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greenandsorrow · 1 day ago

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In case you missed this getting updated!

the price for misbehaving (iii)

Alastor x gn!reader in heat

WARNINGS; explicit content, deer/doe!demon!reader with fem anatomy, needy!reader, soft-dom!Alastor, ovulation talk, horniness & hormones, breeding kink, primal instincts, mentions of deer mating season, cunningulus, penetrative sex, angst, comfort, fluff, wholesomeness, friends to lovers, smut with emotion, finding your forever mate, don't forget to use protection irl my loves

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either 🧡

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! And the relative patience. This is literally Part 1 but with the roles reversed. I hope you enjoy it and I promise that the finale won't take long!

For additional rut smut, check this out!

~masterpost~

After your first kiss, life went back to normal -well, for a month or so.

Friendly bickering, long conversations about everything and nothing, his unnerving yet strangely comforting presence always in reach...

Despite that normalcy, you realized Alastor's rut shook your quiet and uneventful life in an irreversible way. His musth has done more than leave you breathless... It has awakened something primal in you, too.

The fever hit you slowly. In the beginning, it was an ache in your limbs, a strange warmth in your chest, a restlessness in your thoughts. You blamed the sudden activeness of your sexual life during his rut.

But by the time your heat fully bloomed, there was no mistaking it.

The first wave came in the middle of an idle day, leaving you gripping the counter of the hotel's kitchen -a surge of warmth low in your belly and cramps in your bust.

A strangled laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"Oh, this is just perfect~" you muttered, rubbing at the base of your antlers, trying to get rid of the sudden itch.

It was no use.

The itch persisted.

That smug bastard would love to know he had dragged you into this.

When Alastor arrived later, on that same evening, his tailored suit as sharp as ever and his grin sharper, you were already a bundle of nerves and hormones. His energy filled the room like crackling fire and the scent of him sent heat and moisture pooling between your thighs.

You crossed your arms, determined to ignore your physical reactions.

"You look flushed" Alastor commented, cocking his head inquisitively, crimson eyes glinting with slight amusement.

"Gee, I wonder why" you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe it's because someone's rut threw me into heat."

Alastor blinked, the teasing grin faltering just slightly. Then it returned, wider than before.

"Oh, my dear deer, I had no idea I had such an effect on you!"

"Don't flatter yourself~" you snapped, though your body betrayed you, leaning in.

He stepped closer, his long fingers brushing against your jawline.

"You're in heat..." he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "...and you came to me?"

"I didn't just 'come to you'" you grumbled. "You're always here."

"Hmm" he mused, his gaze flicking to your slightly grown antlers. "It still is deer mating season, isn't it? Fascinating how instinct takes over."

You were at his radio tower, sitting on the little sofa he had fit in there. It was supposed to be a chill night, with you reading while he did his own thing. Despite the 'chill' part, as the night progressed, the tension between you became unbearable. Your mating instincts were undeniable -the flicks of your little tail, the darkened hue of your eyes, the way your antlers gleamed under the dim light.

"You're ovulating" Alastor said at some point, his tone both matter of factly and dangerously hungry.

"Don't say it like that..." you protested, face burning.

"But it's true" he retorted, leaning down, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "And you smell divine."

Indeed.

Something had changed.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was charged, humming with unspoken words. When he stood close to you again, you found yourself leaning into his space without even realizing it, drawn to the comforting, masculine warmth he offered.

And he let you.

Alastor Hartfelt -who once kept everyone at arm's length with his theatrical charm- has softened in ways you don't fully understand, nor anticipated. He lingers longer after your conversations and he smiles more -not the razor-sharp grin he uses for the world's eyes, but something more sincere, almost fond.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you planning on saying something?" you ask petulantly, trying to keep your voice light despite the strange heat creeping up your neck.

It's late in the afternoon.

"I find your company... pleasant" he simply answers, making your stomach flutter.

This is the closest thing to an admission you've ever gotten from him ...and it's enough, for now. See, you have been pestering him the whole day to tell Rosie about you and him, and when he stopped giving you attention, you had started crying in frustration.

It's true, your friendship has begun to shift into something more. It's not just the hormones that make you crave his touch... It's the way he treats you and it's also the way he makes you feel deep inside your condemned soul.

You remember the way he had looked at you during his rut -wildly, ravenously, yet with restraint, as if the mere idea of hurting you was repulsive to him. Even now, with your body betraying you, you know he'd never take more than you're willing to give.

The whole trust thing is what makes this so so maddening. It's intimate in ways neither of you is familiar with.

"Are you always this quiet during mating season?" he addresses you playfully, breaking the silence as you pace your small bedroom back and forth -trying to burn off the restless energy coursing through you.

"Only when someone else's rut has completely broken my biological clock" you shoot back, throwing him a glare over your shoulder.

His laugh is rich and warm, a sound that -to your dismay- sends shivers down your spine.

"You're welcome."

"Oh, you think you're so funny!" you exclaim, frustrated, but the corners of your lips betray you, twitching into a reluctant smile.

"Amusing enough to not kick me out, it seems."

This whole ordeal has to be one of the rare occasions where Alastor isn't trying to show off -when it comes to actions, because this man has an unstoppable flare when it comes to words.

And it starts out small, so small you almost don't notice it.

The radio demon isn't exactly a coddling or hovering guy, but after his rut, he begins stepping in. He pulls out your chair before you sit, hands you things before you can ask and walks you everywhere, even when you insist you don't need any company.

When your heat starts creeping in, it's not just his presence that comforts you -it is the way he seems to know, instinctively, what you need.

As the "heat wave" progresses, he becomes more and more protective -proactive as well.

Alastor is always watching, always listening. A step ahead of you at every turn. He hands you a glass of water before you realize how dry your throat is, pulls the curtains closed when the sunlight feels too harsh to your easily overstimulated system.

"Eat" he commands one evening, setting a plate in front of you without the usual fanfare.

His tone is brisk, but his eyes linger on yours, soft and unreadable.

"I'm not hungry" you whine softly, crossing your arms.

"You'll need your strength" he explains, unbothered by your defiance.

His insistence would've been annoying if it weren't so... sweet.

He doesn't push further, just stays nearby, humming an old tune as you reluctantly take a bite.

It only gets worse from here.

Every sound is amplified to the point of distraction and most smells make you dizzy and fussy.

Now, you are pacing around all the time.

Alastor stays silent during those restless times, watching you with a focus that would unnerve any other sinner. However, all it makes you feel is frustration.

"Stop staring! You're always doing that and I'm sick of it, Al!" you lash out, rubbing at your temples.

"You, stop fidgeting and moving" he retorts.

"Excuse me?! What- what do you want me to do? Sit still and burn alive?"

His grin softens, replaced by something calmer and more serious.

"You're not alone in this."

The words shouldn't mean as much as they do, but they hit something deep in you. Alastor -your oldest friend- is here, grounding you when your own body betrays you.

"You don't owe me anything, if that's why you've stuck around after... you know what." you say, pacing the room for what must be the fifth time this evening.

When you stumble, knees buckling from the ache between your thighs, he catches you before you hit the floor. His hands are firm yet cautious, holding you like you might shatter.

"Careful" he says softly, his crimson eyes meeting yours. "I've got you."

His antlers brush against yours as he guides you to your single bed, the accidental contact sending a shiver down your spine. His scent fills your senses -practically intoxicating you- and you start rubbing against him, unconsciously.

"Alastor? ...why are you being so nice to me?" you mutter, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Because I care" he replies simply -and for once, there is no teasing in his voice.

"You're hovering a little too much these days" you grumble weakly.

He doesn't flinch. "I'm making myself useful."

His calmness infuriates you, mostly because he's right. Everything he does is perfectly timed, perfectly measured -and it leaves you feeling raw and exposed. It's like he can see every vulnerable part of you, laid bare without your permission.

You're being driven insane by the constant heat and ache, the gnawing need that you are aware you can't satisfy on your own.

And Alastor's constant presence doesn't help your raging progesterone. (I'm sorry)

"I don't like you treating me like I'm about to fall apart~"

He tilts his head, antlers catching the soft light as he studies your frame in his arms. "You're not yourself right now. Someone has to keep an eye on you."

You huff, face hot, hands curling into fists. "I'm fine, Alastor. I'm not some delicate flower that needs-"

"You almost fell. Clearly, you're perfectly fine..." he says, his tone laced with dry amusement.

You huff at that.

You want to snap at him again, to push him away, to hit him even, but his scent is everywhere -woody and sweet, warm and grounding. It clouds your mind, the primal part of you drawn to him despite your pride.

"Let go" you say under your breath, the words lacking conviction.

"I don't think I will."

Alastor's grip is strong, but not uncomfortable, his thumbs brushing over your arms in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"Not when you're like this."

You swallow hard, caught between the familiar frustration and the embarrassing comfort his touch brings. The heat pooling low in your belly grows with every brush of his fingers and you hate how you want more.

"Like what?!" you eventually snap again, though your voice wavers.

"Overheating? Aching? On the verge of snapping at me for simply breathing in your direction?"

His tone is light and teasing, but there's an edge of knowing behind it and it makes you freeze. Makes you remember the state he was in only a few weeks ago.

Your silence betrays you and his grin widens, smug and victorious.

"That's what I thought."

You glare at him, still resisting his soothing touches. "I'm not some helpless little fawn, Alastor."

"No, you're not" he agrees, eyes gleaming.

"You're stubborn, snippy, and-" his gaze drifts over you and his voice drops. "...painfully uncomfortable."

The honesty in his tone catches you off guard and before you can argue AGAIN, he presses a steady hand on your shoulder, guiding you to lay down.

"Humor me. Just this once, y/n."

Reluctantly, you comply, but not without crossing your arms over your chest.

"Fine. But this doesn't mean I need you."

"Of course not" he says with a smile that borders on condescending.

You open your mouth to retort once more, but the words die in your throat when Alastor's palms land on your shoulders.

His warmth seeps through your shirt and when he starts to knead the tension there, a low moan escapes from you.

"Goodness" he teases, his thumbs working into a particularly tight knot. "Is this where all your attitude is hiding?"

"Shut up" you mutter, while unabashedly rolling so you're laying on your stomach, giving him better access.

His touch is phenomenal, long fingers tracing over the muscles of your neck and shoulders with a precision that makes you shiver all over.

It feels too good -too intimate- but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

"Your antlers must be killing you" he observes after a long moment of silence, his hands drifting up to brush the base of them.

The sensation sends a spark between your thighs and you have to swallow a grunt to appear composed.

"They're doing fine" you lie, but the way you perk your head up and toward his touch betrays you.

"Mantè" he murmurs, his voice low and amused.

"I'm not lying!" you whine and he shushes you with a cheeky look.

You sit up a little, petulantly.

When his touch moves to the space between your antlers, you let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

He stills, his sharp grin fading as his eyes meet yours.

"Ah" he says softly, his tone more curious than mocking. "Sensitive, aren't we?"

"Don't~" you warn, but it comes out weak and breathless.

"Don't what?"

His fingers start to move again -slowly and deliberately- and your body betrays you completely. A whimper escapes your lips this time and his smile turns wicked.

"Don't do this?"

You don't answer, biting your lip to stifle another sound, but he hears it anyway.

"You're tense everywhere" he taunts, his hands sliding down to your shoulders again. "Let me help."

Your heart pounds in your chest as his hands drift lower, skimming your sides, his touch intent but not quite crossing any lines. Yet.

"Alastor" you breathe, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.

"Yes, my dear?" he replies in a velvet-smooth voice, but there's a flicker of something darker in his gaze now. Something primal.

"Is this-"

You pause, swallowing hard.

"Is this a bad idea?"

His grin softens and now there's no teasing in his voice. "Not if you want it."

"Just- just rub my back a little more."

"As you wish, my dear~"

Soon, the tension reaches a breaking point.

You pull away from his hands abruptly.

Your antlers scrape the bed's headboard, a dull throb blooming at their base -and it's the last straw.

"Enough!" you half-shout and half-whine, voice cracking in despair. "I can't- I can't take this anymore!"

Alastor's eyes widen as he watches you start pacing around once more, but this time with your hands tagging at your hair.

"It's too much!" you continue, your voice rising with every word. "Everything hurts, everything burns! And I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin! And you-"

You whirl to face him, your vision blurring at the edges. "You're not helping me at all! You're just- just there! Smiling and being smug and-"

Your words break off into a choked sob and before you can stop yourself, the tears come. You press your palms to your face, trying to stifle the sounds, but it's impossible.

The silence stretches, heavy.

Then, there's movement -soft and careful. Alastor approaches slowly, his usual energy toned down.

"Darling…" he speaks softly, his voice stripped of its previous amusement.

"Don't- Not again~" you start as well, your words muffled behind your trembling hands.

But when his arms come around you, warm and steady and so secure, you don't push him away.

He holds you without a word, his chin resting on your shoulder as you shake against him.

"I didn't realize" he explains, regretful. "I thought teasing would help distract you, not… make you cry."

You shake your head, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"It's not your fault" you manage, though the words feel hollow.

He pulls back just enough to meet your watery eyes, his hands cupping your face with surprising gentleness.

"Let's do it right, hm? No games. No teasing. Just… let me take care of you, just like you took care of me when I needed you most. How does that sound to my dearest deer?"

Something in his tone breaks through the overwhelming haze of lust you're currently experiencing.

You nod -a small, shaky movement.

"Good."

He guides you back onto the bed, his movements unhurried this time. As your back meets the mattress, he slips his arms under your knees, his long fingers trailing up your oversensitive thighs, making your breath hitch.

"Relax" he says, his voice soothing. "I only want to help."

You nod again, your body trembling as his hands slip beneath the waistband of your PJ shorts, pulling them down with care.

His crimson gaze flicks up to meet yours -checking- and when you don't stop him, he leans in.

The first touch of his tongue is toe curling -to say the least- and you gasp loudly, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your core... and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips.

"Just like that" he praises, his voice muffled against your wetness, and he gets to work -tongue moving in slow, measured strokes.

Your head falls back against one pillow, your breathing ragged as the tension in your body finally starts to unravel. Alastor's hands grip your thighs, holding you steady and open for him.

When you glance down, the sight of him -his sharp antlers gently scratching your abdomen and thighs, his bright eyes half-lidded and focused on your sex- sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

"Alastor" you moan, your voice trembling uncontrollably.

He pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, though it's softer than before. "Yes, my dear?"

"Don't you dare stop" you whisper and his smile fades into something more tender and loving.

"Never" he promises, diving back in.

When you finally fall apart, your body shaking with the force of it, he doesn't move away an inch. He stays with you, his touch grounding, his lips pressing soft kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs and belly.

When you come down and while your body is still writhing, he rises, his hands now sliding under your arms to pull you up gently. He sits back, guiding you to straddle his lap.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, your hands resting on his chest. "I… I need more" you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something flickers in his gaze -desire, longing, maybe even excitement.

"I'm at your disposal."

He lifts you effortlessly, shifting you beneath him as he leans over, his body caging yours -without pressing down.

His antlers brush yours, the contact sending shivers through your whole body and it feels all tingly, and then his lips meet yours in a kiss that's surprisingly tender.

The moment he pushes into you, slow and careful, your breath catches. He stills, his forehead resting against yours.

A deep ache blooms where you've been craving him most. You can feel every ridge and every vein, the way his length stretches you, filling you completely. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice barely audible.

"Yes" you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Please, Al~"

"I had missed feeling you around me."

Neither of you expected this choice of words from him. If anything, it's what a couple...-

He doesn't wait for you to answer though.

Alastor begins to move, his pace measured, his hands cradling your hips as if you might break without the support. But there's an intensity in his gaze, a primal hunger that simmers just beneath the surface.

Missionary should never be underestimated. The eye contact, the emotional closeness, the way you can easily bring him down for a kiss, or run your fingers through his hair -that's starting to curl from all the sweat- make the experience so fulfilling to you frayed nerves.

Alastor keeps his body aligned with yours as he presses his forehead to your own. The heat radiating off his skin feels almost suffocating, but it also grounds you in the moment.

"Too much?" he whispers, his voice steady despite the faint tremor of his breath.

His antlers gently bump into yours once more and the sweet intimacy of the gesture makes your chest tighten.

"No" you manage, though the word is barely coherent. "It's perfect."

He groans softly at that, his hips shifting slightly so he can go even deeper.

"You're stunning" he murmurs mid thrust, his fingers tracing the contours of your face, before slipping lower, back on your hip. "Do you know that?"

You don't answer -can't answer. His thrusts are slow, the kind of pace that forces you to feel everything. It's maddening, the way he pulls out so slowly, only to push back in with measured precision, the friction setting your nerves alight.

Your body responds instinctively, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the pressure building low in your belly.

"Alastor~"

"Y/n?"

His tone is still soft, but now edged with restraint, as though he's holding himself back.

"Faster" you plead, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Pretty please."

He hesitates, his crimson eyes searching yours, before his control slips. His hips snap forward -harder this time- and you cry out, your back arching off the mattress.

"That's it" he groans, his voice rougher now, the sharp tips of his antlers grazing yours with every thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, more and more intensely, heat pooling tight in your core. The pleasure builds steadily, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, until it becomes almost unbearable.

"Alastor, I-"

Your words falter, your breath hitching as the tension in your belly coils even tighter, ready to snap -for the second time tonight.

His hand slides down, his thumb finding your swollen clit. The touch is feather-light at first, but when you whimper and whine, he applies more pressure, circling it in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me" he coaxes.

"Let go. I've got you, love."

The combination of his touch, his voice and what he just called you, the steady rhythm of his hips... It's all too much.

The tension snaps and your orgasm hits you hard, body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you time and time again. Your legs spasm around his waist, your head falling back as a cry tears from your lips. The sensation is sharp and all-consuming, your vision turns white.

"So good" he marvels while his hands remain on your hips, grounding you as you ride out the last waves of your climax. "You're breathtaking."

The aftershocks start to ripple through you. Despite your body feeling boneless, your chest is still heaving quite a lot.

Alastor doesn't stop moving, but his pace slows, his touches gentle and reverent.

When your vision returns, you see his gaze on you, filled with something soft and unspoken.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice low, a hint of uncertainty breaking through his usual confidence.

You nod, a shaky smile appearing on your flushed face.

"More than alright" you whisper, your hands coming up to cup his face.

He smiles back at you, leaning down to press a deep kiss to your lips.

"I'm glad, because I need just a little more to~ You know..."

How he can fuck you all the way up to Heaven, but shy away when it comes to voicing the simplest of things will always be beyond you. Still, you're too satisfied and sated to bring it up and tease him right now.

You're actually so sated you barely register his orgasm.

When Alastor finally slows, his movements become languid, savoring the last few moments of connection.

He presses a kiss against your temple as he pulls out, carefully.

A deep warmth lingers in your core, a mix of his seed and your own juices slipping out, leaving you feeling full and entirely undone.

"Sleepy?"

"You have no idea."

Your lover's gaze gets fixed on where you're leaking onto the bed sheets and he doesn't try to hide his possessive and proud expression.

You let out a little noise as the slickness spreads, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sticky" you mutter, your voice still weak from the intensity of your release.

He chuckles, going back to amused, before leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

"I'll take care of it."

True to his word, he disappears briefly and returns with a warm, damp towel. He cleans you gently, murmuring soothing words each time you shiver from the sensation.

When he's finished, he wraps you in a soft blanket he finds on a nearby chair and gathers you into his arms -his antlers brushing yours in the tender gesture you both seem to love.

"You're safe" he whispers, cradling you close against his chest. "Alastor got you."

Your body melts into him and you let exhaustion overtake you, sighing contentedly.

"I hate you sometimes" you mumble sleepily, though the affection in your tone conveys the true meaning of your words.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against you. "And yet, here you are, letting me hold you. How peculiar."

"Shut up" you grumble, burying your face in his chest.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the warmth.

Alastor is still wrapped around you, his long limbs tangled with yours, his breath heavy and steady against the crown of your head. The weight of his arm draped over your waist is comforting, his fingers twitching in utter relaxation.

But there's something else here -the ache, insistent, stirring as you shift against him and even more as you breathe in his natural scent. You bite your lip, trying to ignore it, but the moment you press your thighs together, a soft whimper escapes you.

Alastor stirs immediately, his crimson eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm? What's the matter, my dear?"

His voice is thick with sleep, but his focus sharpens as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the restless way you're shifting.

"Nothing" you reply dismissively, though the way your body arches slightly against his betrays you.

He raises an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"You're not very convincing" he coos, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "Do you need something?"

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up in both embarrassment and arousal.

"I woke up like this, okay?" you say defensively, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

His teasing demeanor shifts instantly, replaced by a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

"Oh, my poor thing"

He brushes a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

Before you can protest, his hand slides lower, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves with practiced ease -that he gained from your times together.

He moves slowly, coaxing soft gasps and whimpers from you.

"You're such a sensitive thing when you're in heat" he murmurs, his voice laced with awe.

"So perfect."

His touch is gentle but insistent, building you up until you're trembling. When you finally climax, it's softer than the night before but no less intense, leaving you breathless and boneless in his arms.

Alastor holds you close as you recover, his lips pressing soft kisses along your forehead and temple.

"Better?" he asks, his voice earnest and soothing.

You nod, burying your face against his neck. "Much better."

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll have to be more mindful of how easily I can wear you out."

You smack his chest lightly, earning another laugh, before settling back into the comfortable silence. As the morning light filters through the room, you let yourself relax, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.

"Thank you" you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He tilts your chin up, his red eyes meeting yours.

"Always" he replies softly, his antlers brushing yours in that gesture, hour gesture, yours and his -and it makes your heart ache.

In this moment, you realize there is no going back.

This isn't just fleeting indulgence -it's the beginning of something far deeper, something that feels as primal and undeniable as the instincts that brought you together.

You're his and he's yours. Forever.

To be continued.

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sassy-radio-hazbin-queen · 21 hours ago

Text

Ok I am going to talk about something that's been on my mind recently.

Major warning ⚠️ might get deep.

Also ADHD RAMBLING SORRY IN ADVANCE 😔

Regarding Alastor and the Seven year absence. Ok so I see how In some recent posts people say Alastor must feel forgotten by the Hasbin crew, cause When Sir Pentious and Dazzle died they got a portrait and a statue. While Alastor got nothing. And Charlie thought he had died too.

But while that is true I'm surprised no one talks about how Alastor already felt Forgotten long before the fight. I'm talking about when he finally got home after 7 years disappearance.

My boy didn't get a Welcome home,( although he did get one from Carmilla later on)or a " Hey are you ok". Nothing. What does he get. Pushed around, Judged ( though it's quite understandable it's still wrong) and even told that he basically didn't matter. Remember the scene between Carmilla and Alastor. Alastor was basically asking her " Hey while I was gone, Did you at least think about me"?. And Carmilla response was definitely " Eh Not Really, But welcome back in any case".

Sure he looked pissed but if I was in his place I'd feel very hurt. I kinda noticed how everyone treats Alastor as if he is the worst thing in hell. When there so much worse * cough Valentino cough*

From what I understand he only targeted those that hurt others. Maybe Hell was pissed because in a way he was saving other souls. Taking them from their abusive owners. Which is fucked up but it's hell. What do you expect?

I firmly believe Alastor grew up in a abusive household and definitely witnessed his mother getting abused which definitely affected his psyche. Maybe his father killed his mother and after killing his father he vowed no one will ever go through what he went through.

So he targeted awful people and offed them. When he got to hell. I think he felt his work wasn't done yet and now he is in the land of abusers and monsters. Maybe deep down. He was the one SCARED 😨.

Maybe he killed so he could feel safe in a twisted way. He ended up selling his soul cause he was scared. His owner who i headcanon is like Mother Gothel definitely didn't help. She manipulated him into thinking she is keeping him safe. When In reality she was using him for his powers.

I also headcanon that ( now this is going to sound crazy) His owner forces him to dress and act the way he does. She wants to be the only one who can play with her toy. His owner definitely doesn't share. So she will try to make him look in her eyes unappealing. We all know this doesn't work though. As Vox had fallen in love with him.

Now I don't believe Vox ever hurt Alastor and as much as I love stories where he gets 😳 obsessed. I actually would be happy if they become best friends again and hope it was just a giant misunderstanding just like Fizz and Blitz.

Still something happened That hurt Alastor deeply that he now hates anything to do with television. My Headcanon is cause Vox started to spend more time with Valentino and accidentally leaving Alastor in the dark. Alastor enjoyed spending time with Vox. Going dancing at a club, listening to radio shows. Even cuddling in a blanket watching a movie. But I think the main reason he enjoyed Vox's company is cause, His owner couldn't touch him. She couldn't hurt him in any way.

Kinda like how a person wants there friend over so there abuser doesn't hurt them. The abuser won't cause they rather do their evil deed in secret.

In other words Alastor felt safe around Vox and when he started spending time with Valentino and less with him. His owner would hurt him.

But no one knew this cause Alastor always had a smile on his face. Always seemed sure and confident of himself. This is a perfect representation of " You don't know what happens behind closed doors". I think this was a learned habit from childhood too. Maybe after his father abused him or/and his mother he would threaten to kill them if they told or even showed any signs of abuse.

His owner definitely has that power. If she has the power to give him power then she has the power to erase Alastor from existence. I think she threatened his afterlife multiple times.

Anyway eventually Vox and Alastor have a big fight which pissed the owner off. And she took him away for seven years. Personally I am among those that think she TORTURED him during that time.

I think she let him out and told him to watch the princess and make sure no one gets redeemed. She sews a smile on his face so everyone thinks he is happy and fine. Again reference to what I said earlier.

Alastor goes back home and everything has changed. Probably a culture shock to him. He goes to the hotel and had to pretend everything is ok. Maybe he was all touchy feely with everyone cause he wants to feel safe and secure. Like he is finally home and not hallucinating. When he is pushed away he acts like it doesn't matter but I think it does. I think it hurts him deeply but because of the abuse he endured in childhood and his afterlife he puts up a front as a defense mechanism.

As Alastor told Charlie

" Just because you see a Smile, don't think you know what's going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool my dear. It inspires your friends, Keeps your enemies Guessing and says no matter what comes your way, Your the one in control".

In a roundabout way he was basically calling for help without saying he needs help. Remember he can't tell her or anyone about what he went through. Of course In a way it means he is still a prisoner. His owner can take him away at any time and this definitely scares him. So he will do anything he can to prevent this from happening. Even making a deal with the princess of hell.

Anyway So while after the battle I think he felt Forgotten, I think he already felt that way. Like he doesn't matter and he wants to matter. His owner and father probably told him that he is worth nothing and no one will miss him while he is gone.

Well he was gone twice and NO ONE missed him.

That's very sad when you think about it and I'm surprised no one had brought it up yet.

Once again I apologize for my rambling thank you for reading