You saw the blood slipping through his hands and onto the floor.

Your eyes glowed (E/C) and you pushed your hand through the back of one of the men. Once you felt the organ, you ripped out his heart.

The man fell to the ground, while you took a bite of the heart. “Two against one? I excepted better form.” You have a grin, one that could rival the devil.

You let the heart drop to the body. You licked the blood off your fingers while the other man started to shake, crying.

Before he could say a word his head was blown off. The blood splattering all around you and Alastor.

“I didn’t realize you were so desperate to see me again that you would kill yourself to get to hell.” You gazed sharpens to Alastor on the floor.

(F/C) smoke surrounds the two of you, making you reappear in Alastor’s house.

“What-what are you doing here?” You started to unbutton his shirt. He couldn’t even try to resist — no matter how much he wanted too — he was too tired.

“Saving your Arse.”

“Such language.”

You felt your eye twitch. Somehow this man brought out annoyance in you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Wanna explain what the hell that was?” It was a question and a demand of an answer. “I may have underestimated my victims.” That was an understatement.

You felt your self sigh. You started to stitch up the small cut on his side. It was small, but could have been deadly. Luckily no vital organs, he would live.

“Get some rest.” You spoke up when you were done fixing him up. Alastor went to inject but found he couldn’t. The hell? Could you really demand anything from him?

In that moment he knew how powerful a soul could be. In that moment he wanted freedom.

—

Alastor went to his kitchen — looking for food — the next morning. Only to be met with the view of you on his recliner. Head titled back with snores coming from your mouth. Luckily they were quiet snores. Still funny though.

The knife on the dining table glinted in the morning sun.

He grabbed the object and made his way behind you. He pushed the sharp knife to your neck.

The snores stopped. Your eyes open quickly. Now you could easily remove yourself from the situation. And you would, if you felt threatened.

“Oh you gonna kill me now? Go ahead try.”

Your voice was stern but yet almost begging. Alastor’s eye shades over with the bloodlust that was so familiar. One swipe, and you be dead. It would be over.

The pressure tightened and he slit your throat.

Red dark crimson blood flooded down your neck. Down onto your white shirt. You could feel yourself chocking.

The the slit started to close with a faint (F/C) glow. You stood from the recliner, popping your neck. “That was anti-climactic don’t ya think? Hey you gave it a good try though.”

You spoke, as if the whole situation was an after thought. It was almost laughable. Alastor had the same shocked look you had oh so long ago.

You ignored his questioning face. “Hey? Do you know how to drive a car?” You hadn’t had the chance to learn unfortunately. You never spent much time out of your home.

“How are you alive?” His voice was in a disbelieving whisper.

“How am I alive?” You whispered in disbelief. You shook your head as you looked at the cut that was now healed through the mirror.

You looked to the angel. “Belle why am I alive?!” You sobbed. She didn’t answer. Instead she left. Left you all alone.

You sunk to the floor, begging to be saved from this hell. Begging to die. Begging for him to come back. Come back to you.

“Y/N?” Alastor’s hand waved in your face. You shook of the memory. Jaw clenching from the feeling forming in your chest.

“Quite bold, even after I saved you. I’m impressed, chills. How about we make another deal?”

The taller man glared down to you. “You really think I’m that stupid?”

You brow raised as if saying yes. “If you can kill me, I’ll give you back your soul.” Once again, Alastor’s interest was back.

“What’s the catch?” He’s learning.

“You’ve gotta get creative with it.”

Alastor smiled. This would work splendidly in his favor. “Deal.” He signed the contract just like before.

Once it had disappeared he hurried to jab the knife in your chest. You looked to the knife sticking in your chest. ‘Really?’ You thought to yourself.

“Unfortunately it’s gonna take a lot more than that to kill me.”

Alastor glared at you with a new passion. With hatred. With desperation. “Even a demon can be killed. So help me Y/N I shall find away to erase you from this universe.”

You took a step closer to him and smiled. “Good luck.” (F/C) circled around you only leaving the knife to drop to the floor in your place.

Alastor felt his side stinging. He opened his shirt and saw it was red. Most likely had dirt or something in it.

He opened his fridge — looking for food — and saw an ointment with a note. “Reapply every hour.”

—

Ik ik super short! I plan to have Part 3 out like soon soon. I have some exciting events happening right now! So that’s mostly the reason I’ve been working slow!

[stoneagedevil]

“Heads or Tails?” | Alastor x AntonChigurh!Reader

TW/CW: Murder/murder for hire. Mentions of sex/drug crimes and crimes involving children. Reader’s personality and morals are modeled after Anton Chigurh of “No Country for Old Men.”

—♥️—

It was the late evening, the time when Charlie insisted all of the residents of the hotel gathered in the lounge and share stories of their life on the surface. After a filling supper, of course.

So there you all sat. Demons of different ages, sizes, and shapes teetering on the edges of food comas, waiting to see who Charlie’s next victim of honesty will be.

“Maybe it’ll make you think on the good you’ve done on Earth, or even make you reflect on the bad and how you can change.” The Princess justified.

Change. It was something you didn’t like. Even in your life you’d been one to uphold some sort of routine.

You’re assigned a target.

You track.

You kill.

You disappear.

You get paid.

You sleep.

You get on the road.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

However, you could adapt if the circumstances called for it, and you were adept in doing so. It was what led you to be a great and feared overlord in Hell. In life you never made deals. Your targets could never bargain for their lives, as nothing was equal to them. In a theoretical sense, you wanted their souls. Fate brought you to them, and you wouldn’t reverse fate’s outcome. But here in Hell, soul contracts was the best and most efficient way to the top. So, as they say, you improvised, adapted, and overcame. Now a reaper of souls in the most literal way possible.

“Y/N, why don’t you go? Everyone’s shared what brought them to Hell.” Charlie’s voice was soft, and almost sympathetic. The sympathy made you uncomfortable, and though you never outwardly expressed it, you took a quarter out and started thumbing the ridges on the side of it.

“Same reason as a lot of demons are here for. I’ve killed many people.” You stated it as pure fact. You weren’t remorseful. You weren’t giddy at the memories of your victim’s slaughter. You were so entirely neutral it sent a chill down the spine of every demon in the room.

Alastor sat up in intrigue, subtly shaking the shiver out of his spine as well. Truthfully, you’d always been an enticing enigma to him. He had a feeling you’d been a killer in your lifetime, the way your observant eyes would flick from one side of the room to the other. The way you never flinched away at violence. The way you did everything. Always knowing the layout of a building the first time around. You didn’t seem like the type to commit crimes revolving around sex, or drugs, or children, otherwise we would’ve led you out of the hotel and killed you.

It was like you were two sides of the same coin, and yet you couldn’t be more different from each other. Alastor was a showman at heart, while you were so ghost-like, performing as though you were the very shadows that moved at his fingertips. His face was contorted into a permanent smile, while you seldom gave away your thoughts through expressions, he had to admit that you were harder to read than him.

Charlie cleared her throat and clasped her hands together in her lap. You knew she was uncomfortable by the soothing gestures she made to calm herself. “How many would you say? And for what purpose?” Everyone’s eyes were on you once more.

“Too many to count. I was a professional hitman in the 70s to 80s.” Now this thoroughly captivated Alastor, he’d never expect you of all people to be one to be hired. He always thought you were one of a strange principal (much like him), but money driving you to kill? It just didn’t make sense to him.

“For money?” Charlie parroted what Alastor’s brain was trying to wrap itself around. She couldn’t imagine taking a life in exchange for money. How could one put a price on a life?

“Yes, and no. I was always the right tool for the job. You only pick the one right tool for such things.” Your sentence sent a wave of confusion through the room.

“Right tool?” Charlie tilted her head like a puppy. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this. Even Alastor had a set of morals.

“Once I was hired to kill a target and retrieve a satchel containing $2.4 million-“

“$2.4 MILLION?! Christ toots, I woulda just shot the guy and took the money myself!” Angel interrupted.

“Then you aren’t the right tool.” You replied, coldly. “The man who hired me ended up hiring a group of men to kill my target. I went to his building and I killed him. He changed the rules.”

“But you took the money he had, right?” Angel asked, confused.

“No. The job wasn’t completed by me.” You stated simply, almost sighing at the simplicity of Angel’s mind, as if your reply was simple at all. Money, sex, drugs. It was all these demons wanted.

You were growing tired of it.

“My dear, if I may interrupt, what was your reason for killing? If it wasn’t money, nor for personal gain, then what was it? Morals? In my day I killed the most disgusting dogs that had the nerve to call themselves men.”

Charlie loved that everyone was joining the conversation, no matter how macabre the topic was. It created a sense of family that she’d been longing for the taste of ever since her parents had split up and neglected to visit her.

You didn’t mind Alastor. He wanted something other than what everyone else did. He made fine company, and always seemed to be watching you, as if to figure you out. He’d be doing it for the foreseeable future.

“I suppose it was money that led me to kill, but not in the sense you mean.” You flicked your quarter in the air, it coming back down into your awaiting hand where you quickly slapped it onto your other arm, the hand that caught it covering it. Your eyes flicked to Alastor’s, and it was then that Alastor saw how truly psychotic you were.

It was exhilarating.

“Heads or tails?” You queried.

Husk had witnessed a great many coin flips in his life and afterlife, but none made him chew on the inside of his cheek like this. He knew the internal wound would last for months to come, as his sandpaper tongue kept tonguing it anxiously. The tension that suddenly filled the room was palpable, and Alastor didn’t know if his heart was racing from fear, excitement, or something else he wasn’t entirely familiar with.

“My darling, I haven’t put anything up.” He chuckled, but it was mostly to try and calm his racing heart. How hungry your eyes looked awakened that prey animal within him, and he hated how much he loved it.

“You have. You just didn’t know it. You’ve died, gone to Hell, and now here we are. Fate led me here, with this quarter, and now it’s either heads or tails.” You said lowly. My, how talkative you became when it came to fate. This was your motive.

You were death incarnate. A tool of fate. The right tool.

He took a shaky intake of breath, deciding it was the feeling he wasn’t familiar with from his options listed earlier in his mind, his cheeks warming ever so slightly. “Tails.”

You lifted your hand, everyone’s eyes anxiously darting down to the outcome of the toss, and the coin read in Alastor’s favor. “Well done, Alastor. Fate favors you.”

His chest puffed out at the praise, almost as if to make room for the swelling of his heart. It was the first time you’d said his name, and given that you viewed yourself as a tool for fate, when reading between the lines, you’d just stated that you favored him. It was a feeling he could get used to. Perhaps he should listen to his body more often, as the only reason he picked tails was because of the excitable wagging of his.

It was this day that Alastor decided to begin pursuing your heart.

—♥️—

Combined two interests into one. It was bound to happen at some point.