#alastor RP

[voxslays]

FULL MOON

Featuring >>> Alastor x Reader; In which, Alastor is hiding his seasonal rut cycle from everyone in the hotel, including you. Unfortunately, it isn’t very long until you find out what he’s been hiding…

WARNINGS: Smut, AFAB Reader, Dub-Con??, Seasonal rut

It was late October, the time when sinners went into their seasonal ruts. For many years, Alastor had been able to pretend he was completely immune to the effects of the fall heat he felt. Being able to hide out until late November when his rut disappeared. Until this year, when you had arrived. You were a fellow deer demon, a doe to be exact. You were innocent, naive, and most of all, kind.

You knew of Alastor’s title, one he had earned from taking down and broadcasting the screams of countless overlords and other high-ranking sinners, becoming an overlord in record time. Yet, you never feared him. Alastor was curious about you, trying to truly get to know you. Not for your soul, but for you as a person. You intrigued him, entertained him. That was one of the reasons why his rut was extremely unbearable this year. He had no choice but to lock himself away from you and the other residents of the hotel—only coming out for meals—until his rut was over.

Alastor paced in his private quarters, his movements agitated and uncharacteristically erratic. The scent of your presence lingered in the halls, a sweet torment that set his nerves ablaze. He gripped the balcony railing, his claws digging into the marble as he fought to maintain control. ​​Not only did he feel the pain of his unbearable rut, but the major migraines from his shedding antlers. His antlers felt ready to drop at any moment, but not soon enough to ease his suffering.         

Alastor let out a deep groan of pain, his body wracked with tremors. He was losing control. He let out a roar of frustration, shattering several nearby floral vases. Just as Alastor is about to step into his bayou, he hears a knock on his door. Followed by a muffled voice calling his name. He quickly walks out of the miniature pocket-dimension, growing frustrated with whoever dares to interrupt his alone-time.

Alastor stormed to the door, his eyes flashing dangerously. He flung the door open, prepared to berate whoever had dared to disturb him. His words caught in his throat as he saw you standing there, your expression concerned. “Are you okay!?” You ask worriedly, pressing your hand to his burning forehead. “Do you have a fever?” Alastor's initial anger melted away, replaced by a hint of relief at your presence. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he savored the warmth of your hand. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice rough and hoarse from his recent roar. "Just a headache.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The scent of your concern was intoxicating, making his heart race. "I appreciate your worry, but I can handle it. It's just...a difficult time of year for me." He carefully states.

“Do you need anything? I’d be happy to help.” You give him a thoughtful smile. Alastor's resolve wavered at your kind offer. He wanted to accept, to lean on you, but he knew the risk. "You're too kind," he said softly, his hand coming up to cover yours on his forehead. "But I wouldn't want to burden you with my..." He trails off, his smile only slightly faltering. He paused, torn between his desire for you and his need to protect you from his rut. "...problems." He finished lamely, dropping his hand and stepping back. "I'll be fine. Just need some rest." He says, as sweat pours down his forehead, the room seemingly getting hotter and hotter. “Just come to me if you need anything. I hope you feel better soon!” You say, waving as you walk down the hall. Alastor watches you go, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to call you back, to lose himself in your comforting presence. But he knew he couldn't, not like this.

The last time Alastor had come out of his room was Sunday. It was now a Wednesday. You and the other hotel residents—mainly Charlie and Husk (for two very different reasons)—were becoming concerned. Charlie tried to convince Vaggie and you that Alastor was fine, and he probably just needed a little space—while Husk was positive Alastor was planning something. It didn’t really matter to you. You just wanted to know Alastor was okay. When Thursday rolled around, you decided enough was enough. You marched up to his room and gently knocked on the door, not sure if you would even get an answer. The knock echoed through the silent room. Alastor was sprawled on his bed, drenched in sweat and shivering. He groaned and dragged himself up, staggering to the door. He flung it open, expecting to see Charlie or Husk.

Alastor’s eyes widen when he sees you standing in the dimly lit hallway. “Where have you been!?” You ask, with a tone of concern. ​​“Wait a moment.” You say, thinking to yourself. Alastor watched you warily, his body trembling as another wave of need crashed over him. “You’re in your rut aren’t you?” You ask. You had remembered hearing somewhere that some demons could have seasonal ruts depending on their species and sins in life. From what Alastor had previously told you, it would only make sense he had entered his seasonal cycle.

Alastor's face contorted in a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and pain. "Yes," he hissed, clenching his fists at his sides. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. I can't control myself right now." He slightly trembles. “Wait-! Let me help you.” Alastor's eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head vehemently. "No. Absolutely not. You can't." He trailed off, his breathing growing heavier as another surge of desire washed over him. "Please.” Your eyes meet, and you look into his crimson red pupils, now even redder with pain. “I don’t want you to suffer. Please, just let me help you.” You practically beg. Alastor's resolve wavers as he meets your gaze. The concern and care in your eyes nearly undo him. He takes a shuddering breath. "You don't know what you're offering," he warns, his voice rough with strain. "Once I start, I won't be able to stop."

“I don't care.” Something in Alastor snaps at your words. With a growl, he reaches out and gently pulls you into the room, slamming the door shut. He pins you against it, his body flush against yours. "Last chance to run," ​​You don’t dare move, too lost in his gaze. Alastor's eyes burn with an intense hunger as he looks at you. Without another word, he claims your mouth in a brutal, possessive kiss. His hands roam over your body, seeking relief from the torment. "Fuck," Alastor curses against your lips, his voice shaking with need. You gently cup his antlers, rubbing tender circles around them, relieving pain.

A low groan escapes him as you touch his antlers. He grinds himself against you, seeking friction. "More." Alastor pants out. His fingers nimbly unzipping the back of your dress, pushing it off your shoulders, and slowly sliding it off, watching it pool at your feet. His gaze drinks in the sight of you bare before him. His touch becomes gentler, reverent, as he explores every curve and line of your body. He leans down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, his hands sliding up your thighs and wrapping around to squeeze your backside. "So beautiful," His mouth travels lower, tracing the swell of your breast, his tongue flicking out to taste you. His body shudders as another wave of heat washes over him. He lifts you up in his arms, carrying you to his bed. He laid down, positioning you astride his hips. 

He guides your hips, helping you take him inside. A low moan rumbles in his chest at the exquisite feeling of you enveloping him. His hands grip your thighs as he starts to move, setting a deep, powerful rhythm. "That's it," He praises breathlessly ​​as you let out little whimpers and whines. The sound of your whimpers spurs him on, his pace quickening. He reaches between you, his calloused fingers finding the bundle of nerves at your core and stroking it rhythmically. You cry out, your nails digging into his back. Alastor's expression contorts with pleasure and pain. He lets out a guttural growl, his hips jerking up sharply. He wraps his arms around you, flipping you onto your stomach without breaking your union. 

His movements become feverish, his breath coming in short pants. You scream in pleasure, your face being gently pressed down into the pillow. His thrusts become brutal, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke. The force of his movements causes the headboard to bang against the wall. He reaches under you, his fingers finding your mouth, shoving them inside. He leans down, his chest pressed against your back as he pistons into you. His hips stutter as he reaches his peak, a deep groan torn from his throat as he spilled deep inside you. He bites down into your shoulder, his teeth breaking your skin.

You whimper, gripping the sheets beneath you with all your strength. As he comes down from his high, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, pressing them against your lips to silence any cries. He lays his head against your back, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Shh, my love," He whispers, his voice dripping with satisfaction. You gently roll over, gently gripping his shoulders as you let out quick, shallow breaths. Alastor's gaze drops to where your bodies are still joined. He lets out a pleased rumble as he feels you tighten around him once more. He grins at you, his sharp, yellow teeth glistening with your blood.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead. He chuckles, nipping gently at your chin. "Mmm, you look delicious like that, my dear. All sweaty and disheveled.” You let out a quick breathy pant. “I am exhausted.” Your body is still slightly trembling. He grins wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good. That means I did my job right.” He flexes his hips, his body stirring once more. “And only seventy hours to go.” Only seventy…What!?

[hellishradio]

*Puts this in your arms and runs off*

"..."

[thebabyradiodemon]

*sigh* Chawie hawd two mawke mwe dwo dis siwwy thwing...

[radio-isnot-dead]

We know you can be a softie. Don’t make us pull out the receipts.

Oh, you must be mistaken, my dear! I am anything but a softie

[alteregozowie]

🎶 "Don't give up, you still have us." 🎶

This is based on a thread @neatandniffty and I worked on, which you can read right here! ⤵️

(I'm emotional 😭)

[pimp-overlord]

Hii! You’re Valentino, right?

yes, amorcito, the one and only.~ you dont want a role, do you?

he smirks, leaning down to you to inspect your figure.

[radio-host]

So, why is it that you don't like Lucifer? Is there a specific reason, or do you just not like him.

my dear, i simply cannot resist the temptation to mock our short king! HaHaHa!

@hazbindying

[alastorthisisthetea]

Cool staff, I've been thinking of changing my scythe to a staff, but that would make killing hard.

You definitely get better agility with a scythe.

[ask-alastor-theradiodemon]

how do you feel being babygirl

I beg your pardon.

[king--of--ducks]

What happened to McAlastor

(and McVox, ig)

[[Both the McAlastor and McVox accounts no longer exist. I’ll leave it up to you to make some Matpat level theories about why. But I will say those accounts will not be coming back, the reasoning is not my place to share.

What IS my place to share—their mod and I were talking, and I was left with two options for McAl disappearing.

•Lucifer left him

•McAlastor died

Now, I haven’t had angst on this blog in a damn minute, and I couldn’t imagine Lucifer leaving McAl. So, naturally, me and the old “blitz-horsie-enthusiast” mod from the discord server got to work plotting and angsty death.

Below you will find a description of what happened, and below the cut/TWs you will find all the @ s and a very gorey plotline]]

[[The story goes as such. McAlastor and McVox used to date, obviously not anymore. So McVox decided the best course of action would to pull a “If I can’t have him, nobody can”, and hired Striker (played by the old Blitzø mod) to kill McAlastor while he was taking a nap in the freezer. Eventually Lucifer will find out who hired Striker, and, well….both “Mc” accounts are dead for a reason.

And despite McAl only being his fiancé and not husband, that doesn’t change him seeing Alyx and MJ as his kids.]]

TW:BLOOD, DEATH, GORE, I THINK THAT’S ALL?!

🍎Al! Al! Guess what?!🍎

Lucifer called out as he entered the McDonalds. It was one of those glorious days where Vox wasn’t working, and he could openly be lovey with his fiancé without judgment or doubt.

He hasn’t gotten a response, so he called out again to no answer. This wasn’t concerning to him, Alastor liked to sleep in the freezer a lot, he could for sure find him in there. So he quickly skipped on over, pulling open the door.

🍎Al! Deer! Gue—🍎

Lucifer froze like a deer in the headlights as he saw the state his deer lover was in. Holy bullet through the brain, another in his chest for good measure, blood dripping on the floor with a sickening dripping sound.

🍎A……..Al’!🍎

Lucifer charged forward to desperately check for and sign of life (or at least not double deadness), pulling his love into his arms. That same forever grin still plastered on his face, a calm one signifying a death in his sleep, one of Lucifer’s many duck prints blankets now coated in blood had been wrapped around him.

He was gone, gone and Lucifer couldn’t prevent it….he hadn’t been there.

He held Alastor’s cold lifeless corpse close for what could have been minutes, hours, maybe even days for all he knew. His sobs and Alastor’s blood had souled both of their outfits, and the blanket……this was it…it was the end of McAlastor.

@headlessdeaddancer @alyxdefoisnthere @damian-morningstar @charlie-morningstar666

[ask-theradio-demon]

I Had To Jump In Before It Was Too Late. .

[voxslays]

could you pretty pls make a velvette x reader one of the haztober days?

COSTUME PARTY

Featuring >>> Vees x Reader (separately); In which, you run into them at a Halloween party, and find yourselves under similar circumstances.

✪ VOX ✪

It was the night of the Voxtek Halloween party, a yearly tradition where the Vee’s threw a huge gala-like party and invited anyone relevant or famous at the time. The invitation list commonly included overlords, Goetia’s, popstars, and actors. One year Lucifer himself even attended. One of the reasons why you were shocked to see the host, Vox, standing in the corner. His presence is imposing, commanding attention without saying a word. His sharp gaze misses nothing, taking in the extravagant costumes and the way the guests interact with each other. His screen lighting up as he puts on his showman persona whenever someone influential stops by.

“Howdy Vox.” You say jokingly, referencing your costume. This year, you were a cowgirl. Vox's gaze snaps towards you as you approach him, his eyes flicking over your costume appreciatively. A small smile plays on his lips as he takes in your attire. “Well, well, if it isn’t a cowgirl. And here I thought you’d go as some mythical creature.” He grins. “Well surprise~” You let out a soft laugh. “So…what are you supposed to be?” You ask, looking him up and down.

“A media mogul.” Vox looks down at his suit, which is identical to the ones he wears to work every day. His only nod to the holiday is a small, golden pin in the shape of a television screen affixed to his lapel. He raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s Halloween. You could’ve atleast tried a little. Both Valentino and Velvette did.” Vox’s expression turns icy at the mention of his partners. He looks around the room, his eyes lingering on a few of the more extravagant costumes before settling back on you. “I don’t need a costume to stand out in a room full of pretenders.” You hum melodically. “Whatever you say.”

Vox's expression softens slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He leans against the wall, his posture relaxed. “You're not going to argue with me? No snappy comeback or clever retort?” You roll your eyes, clutching your drink tighter. “Why would I waste my time with someone so boring?” You taunt. ​​Vox's eyes narrow, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. He steps closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. "Careful, little cowgirl. Push me too far and you might find yourself in a situation you can't charm your way out of."

You hold his gaze, unblinking. After a moment, Vox's face breaks into a wide, predatory grin. "You're playing with fire, you know that? But if you're really not afraid, maybe we should find a private room and...discuss this further." You giggle softly, taking another sip of your beverage. “Only if you’re up for that Mr. Vox.” You tease, brushing the corner of his screen. Vox's breath hitches slightly at your touch, his screen flickering in response. His eyes darken, the predatory grin never leaving his face. "Oh, darling, I'm always up for a challenge."

☆ VELVETTE ☆

The Vees were throwing a Halloween party. They did every year. Over the past year, you had worked closely with Valentino, helping him improve his scripts, and helped Vox with his numbers. However, there was one Vee you didn’t like. Velvette. No matter what you did, she always seemed to critique you, always insulting your outfits, saying how ‘she would never be caught dead in them’. So you were shocked when you showed up to the annual Halloween party in matching witch costumes. 

Velvette's head snaps up when she sees you walking in, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your matching witch costume. “Oh, for fuck's sake...” She groans, burying her face back in her arms. “Not you too...” She mutters under her breath, clearly unimpressed. “Aww…sad you can’t criticize me, Velvette?” You ask, mockingly. Velvette's head shoots back up, her eyes flashing with anger. She leans forward on the couch, her voice dripping with venom. "Criticize you? Honey, if I had a dollar for every time I've wanted to rip apart one of your outfits, I'd be rich."

“You can’t tonight, can you?” You bend down, looking into the eyes of the shorter overlord. Velvette's face contorts into a sneer, her arms crossing over her chest. "No, I can't..." She leans back on the couch, her eyes traveling over your body, taking in the details of your costume. "You actually look...pretty.” She huffs. Your eyes widen for a split second, before resuming their neutral gaze. “Aww thanks Velvette.” You pat the small overlord on the head. ​​"Don't get used to it." She mutters, her face flushing slightly as she realizes she had just paid you a compliment. “Just....stop talking before you ruin it.” Velvette sits up and glares at you, her cheeks glowing a dark crimson color. 

Thinking the conversation was over, you turn to walk away. Velvette gently grabs your arm, pulling you closer. ​​She huffs, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. "Hey, don't think this makes us friends or something, okay?" She pauses, then adds grudgingly. "or that I'll go easy on you in the future." You simply smirk. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” Velvette's expression softens slightly, a hint of vulnerability flickering in her eyes before she masks it with her usual scowl. "Good." She grumbles, turning her attention back to her phone, her earlier outburst seemingly forgotten.

✧ VALENTINO ✧

​​You had just arrived at the Vees annual Halloween party, wearing your kitty costume, which was decked out in black and red crystals. You were standing at the beverage table, pouring yourself a glass of (probably) spiked punch from the impressive cocktail fountain. "So, what's your name, Sweetheart?" Valentino asks as he approaches the table, leaning back. His four arms sprawling out casually, but his red, pupil-less eyes remain focused on you. "And what brings a pretty little thing like you to my party?"

“I was invited by Vox.” You say, remembering the tech overlord who you had known for almost half a century. "Ah, the big brain himself, I should've known." Valentino chuckles, his voice a low, rumbling purr. "Well, I must say, Vox has great taste.” You take a sip of your drink, before quickly spitting it out. It was bitter and had an acidic, sour tang. You quickly tossed it in the nearest garbage can, managing to hit the can before the glass hit the ground, shattering all over the floor. “I’ll go clean that up.” You say, beginning to walk away.

"Hold up, carniño." Valentino stands up, his four arms moving with ease as he reaches out and grabs your arm. "You're not cleaning up that mess. I've got people for that." He looks you up and down, his red eyes gleaming with interest. "You know, I could use someone like you around here." He says, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. "Someone with a little attitude, a little spirit. And Vox says you're reliable, so that's a bonus." He leans in closer, his hot breath tickling your ear.

He gently lifts up your chin. "I'm offering you a job, Sweetheart." He pulls back, looking at you with a predatory grin. "Work for me at my studio. I can promise you fame, fortune, and experiences you've never even dreamed of." His four hands move to your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Look..uhm..Valentino-” He presses a finger to your lips. “Val sweetheart.” Valentino says, grinning. “Val.” You correct yourself. “I just, I already work for Vox, and I’m not interested in your industry.” He chuckles, his finger still pressed against your lips. "Well, let me make you an offer you can't refuse." He leans in closer, his face inches from yours. "Work for me part-time. Just a few hours a week."

“And the catch?” Valentino grins, his pink teeth and saliva on full display. "The catch is that you'll be my...personal assistant." He grins mischievously, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You'll handle my schedule, run my errands, that sort of thing. And in exchange, I'll pay you generously." You pause. “I'll consider it.” Valentino's grin widens, clearly pleased with your response. "I thought you might see it my way." He removes his finger from your lips and stands up, his four arms reaching out to help you up. "Excellent."

[hellishradio]

How is the abomination I gave you doing?

"A poor sinner has suffered its wrath."

[thebabyradiodemon]

Zzz... *He suddenly wakes up randomely* Ah!

... Ahaaa!

[radio-isnot-dead]

@itty-bitty-demon

A small demon somewhat closely resembling the Radio Demon himself carefully approached him. She chewed on her sleeve nervously, before tugging at the bottom of his suit, a silent attempt to get his attention. After all, the little demon didn't talk much. She was a bit shy.

Once alastor felt the alight tug on his suit he turned around and looked down to find the little demon. He tilted his head because he kind of resembled him then finally spoke.

"is there something you need, darling?"

[top-shelf-tender]

Alastor absolutely waits until Husk is in the process of cleaning the bar before manifesting himself in a surprise attack.

"HUSKER THINK QUICK-"

And absolutely clocks that feline right in the head with a large snowball.

Not only was Husk bludgeoned with a projectile, but it was cold. An involuntary yowl preceded the cat’s fur puffing, eyes wild as he swiped any lingering snow from the back of his head. While Alastor was falling about the place in a raucous fit of laughter, the bartender grabbed the nearest towel, wet it, came out from behind the bar, and snapped it on Alastor’s ass.