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1941-crowley-slut · 1 year ago

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Listen I typically headcanon Crow and Azi as asexual...

...but.

I have recently started considering the other possibility as well. Because they might be angel and demon, but it is not a new concept for them that they do human things. Especially after they have already gotten to that breaking point where (reason aside) they express their love through a physicality (the kiss). Imagine what would come next, how hungry they would be for each other after getting the first taste... (que flashback of Aziraphale trying the ox, thank you)

So I've been thinking about their first time. I think that it would be something unprompted, unexpected, although Aziraphale is definitely the kind of person to plan such things. He would have loved to plan it all, make a big romantic scene with wine and music and rose petals and dim lighting. And I bet Crowley's falling-in-love-under-an-awning-in-the-rain ass would like that too, even if he pretended otherwise.

But they wouldn't do that. They wouldn't really think it through at all beforehand. I think they'd just get taken away in a loving, intimate moment between them on the couch of Azi's bookshop. Crowley would have locked the doors with a snap of his fingers and performed a little miracle to make it so they would be invisible from the outside. Not so much for himself, but for Azi.

And he'd be oh so gentle with his angel. Even though he'd be filled with so much need and passion due to the longing he's had to endure for this angel, Crowley wouldn't fail to make the other feel loved. He'd take it slow, intertwine their fingers, kiss Aziraphale sweetly and occasionally ask him if he was feeling alright, feeling good. He'd be careful, because Aziraphale would be so very fragile in his hands at that moment.

And when they were done... After Aziraphale managed to get past these new shocking feelings, the high he was currently experiencing, guilt would set in. He'd sit up, turn away from Crowley in a panic and hurriedly attempt to dress himself in his shirt and fix his hair. The same panic we saw him experience after the kiss in season 2. He'd be refusing to allow Crowley to look at his face, make eye contact, all while mumbling things like "Oh, what did I do?" "This is so wrong..." "We shouldn't have. We really shouldn't have.", as well as numerous things about being tempted.

Crowley would watch for a moment. Just for enough time, until he knew Aziraphale would feel okay being touched again. He knows his angel so well, he knows all his green and red lights and how long it takes to get to them. And he wouldn't be upset. He wouldn't feel betrayed or offended over Aziraphale thinking they made a mistake. Because Crowley knows these thoughts are not his own, but the ones he has been fed from the beginning of their creation. He knows Aziraphale suffers with religious trauma and guilt, even though the angel himself prefers to be oblivious to it.

Soon enough, Crowley would approach. He'd snake his arms around Aziraphale's waist with gentle motions that wouldn't startle the angel. He'd hold the other from behind quietly and press light kisses to his nape as a reassurance. As his way of saying "You didn't do anything wrong, angel. You're still good. And I love you."

With another snap of his fingers, he'd get them all cleaned up, and maybe also dressed, if Aziraphale needed it. If he felt more comfortable that way. And then he'd make sure they were in bed, watching cheesy romcoms that Azi likes. And Crowley would do his very best not to complain about the clichés, or he'd only make silly little remarks that he knew would make Aziraphale smile, even just momentarily.

[ Note: The intro has been edited ]

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hellborn-bitch · 4 months ago

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First Impressions

A continuation of Zira meeting Alastor, including their deal-making. I’m gonna call this another one-shot kinda ? Cuz it’s not really a chapter ? Idk lol

Again, this is entirely self-indulgent and I’m just kinda writing to write I don’t really have a formal plan to make this into a fic. Yet… ?

Alastor believed first impressions were crucial. He’d understood the importance when he was alive, and certainly did so in Hell. He took great pride in the fact a single glance struck fear into the hearts of any demon who dared to cross his path.

But this demon, this succubus, was different. She couldn’t be bothered to even feign fear of him. He couldn’t decide if he found it brave and admirable, or naive and ignorant to hold eye contact with the infamous Radio Demon the way she had. She was either unaware or apparently unafraid of his ruthless reputation.

Looking at her, her face full of disgust with what he assumed was a permanent frown, he found himself slightly amused. There was something to be said about unrelenting defiance, that he could almost appreciate.

Almost. Certainly not when it was directed to him, however.

“You’re looking at her.” She hissed, her tail flicking aggressively to punctuate her words.

So bold. So stubborn. This kind of blatant disrespect he would expect from the Vees, but from a Hellborn succubus, of all demons? Nearly the bottom of the food chain in Hell’s hierarchy and yet here she stood, brazenly defiant before him.

It was an entirely foreign concept to him, to have a soul so obviously beneath him act as though they weren’t. And it was perfectly irritating.

Alastor hummed in contemplation, mulling over how to proceed with his newest acquisition. “I trust you’ve already signed the contract then?”

His gaze immediately flicked to Asmodeus, as he cleared his throat to speak, “Actually no, that was to be done today to complete the uh… transaction.”

Alastor watched him flinch as the word left his mouth, and looked curiously over to the subject of said transaction.

She rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms with a huff, “Well that’s one way to put it.”

The utterance under her breath had gone unnoticed by the embodiment of Lust, but Alastor had heard it. He couldn’t help the dark laugh that gathered in his throat as he basked in her clear hatred for her current situation.

“Well then! I am more than delighted to draft the deal myself.” Alastor’s grin stretched, his eyes darkening with malicious intent. “I do love making deals, after all.”

Azira watched as his red eyes flashed and the odd static from before seemed to creep back into the room like a suffocating fog. She instinctively backed away in disgust, her face contorting to match the sentiment. This freak was becoming more and more of a problem for her.

Her eyes widened in realization, a new wave of energy washing over her as she pointed an accusatory finger at Alastor.

“Wait- if I haven’t signed any contract, then I’ve not been sold to anyone! I can’t just be acquired! He didn’t own me yet, and neither do you.”

Alastor watched as her face shifted back to familiar defiance, her eyes challenging him to find the flaw in her logic. Which, he could, of course. But oh, how he was enjoying watching her false sense of victory over him.

His pulse quickened in anticipation just thinking about her inevitable fall into his clutches, how delicious her disappointment would be. Asmodeus suddenly spoke again, interrupting his predatory plans.

“I’m afraid that’s… not quite how it works, babe.” He reasoned with her gently.

“What the Hell are you talking about?” She threw her hands up exasperatedly and shifted her weight onto one hip.

“No contract, no Overlord, NO DEAL.” She locked eyes with the Radio Demon when delivering the last two words, yet another challenge.

Asmodeus laughed nervously, and spoke instead to Alastor, “Could you excuse us for a moment? I just… need to discuss a few things with her.”

Alastor waved a hand dismissively, before turning it around to examine his claws, feigning disinterest. He was sure to keep a well-tuned ear, in the direction of the two demons, listening.

He watched Asmodeus pull Azira to the other side of the room, a massive hand on each of her shoulders.It was evident there was a bond between the two, but he couldn’t quite place the nature of it.

“Look… when we were still alone, there was a chance I could play it off and explain the circumstances to get you off the hook.”

He took a deep sigh and ran a hand through his multi-colored plumage. “But now the Radio Demon knows about it, and he smells the blood in the water. He is the last person to drop a deal that’s already been made.”

“BUT HE CAN’T-“ Azira was cut off by Asmodeus shushing her softly, a hand coming to cup her cheek.

Alastor watched, fighting his curiosity from winning over the discretion he was attempting. He couldn’t understand the dynamic between the two of them. Were they friends? Lovers?

Surely not…

Then again, he wasn’t exactly the best at deciphering between social and romantic cues. Or social cues at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, refocusing himself on his task of subtle eavesdropping.

Asmodeus spoke to her with a firm certainty. “You know I would never steer you wrong. This is still the better option. We both know that.”

“I don’t know that!” Azira retorted, “I don’t know a damn thing about him, Ozz!”

“But you do know who else wants you.” He said ominously, a reminder and warning at the same time.

Azira sighed and let her eyes wander across the room to begrudgingly settle on Alastor. He matched and locked eyes with her again. This time he found himself searching, though he wasn’t entirely sure what for. He saw two irises, one red and one white, holding too many emotions for him to process at once.

He could see the heavy cloud of disappointment.

He could see hatred. Or was it self-hatred?

He saw disgust and disdain.

But what he didn’t, or perhaps couldn’t see… was fear. Quite peculiar, he thought. Most souls would be terrified at the thought of being owned by him. Why wasn’t she?

He wondered what she thought of him. Wondered what sort of impression he had made on her, seeing as the only reaction he’d expected and grown accustomed to, was missing. Truly, he was at a loss for what to make of her altogether. The only thing he was sure of, was the deep seated drive he had to break her.

Azira turned to look at Asmodeus one last time, as if pleading for him to fix this. To stop her from being sold to the Radio Demon.

The Lord of Lust only offered her a firm nod in return, before disappearing in a whirl of flames. She was now alone with Alastor, with her new master.

“Now then!” Alastor broke the heavy silence with a misplaced cheerful tone. “ Azira, you will officially belong to me, once this deal has been made. You will come and go, do and say… as I command, when I command.”

Azira bit back the growl that rose in her throat at the sheer audacity this prick had. As if, she would ever be caught dead playing someone’s house pet. She didn’t offer a response, only hardening the glare she kept fixed on him.

“In exchange, I can promise your safety, and offer you a place to stay where I can… keep an eye on you,” he said with a smirk.

Her blood was boiling. She couldn’t possibly agree to this. Death would be better, she thought.

Maybe she could chase Ozzie down, change her mind and choose the option that resulted in her being murdered, instead. At least then, she could keep some semblance of dignity as she accepted her mandated punishment.

“Do we have a deal?” Alastor reached towards her once again, his unnaturally large hand beckoning for an answer.

“Fine.” She huffed, and tentatively extended her hand out to meet his much larger one.

That was all he needed.

A wide sinister grin split his face, neon green stitches the only thing still keeping it together. His eyes flashed to blood red, ticking dials; his sclera now devoid of all color.

The screams of thousands of trapped souls swirled around them, sending shivers down her spine. She could not see them, but she felt hands. Hands all over her body, pulling at her, begging her to help.

There was nothing she could do. She was one of those trapped souls now.

She gasped as a neon green collar formed around her neck. Her eyes followed as chains of the same glowing material linked together one at a time, until they ended in the closed fist of the Radio Demon.

She instinctively brought both hands up to tug at the collar, a pointless effort, she quickly found. Alastor watched as panic set in, her breathing increasing and eyes going wide.

He found it positively delightful to watch her squirm under the sheer idea of belonging to him. He wondered how long it would take to break that rebellious spirit of hers. To reduce her to nothing but a submissive pet on her knees before him.

Azira squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to whatever forces she could summon, that when she opened them this would all have been nothing but a horrible nightmare.

She kept them closed as she heard her captor continued cackling like some deranged beast. She felt a mist overcome her body, and tendrils of some force that felt both human and nonexistent at the same time. They wrapped around her waist and legs, lifting her off the ground effortlessly.

Her eyes were still sealed shut as she felt her body descend into nothingness, feeling weightlessly heavy. She could still hear the Radio Demon laughing, but the sound was no longer directly in front of her. Every direction seemed to echo his laugh back then her, a cacophony of cruel mockery adding to her sense of helplessness.

She so desperately wanted this to be a nightmare. It had to be…

It wasn’t until her feet hit something solid that she agreed to finally peek them open. Blinking rapidly, her eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh change in light, especially her left eye.

She quickly took in her surroundings, her hand instinctively reaching for the multiple blades she kept in holsters on each thigh. To the left there was a tall iron gate, behind it some kind of massive building atop a steep hill. As her eyes panned to the right, she caught sight of a tall figure moving in her peripheral vision.

She unsheathed a large dagger in her right hand, and plucked two throwing knives in her left, lunging towards the figure. The dark mass itself jumped, somehow seeming startled, before dissipating into the sidewalk.

“Now, now dear,” she heard an unfortunately familiar voice start. Two shadowy hands clamped around her wrists, forcing the angelic steel blades to fall to the ground with a clang.

She yelped in both surprise and pain, “Hey! What the fuck-“

“You won’t be needing these anymore.” Alastor stood directly in front of her, that same stupid grin still on his face. She tried yanking her arms free from the fists holding her captive, turning to see they were made of a shadowy mist rather than flesh and blood. She turned back to him to glare directly through whatever soul he may have had.

Alastor tutted, “Oh come now dear, you didn’t think you were rid of me, did you?” His voice dripping in a fake sickly sweet tone that made her stomach turn.

Azira let out an exaggerated groan, rolling her eyes and turning her head away from him, “I could only hope so.”

He laughed darkly before grabbing her face with one hand, forcing her to look at him, “Unfortunately for you, my dear, that will never happen.”

With every word he grew closer to her face, until she was only inches away from his cold red irises. “You belong to me now.”

She heard a growl come from the shadow behind her, but was unable to turn to see it. She gave a tentative tug at her wrists again, to which the shadow responded by squeezing tighter. She attempted to kick behind her at the shadow, before two more appendages wrapped around her ankles.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her pupils constricting as her body took hold in its familiar fight or flight response. “Good luck trying to tame me.”

His claws dug into the sides of her face, opening her mouth ever so slightly. She took the opportunity and spat at him, a few small droplets landing on his cheek, “You’re going to need it, demon.”

Bringing his free hand up to wipe the offended spot clean, he refused to break eye contact. She was waiting for the laugh she expected to follow, but it never came. He only hummed in contemplation, as he searched her face for something he could use against her. Anything.

He was eager to destroy her hopes of escaping him. She was so sure of herself, to a fault, evidently unconcerned about the consequences of her actions. He needed to break her of that little habit. He wanted to watch as that veil of cockiness fell around her.

He had a feeling she would be a difficult one to crack.

But Alastor hadn’t become the all powerful Radio Demon by backing away from a challenge.

“Darling there’s no need to be hateful. I am merely the consequences of your own actions,” he drawled, very clearly enjoying himself. “You’ve done this to yourself it seems.”

He watched as her glare hardened, before softening as she averted her gaze. She seemed to be dissociating before his eyes, no longer present before him as she let his words sink in.

Ah… so he’d found it…

He sighed and released her face. She opened her mouth to protest, or send off yet another spiteful remark, but was quickly cut off by a shadow hand taking the place of its master's holding her face.

Alastor snapped his fingers, as an ominous green glow began emanating from his index. He swiped his finger across her lips in a loose zig zag formation, leaving behind a trail of glowing green strings.

If she had been able to open her mouth, a frustrated “What the FUCK?!” would’ve tumbled from her lips.

But she couldn’t. Alastor had quite literally sewn her mouth shut, held together with sutures of neon green energy.

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to resort to such extreme measures, but it seems you’ve left me no choice,” he explained with an exaggerated sense of disappointment.

She didn’t buy it for a second, she could tell he loved it. The power he was lording over her and quite literally silencing her with. He was a sick bastard, who got off on making others subservient to him. She was beyond furious, but all she could do was continue to glare at him.

“Now that you’ve been successfully muzzled…” Zira growled and attempted to lunge at him, but was still held captive by the Shadow.

“… I do hope you can behave yourself if we release you. Can you behave, like a good little dear?”

She huffed, and rolled her eyes. Every cell in her body wanted her to fight and continue to be as difficult as possible. But the voice of reason she normally tried to block out, warned her otherwise. This was already going to be a miserable fate, but she needed to play her cards carefully if she wanted to avoid making it harder for herself.

She let her shoulders slump forward and gave a curt nod to the demon.

“Delighted to hear it! Or rather, see it. Because… you know… you’re not exactly on speaking terms right now,” he joked with a sick wink.

She audibly groaned. She would’ve purposely vomited on his shoes at that sad excuse for humor, had her mouth not been sewn shut.

“Now then! I believe it’s time we introduce you to your new home, and the many…” he paused, waving his hand in an effort to find the right word, “…colorful residents that inhabit it.”

She nodded again, and was pleasantly surprised as her arms and legs were released. She rubbed at her red wrists, sending an icy glare at the offending creature and sending it shrieking away into the ground.

Alastor rolled his eyes at his Shadow’s cowardly behavior, and extended an arm towards Azira. She looked at it and then back up to his face as if to say, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

He sighed and lifted it to her yet again, pleading for her to take the hint and allow him to escort her. “You may think me a monster… and you’d be right… but I am still a gentleman.”

She hesitantly looped her arm around his, unsure what to make of his gesture. He had sewn her mouth shut while some strange Shadow restrained her, but now he was going to provide a gentlemanly escort up a hill?

He ignored her perplexed expression, and directed his attention to opening the iron gate in front of him. He began walking up the path, Zira reluctantly hanging on his arm, headed towards the looming building ahead of them.

“Come along now, there’s lots to be done, dear.”

#azira #my oc #hellaverse #hellaverse oc #alastor #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #one shot #rose writes

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