#it’s usually Alastor who’s the jerk

[allastoredeer]

Know of any Radioapple fics where Lucifer starts out as the jerk/dick in the relationship?

Unfortunately, I don’t have any radioapple fics where Lucifer starts out as the jerk 😔 which is a huge fucking shame.

I did recently go through the Hazbin tag on AO3 and saved a TON of fics that caught my eye, so maybe one of those will have it. I’ll keep you posted 👉👉

Not to self-promote but my radioapple series “Just Kiss Already” kind of starts out with Lucifer being a jerk in the beginning. It’s intermingled with him slowly developing feelings for Alastor and feeling obligated to help him for helping Charlie, but his bitchy side REALLY shows itself in the fourth installment “Chaggie’s Totally Legitimate Dating 101 Crash Course.”

I enjoy Lucifer and Alastor being mean to each other, but part of Lucifer’s character arc is going to focus on his aversion to sinners and how he thinks of them (in light of his growing feels gs to Alastor, a sinner who definitely earned his place in Hell) so he’s still going to have a lot jerky moments.

[alastorss]

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Alastor's antlers are embarrassingly, pathetically, unbearably sensitive.

He can't for the life of him figure out why—it's not like any of the other transfigured creatures wandering around the underworld were made this way. Most other animal-like sinners don't seem to care about or even acknowledge their characteristics.

Yet here he is, purposefully hiding them away just so that no one will discover his terrible weakness. Oh, what he would give to be like the others if only to ignore their incessantly uncomfortable presence on his head.

Perhaps it was a curse from heaven that made him this way, or karma that he was repaying from his life. Either way, he can't stand being touched.

At least, that's what he thought.

There's no malicious intent behind your hands, no glint in your eye that makes the primal instincts in his head scream at him to melt into the shadows. You're as gentle as can be, fingers running delicately along the intricacies of his antlers and stopping just at the ends of them.

"They're beautiful," you whisper with your eyes blown wide. Your shoulders rise and fall with each rapid breath, probably from the adrenaline of standing so close to an Overlord like this. And Alastor, no less.

Your reliable hotelier. Your first real friend in the hotel. The one whose smile cannot be trusted.

But for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that he's looking at you with pure, genuine appreciation even if his smile is a little wonky.

"Why, thank you, darling!"

He jerks away from you quick as the wind, standing tall once again and towering over you. His expression has morphed into something more strained—you can tell by the way his face creases up as his eyes narrow.

He was the one who decided to invade your personal space while the two of you were arguing. He just didn't think that you would be so bold as to get distracted by his antlers and have the gall to reach out to touch them.

The worst part? The absolute worst part of it all is that no one in all the time he's been in Hell has been gentle with him like that.

Add that to the list of things he despises. Or likes. You're confusing him now.

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You have some nerve, he thinks.

Your hands have found a new home resting atop his head, with your fingers combing through his hair and tracing up and down the curve of his antlers.

It becomes a nightly routine—him on the barstool or sitting in front of the piano and you standing behind him with your fingers tangled in his hair and your chin on his head, perched right between the horns. Others in the hotel have started to raise a brow, but you don't seem to care.

So when you finally decide to break routine, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, his eye twitches.

There isn't even an audience tonight, everyone else already tucked into bed save for Husk behind the bar who's too busy with a bottle to care. The silence between you is heavy as lead.

"Is something the matter?" Alastor finally abruptly asks, eyes narrowed at you from the side. You shift uncomfortably.

"Why would something be the matter?"

He's not in the mood for games right now. "This is the first time you've sat away from me in months," he observes.

You look at him, surprised by his hostility over this. "Well, Lucifer told me that you don't like—"

"Lucifer," he interrupts, head now whipping to the side so he can fully glare at you. "Knows nothing."

You blink at him, stunned. With the way he's acting, he almost seems... annoyed that you've decided to stop being so handsy?

Silence overcomes you again as you just stare at each other, completely at a loss of words. Alastor finally realizes his snappiness and composes himself once more, exhaling through his teeth.

His smile softens at you, missing its usual edge. You know him like this the best—head in your lap and antlers exposed. It's familiar to you in a way that it could never be to anyone else. At least, you hope that's true.

"He knows nothing," the radio demon says one more time for good measure, eyes drifting shut under the weight of your hands.

Alastor has never liked to be touched before. But maybe there is a first time for everything, and maybe the safety of your touch brings him enough ease that you're the first he admits he can tolerate.

His smile says it all. He's content like this, even if he would deny it with his chest if you ever told anyone else.

"Okay," you breathe. "I believe you."

[dewdropdinosaur]

My Kink is Karma

Alastor x Reader (Third Person POV) Summary: Alastor lost a bet...horribly so. So imagine his surprise when his partner cashes in their prize on New Year's Eve...in the form of a vibrating plug. Warnings: Plug using, blow jobs, pet names in a sexual context, sadomasochistic tendencies, use of restraints, sub/dom dynamics (SUB Alastor), etc. MDNI, 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption. 2,675 words Requested by many people and thanks to @kewpikayo and @castawayinhxll for helping me brainstorm!

The grand ballroom of the Hazbin Hotel glittered with anticipation. Black and gold streamers wove around tall marble columns, and the tables sparkled with elegant centerpieces of painted roses and flickering candles. At the podium, Charlie hummed nervously as she adjusted a ribbon on the microphone stand.  

“Vaggie, do you think it’s too much? Maybe the black tablecloths make it too...sad?” she fretted, twisting a strand of blonde hair around her finger.  

Vaggie, perched on a ladder as she pinned a gold banner reading "New Year, New Redemption" above the stage, rolled her eyes. “It looks perfect, Charlie. Relax. This is going to blow everyone away.”  

Charlie bit her lip, her gaze flicking to her phone. “I still haven’t heard from Alastor or Y/N. They’re never late, especially not Alastor. What if—”  

“They’ll be here,” Vaggie interrupted, stepping down from the ladder. She placed a reassuring hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “It’s Alastor. You know how he is. Punctuality is practically his religion.”  

Charlie nodded but couldn’t shake the unease. As Vaggie moved to adjust a crooked candle, the heavy creak of a trolley drew their attention.  

“Alright, booze delivery,” Husk grumbled, pushing a cart laden with bottles of champagne, whiskey, and other spirits. His wings twitched as he glared at the banner. “Y’know, this feels like a lotta work for demons who probably can’t even remember what year it is.”  

Charlie laughed nervously. “It’s about the gesture, Husk! A new year is a new chance at redemption!”  

Husk snorted, cracking open a bottle of gin. “Sure. Whatever you say, Princess.”  

Just as the final touches were in place, the grand double doors of the ballroom swung open. All heads turned as Alastor and Y/N entered, their silhouettes sharp against the warm glow of the room.  

“Ah, finally!” Charlie exclaimed, her face lighting up with relief. She waved them over, but her smile faltered slightly as she noticed something... off.  

Alastor, ever the picture of poise, seemed unusually stiff, his crimson eyes darting nervously around the room. His usual grin was tight, less a sign of amusement and more a strained facade.

Beside him, Y/N exuded an air of smug satisfaction, their eyes sparkling with a secret they weren’t planning to share.  

“Sorry for the delay,” Y/N said smoothly, hands stuffed in their pockets and voice carrying just the right amount of mischief to not seem odd. “We ran into a… distraction.”  

Alastor’s head snapped toward them, his grin twitching dangerously. “Quite the unexpected one,” he added, his tone clipped. His eyes flickered to Y/N, his partner of a few years, with a less-than-hidden disdain.

Charlie blinked but shrugged off the odd tension. “Well, you’re here now! That’s what matters!”  

From his perch at the bar, Husk caught Alastor’s eye. He raised his glass slightly, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. Alastor glared at him momentarily, but the faintest flush betrayed his annoyance.  

As the evening went on, the ballroom buzzed with laughter and music. Yet, Husk couldn’t help but chuckle into his drink, his sharp eyes catching every subtle glance and twitch between the two latecomers.  

It was obvious to anyone who had ever done it: the stiff posture, the jerks at the dinner table, eyes fighting not to roll back. Alastor was in something…or more accurately, something was in Alastor. Husk had overheard the debate a few days ago, nothing major, he was so pissed drunk he was shocked he had remembered. 

“For one moment, could you please not pester everything I do?”

“Why my dear, I do believe you love my company. You were certainly agreeable the other–”

“Alastor, I don’t think you could go one minute without a quippy comment. In fact, I bet you can’t.”

Alastor’s eyes had glowed in disdain at the comment, extending a green threaded hand to his lover. 

“Very well, cher. If I can’t go one minute without a comment, you may do anything you wish to me for the New Year. But only one thing.”

Oh, how pride hath gone before the fall. Now Alastor stands, rather awkwardly, facing his punishment. Y/N placed their hands on the lapels of Alastor’s coat, making a motion of adjusting the fabric in a seemingly domestic display. Leaning closer, they whispered softly

“What's the matter, Al? You seem a bit stiff this evening…why not go and greet the others? I’m not going anywhere…”

‘And neither is that remote in my pocket, nor your plug…’

“I am simply stepping back a bit, cher. Let Ms. Morningstar handle the affair.”

“You're supposed to be acting normal. That was our agreement. You wouldn’t be the one to go against a deal, would you?”

As if to single-handedly further his demise, Charlie waved Alastor over. 

“Go on, honey. It looks like Princess Morningstar needs you.” With one last pat on the jacket and a wink, Y/N left Alastor to his more than pleasurable misery. 

It was no shock to anyone that Alastor was a masochist, everyone could see how he reveled in the pain of those he deemed his subordinate. However, it might shock one to learn that the Radio Demon was also a sadomasochist. Rarely seen but stewing under the surface, the need for pain and pleasure was a dangerous cocktail that Alastor had found himself addicted to. Especially when administered by the hands of his partner. 

But this? This was torture. Here he is, talking to the princess and a group of other sinners; his mind a puddle of desire. Positively doing his utmost to keep his composure, a jolt moves through him when he feels the ever-present toy, that dastardly thing, buzzing. Emitting sweet, torturous pleasure at a time when he was supposed to be working. He was on duty. 

It had been simple enough at first. He had lost the bet, rather unfortunately, but didn’t fear too much. Y/N was always kind and gentle with him, a mean streak sure, but amicable in all their squabbles. Little would he have guessed that a silver plug with the red ruby heart would stuff him so full he was almost babbling before they even came to the party. Small vibrations from a damn remote in his lover’s pockets were not how he thought his reputation would be tarnished, nor his secret be revealed. Alastor did not pray in life, nor much in death, though he conceded to one small one now. 

Fortunately, Alastor found a natural pause in his speech and seized the opportunity to take a breath, probably for a moment longer than was needed. He cared not. What Y/N was doing to him was unnatural. Horrid. Absolutely divine.

He wanted them to do it again. And again and again…

Why did he wish for this?! Why did he wish for them? Why did he wish for the sweet destruction and ecstasy, Y/N promised? They had him begging, eating from the palm of their hand  How disgraceful. 

It continues like this the entire evening. When he is giving his speech on the Hotel’s progress, the vibrations from behind him catch the mic if only for a second. He blames it on technological malfunctions. At dinner, he jolts and almost spills his drink. He blames it on the liquor. And when Angel gave him a knowing look, Alastor could only blame his flushed cheeks on his tight clothing. Alastor would not find out till three days later that Angel had…provided the very plug that was now the source of his predicament. The spider demon never let him live it down, though did agree after much threatening to keep it between them….Angel told Husk four days later. 

Finally, the night had come to a close. All the guests had left, save for those who lived in the Hotel, and the decorations were being put up. With a pleading glance and a desperate look, Alastor found himself walking back to his partner’s room with Y/N. 

“You were so good for me tonight, baby–” Opening the door to the room, Y/N placed their hand on the small of Alastor’s back and guided them to the bed with a sultry look. “Let me reward you, mhmm?”

Slamming their lips to his, Alastor returned the kiss with just as much fervor if not more. Hours of teasing had left him hard beyond compare and in desperate need of release. He felt as if could blow any second, the vibrations building him up only to slow down as he needed them most. While the thought of having cum earlier was enticing, he was grateful his partner had not allowed him to stain his pants. More than they already were with pre-cum at least. 

“Just you wait, my deer…I will make you pay for that little stunt you pulled–”

“Oh you are welcome to try, Allie.” 

Turning up the vibrator once more, Alastor’s knees practically gave out beneath him. His lanky form crumbled backward as Y/N placed him on the bed. The black silk sheets were strangely comforting in their coolness but did little to quell the burning heat inside him. Y/N continued to kiss him furiously, lips wandering their way down occasionally to leave soft nips at Alastor’s jugular. 

“Stop…your fruitless teasing–”

“Aww, are you riled up, Alastor? Patience, honey, you will get what you want soon. I just wanna enjoy you first.”

Stepping away quickly, Y/N got up and went over to their dresser; leaving Alastor to whine in disapproval at the loss of attention. Returning, a red ribbon glinted in the pale moonlight streaming in from the window. Bringing their hands to Alastor’s wrist, Y/N softly but snuggly tied the material. 

“I will not be contained my dear, I can break out of these anytime you know.”

“Of course, you could baby. Let’s see you try–” 

Resuming their previous course of action, Y/N continued to trail kisses down Alastor’s neck. Following the path his body laid out, treasuring every inch of covered or uncovered skin. Worshiping him as if he had hung Heaven himself, set the stars in motion, and could only whine this pretty just for them. The plug still vibrated inside him, albeit a touch slower and less intense than before. A false hope for the Radio Demon, until Y/N’s kisses came to the belt on his pants, and their hands made light work of removing the fabric from his body. 

A red lacey garter belt was the first thing that caught Y/N’s eyes, the straps connecting to a beautiful thin piece of fabric, if one could call it that, that remained the only thing in their way to reach Alastor’s weeping and throbbing dick. Giving it a quick snap, only for Alastor to yelp out in a quick moan of pleasure, the lace was quickly removed. 

“You look so beautiful for me, Allie. All dolled up, was it for me? You sweet boy…”

“Yes, cher—fuck all for you.”

Bringing their lips to softly peck at the tip, Alastor’s hands gripped the sheets, squirming at the stimulation. Y/N’s lips continued to suck as their tongue swiped over the large head of his member, enjoying the taste of the salty liquid that kept weeping from the tip despite its abuse. Finally, opening their mouth, Y/N took all of him in one swallow. Hollowing their cheeks, taking him till his balls slapped their face with each wretched buck of Alastpr’s hips into the warm and inviting concave of their mouth. 

Relief washed over Alastor in that moment, a sweet and sickening relief that truly wasn’t one at all. Quickly brought to the edge of overstimulation, quiet tears pooled in the corner of his eyes. Daring to fall and admit his weakness, but in this moment, he found himself caring little. The only thing his mind focused on was the constant internal cries, desperate to cum. Allow his partner to milk him dry till he has nothing left to give and then keep going, to have his body bruised with their lips and hands only for him to see and hide in the morning. To feel the rush of adrenaline that paired with the shame of every sweet whispered praise from Y/N’s mouth and to treasure it in his black soul forever. 

Y/n could tell he was close, the way his cock twitched in their mouth or the way his moans become less breathy; more of incoherent babble was always a tale-tell sign. Raising a hand, soft fingertips coming to fondle his balls, Y/N added to the stimulation of their partner. 

He was always beautiful, but like this, he was ethereal. His hair pulled taught in a ponytail, the wisps sticking to his head from perspiration. Lips parted, just begging to be kissed, the magical vessel that produced the sinfully wonderful sounds Y/N so cherished. His hands came to rest in their hair, giving soft tugs and scrapes with every passing second of a much-needed and rising orgasm. He was perfect. 

It all was perfect, the tight band in his stomach snapping and waves of pleasure rushing down on him like a crescendo. Hot cum spurt from his abused tip into Y/N’s mouth, greedily slurping and swallowing for all he was worth. So enraptured in the after-glow, little did Alastor notice that he had cum so much, small hot trails of liquid gold spilled out of the corners of his partner’s eager lips. Burning tears flooded Alastor’s senses, small hiccups erupting from his swollen lips. 

After a moment, Y/N removed their mouth and hands, having swallowed all of their just desserts. Slowly rising, stepping forward to untie the ribbon restraints and remove the vibrator, Y/N’s hands moved with meticulous grace and ease. 

“There you go, my love. That’s it, you did so well for me.” 

Grabbing a small wet towelette from their drawer, pre-prepared, Y/N began the process of cleaning Alastor up. Humming softly and whispering sweet-nothings. How good the sounds he made were, how beautiful he was. Alastor could’ve sworn there was a different, much softer emotion that found residence in their eyes. Was it possibly love? Did they love him? 

Is that why they put him through this sweet torture? To show their affection?

Another shutter startled the poor deer demon back to reality as Y/N gently smoothed their thumb and hands over his ears and played with his hair. The towelette coming as well to dab off the remaining sweat and tears. 

“Ya know…next time I need to get you a bow to wear on your tail.

“Absolutely not…and what do you mean next time?”

“Come on, Al.. with the noises you made, you’ll be begging me to make sweet love to you again soon. It's just a fact.” A muted chuckle was stifled though joyful, Y/N’s eyes shining and peering down at Alastor’s. 

“And…how would you know this?’

“I just know you.”

Y/N paused and continued to stare down at their lover. He was so…there were no words. In all the blackness of the room, his eyes shone out the brightest. If Heaven lost all its light and wonder, only Alastor’s eyes would be able to light the world back on fire. 

“... What���s the matter, cher?”

“N-nothing…Just…you got pretty eyes. It's hard not to get lost in ‘em…”

Another pause. 

“Would you like a shower, Al?” 

Y/N didn’t receive a reply as Alastor fell asleep in their arms. In their bed, instead. Only notified by his current state due to the soft bleating snore-like noises softly coming from him. 

Y/N swept a few stray hairs from his face, placing a kiss on his forehead and snuggling closer to him. Closing their eyes and allowing the temptation of sleep to embrace their mind. They smiled, a small but pleasant grin appearing on their face as they felt his warm breath hit their face; slight static in his sweet snores turning the sound into a faint, fatigued melody…

[ohdeerfully]

Requests? I got you 😌

Reader who made a deal with Alastor, be his informant, and he'll provide aid when needed. And reader was damn good at holding up their end of the deal, while Alastor hasn't really needed to uphold his since aid hasn't been asked for.

So what might happen when his dear little informant hasn't came back from gathering info on the Vee's?

EATING IT UP idk i love this kind of stuff thank you so much. im making this a two-parter! it was getting kinda long and i wanted to get something posted (:

Your Half of the Deal (i)

Alastor x Reader part i part ii part iiiTW: kidnapping, cursing, alastor is manipulative (per usual), alastor is in denial if you want to be tagged in the next part, let me know! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Deals with Alastor were, for a lack of better words, a big deal. Not something to mess around with. His twisted nature allowed him to create so many loopholes for himself, forcing one to do more than what they bargained him for. It was unfair, but that’s what happens when you make a deal with the Radio Demon.

You weren’t as lucky as the other demons at the hotel, not receiving the typical advice Vaggie debriefed any newcomer. Alastor got to you first. He got you soon after you fell into Hell, before you even knew exactly what was going on or the whole ‘soul’ thing. 

“My,” A light voice cooed from the shadows, causing you to jerk your head up. Your ass still stung from the tumble you took after falling down into god knows where. You were curled up in a dark, moldy corner, a brief respite from all the freaks that you kept running into. Your fingers–no, claws?--still aches after defending yourself from a pair of spiked thugs.

“What a poor sight. How dreadful!” He continued. You could barely make out the form of the speaker. You just knew he was tall. With blazing red eyes. His voice had a radio-like filter over it, with a general low frequency humming around himself during the silence.

He had seen you, a new fallen demon, fight yourself away from those two earlier, a wild look in your eye. How it pleased him, seeing that look somebody gets when they are desperate for their life. But you, in particular, piqued his interest. To be able to acclimate to a new body, in a new place, and fight for your life at the drop of your hat.

You seemed capable, and he liked that. He knew you were naive, fresh meat always was. And he liked that.

You had yet to speak, only looking up at him from your fetal position. But he could tell you were tense and ready to spring, if need be. He played a grin on his face and leaned down closer to you.

“Oh, how rude of me! I’m Alastor,” He held his hand out to you from his bent over position. You shook his hand cautiously. “I saw that scuffle earlier, and dear if I may say, you fight like a wild tigress.” 

You quirked your brow at this comment. “Thanks,” You replied plainly. “(Y/N).” You didn’t want to talk right now. But, you were at least glad to see a face that didn’t immediately go through your throat. 

Alastor, of course, didn’t go after those of the ‘fairer means,’ as he would put it. At least, not in a violent way. He was all for the typical manipulation.

“Even still, a fair lady such as yourself needs someone to protect her! And,” He stood up straight again, a dangerous glint in your eye. “For a price, I could be at your beck and call.”

“A price..?” You responded weakly. You had to admit, seeing this tall, confident man in front of you did seem to put you at ease. He seemed kind. And it wouldn’t hurt to have some help, if there were more creatures wanting to attack you.

“Your soul!” He said, all too cheerfully. Your mouth dried up at this. With everything that has happened to you so far, you had a hunch that the term ‘soul’ actually carried meaning in this place. But, how much..? Was it worth the protection he promised?

“More like a mutual contract, really! Mutual benefactors!” Alastor lied, seeing that hesitance in your expression. “I get your soul, you do what I ask, and I protect you! Simple enough.” 

The expression he held, with that tall grin of his, didn’t do much to calm your nerves. As chipper as he seemed, there was something to it. Something more, but you couldn’t quite tell.

“Deal?”

His glowing eyes seemed to darken as he squinted them in anticipation, his smile somehow growing wider. The static in the air seemed to crackle with more energy, almost violently, as you considered his hand that he had held out. There was an ominous aura that made your skin crawl.

Ah, what the hell. Flashes of those thugs from earlier was enough to put you on your feet. You could only imagine the other shit that lived in this place, and had a feeling they were the bottom of the barrel. You had only just managed to get away from them.

You made eye contact for a couple of seconds, the prickling sensation on your skin becoming harsher and more aggravating the closer you stepped to him. You grabbed his hand.

You were thinking about your unlucky situation–which you often did in your free time–as you gave yourself a onceover in the mirror, black eyes examining your tight outfit. A little spy getup–a little stereotypical, something you would definitely see in the movies. But, hey, it never failed you.

Thinking back, you could tell now that his words and smile were filled with deceit and manipulation. You often got pissed at yourself for how naive you were. You hadn’t even called on him once since then, and you’ve been stuck as his little pet for nearly four months now. He runs you around like a doll in a big playhouse, sending you this way and that to get intellect from his various enemies.

“I’m much too popular to be roaming in those areas!” He had claimed when you questioned why he, the Radio Demon, couldn’t just do it himself. “Demons flee at the sight of me. The Vee’s would see me from a mile away.” You had a suspicion that he just didn’t want to be seen in public making such a petty fuss over his television rival.

There was no point in dwelling on it, but you couldn’t help the occasional feeling of regret that twinged your chest when you thought too long. You were stuck as his, whether you liked it or not. 

Slicking back your hair, you finalized your sleek outfit. Another day of being thrown into precarious situations by that red asshole. It was becoming a weekly thing, with Alastor requesting more and more information, especially from those Vee’s he hated so much. In fact, now that you thought about it, they were the only demons you snuck by. How obsessed they were with each other.

It was no easy task, getting through the security of that place. In fact, it was nearly impossible, seemingly getting harder every time. You had a cautious feeling that they knew what you were up to, and kept falling short of catching or stopping you. There were cameras pointed in every direction, every angle, in the highest quality imaginable. Every trip left your heart racing with adrenaline.

“On your way now, are you?” Alastor asked coyly. He waited for you at the entrance to the hotel, a glint in his eyes. Oh, how he loved playing with you like this. Watching you bend and break for him. He loved it. And you hated him for it.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll get killed this time,” You said snidely, referencing the increasing danger of each trip. “Wouldn’t that be a treat for me.” You said this in a whisper, but Alastor still heard.

He bent at the waist to be eye level with you, that sinister grin of his lowering slightly. It seemed he had wanted to say something, his teeth parting for a moment before closing again. His grin perked back up and he straightened himself into a stand. He simply reached out and patted your head.

“Now, don’t go out with that kind of mindset! Why, you know our deal!” His lips curled in reference to the rather one-sided promise you made each other. To be honest, considering you never had to call for Alastor’s aid, you weren’t even comforted by the notion. Who’s to say he even shows up? How will he even know if you need help?

Alastor stepped towards you, his hands flapping as he shooed you out of the door. “The night is only so long! Go along!”

So, now you’re here. Tucked behind a corner near the Vee’s residence. There were cameras everywhere, obviously, and you swore you saw more than last time. What point does Alastor even have, making you come here so often? What more could he want? You knew him and Vox were rivals, but it wasn’t like Alastor didn’t know how to take care of the TV-head.

You had a sick feeling that Alastor just enjoyed making you do bullshit for him like this, and didn’t care much for the actual information. The thought drew a sneer on your face. If you weren’t literally soul bound to this guy, you would probably just let yourself get caught and likely killed on the spot. But, of course, your deal made that dream impossible. 

With a couple hops on your toes, you began your brisk walk towards the back of the manor. You were hyper aware of all the cameras, and hoped that your dark outfit helped blend with the shadows. 

However, the second you lifted a window and stepped foot into the building, lights flashed and an alarm rang. Fuck.

The television demon himself got to you surprisingly fast. As if he had been waiting. Which, honestly, wouldn’t have surprised you. You briefly wondered why it took them so long to have an alarm system in the first place, and began frantically looking for a way out. The window behind you had shut and locked. The hallway was incredibly narrow and Vox stood in the way.

Fuck it, you made a mad dash for the Overlord, hoping to catch him off guard. You raised a clawed hand and swiped at his television head. A pointless attack, you realize, as the screen nearly flickered for a moment; his wide, pixelated grin staring into you. Before you could move again, his arm tightly gripped at your throat. You felt an electrifying sensation, stinging through every nerve, and blacked out.

“Heyy, Al?” Charlie’s voice rang through the doorway of Alastor’s radio tower. “Have you seen (Y/N)..? She was supposed to help with some decorations.” She had opened the door without warning.

He paced back and forth in thought, gripping the top of his cane with one hand and tapping the end of it in his other. He didn’t respond to Charlie, but the question did ring in his head over and over. You hadn’t come back from the night before. You always came back before the day broke.

He didn’t know the feeling that stirred in his chest as he watched the minutes pass by. The hours pass by. All without a sight of you. He never thought to keep watch as you worked, refraining from sending his shadow to spy on the spy, as he always saw you as capable enough. 

Besides, he thought to himself. What a waste of my time that would be. Fretting over a single demon.

“Alastor,” Charlie said again. He craned his neck to her, stopping his train of thought. His grin had a strain to it and his nose wrinkled in aggravation. Why was she in his space? He hated intrusions.

“What?” He said bluntly.

“(Y/N)?” She spoke your name again, hoping to prompt some conversation out of the Radio demon with the implied question.

Alastor composed himself, acting unphased by the… worry? That he felt. “Why would I know where she is? I take care of this hotel, but not so much the residents.” It was a true enough statement, as he preferred just watching the demons Charlie try desperately to rehabilitate and fail miserably every day. 

“Now, if you don’t mind,” He interrupted Charlie before she could say anything, her mouth hanging open and words dying on her tongue. He briskly turned on his feet and walked towards her, standing at the doorway. “I would prefer you knock next time.” He shut the door on her.

He couldn’t handle the heavy feeling that threatened his lungs as he thought about what was happening at the Vee’s residence. 

Did he really care to go out, risk a scene, risk the intel, just to get you? To make sure you were okay?

Yeah. He had to. He hated that feeling in his chest, especially as it just grew heavier and more overwhelming. He just chalked it up to the deal he had made with you putting a pressure on his own soul to hurry up and deal with it. But he couldn’t help the tightness that consumed him when he thought about what you were doing in that place. Or what they were doing to you. He brushed the emotion aside, trying his best to ignore it.

He argued with himself that yeah, he was only going because of that deal he had made. No, no way did he have a soft spot for you. No way in Hell. He was just doing this to hold up his deal. Yeah.

With a heavy sigh and a twitch at the corners of his lips, he brushed his talon-like fingers through the fringe of his hair, pushing it back before letting it fall into place again. He tried to maintain a leisurely composure, but a wild glint in his eye was proof enough that he was stressed out.

Best to get this over with. He had a deal to uphold. He opted for the faster route, melting into his shadow.

part ii part iii

[redvexillum]

Alastor: My dear, a little advice for you!

Y/N: I didn't ask for any. Plus I thought you don't do advice.

Alastor: Yes, well, last time I wasn't particularly interested in your little affairs.

Y/N: Jerk.

Alastor: Anyways, I've got a delightful assortment of "advice" just for you! It's only fitting for someone as charming as me to impart some wisdom with those who might need a little guidance.

Y/N: [You read between the lines and note how he was struggling to keep his ears from completely flattening. His grin seems to be more forced than usual] Alastor, if you want someone to talk to, you can just say so-

Alastor: My first piece of advice: there's something terribly wrong and unruly with the most recent interlopers that's been wandering past these doors! I almost forgot how lowly these sinners...

Alastor doesn't mean to go off on a rant, but once he starts, the words spill out like an avalanche of irritation. He vehemently snarls from the flood of new hotel guests pretending to seek redemption while clearly freeloading off of the princess' hospitality. Though, he will never admit that he was slightly..."peeved" to say the least when you have been "too busy" to entertain him as you were helping the princess with the influx of guests.

There isn't a trace of judgment in your eyes, not a flicker of annoyance at his tirade. You just listen, really listen, and that alone makes something in him feel a tad lighter.

Alastor will never admit that you bring comfort to him. He will never admit that maybe, just maybe, you're more than just an audience to his whims and theatrics. Perhaps, in his own twisted way, you're something closer to a friend...?

But, that is something he cannot entertain at this moment.

It is something he cannot admit to himself at this time.

Alastor: ...and don't get me started on that insufferable little girl spouting gibberish at me every time I'm in her line of sight! Eugh.

Y/N: Alastor! Maybe this is the perfect time to put our lessons into practice!

Alastor: ...

Y/N: Communi-

Alastor: MURDER.

Y/N: Alastor, NO-! [Alastor melts into the shadows and in less than five seconds you hear screams and walls being destroyed]

Follow Vexi's Alastor Being a Lil Shit for all the latest updates!

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile III

<-Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, well, this chapter is pure fluff. I really liked how it ended up. Please, enjoy it.

“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.

You’ve been waiting for five minutes and you weren’t known for being a patient person. You were having a sleepover at Marie’s house after weeks of begging, from you at least. When your mothers said yes, you couldn’t be more ecstatic and even Alastor seemed happier than usual. He did ask you to come with a pretty dress because he had a new game he wanted to play with you. It was unusual but exciting ! 

So here you were, waiting in your pretty dress, your hair perfectly done, and a frown on your face. How long were you going to wait for him? You were ready to knock once again on his door but it jerked open before you could touch it. And there was your friend, his hair slicked back, his glasses on and his usual smile on his lips. You kissed him on both cheeks before he tugged you inside his bedroom.

“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he showed you his desk with paper spread on it, and.. was it a microphone ? You tilted your head as he forced you to sit down on one side of the bureau. He took the microphone, and spoke.

“ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You looked at his beaming smile and understood what he wanted from you. You smiled as you spoke into the microphone.

“ Thank you Alastor, I’m very pleased and proud to be here, with the best radio host in the world!” you declared, trying to sound ladylike. You grinned at him as you saw his smile sketch at your words.  He gave you some paper with doodles and notes that you began to read the fattest you could as he kept talking.

“ Would you like to talk about something, Miss ?” asked Alastor as he watched you read the notes he gave you. You nodded as you spoke into the microphone, Alastor holding it for you.

“ Well, yes. Last week, at school, a girl mocked my voice, saying I sounded like a dying pig!” You ignored Alastor’s sniggeer as you kept playing your role, reading the topic you were suppose to talk about. 

“ How dreadful ! How could she say something like this?”

“ Right ?” , you decided to go off script, putting the notes down “ but you should have heard her screams when I pushed her into a puddle of mud. Now, who is the pig?” you hid your smile behind your hand like a proper lady as Alastor’s laughter roared in his bedroom, his head tilted back. You giggled as he calmed himself down, holding the microphone to his lips.

“ Oh dear, you sure know how to put up a fight!” He looked down at his notes still giggling.” I did have something similar happening to me: a boy , talking badly about my mother.”

“ What?! How dare he ? I hope you put him in his place !” you shouted, feeling anger circling inside your body. Wait, was it for real or was it part of the show?

“ Indeedy I did, dear. I punched the poor fool, but it seemed like I hit too hard and he went crying somewhere and I was unfairly punished. This is why, my dear, our sleepover was delayed to this day!” he smiled as your mouth was wide open. You applauded him as he beamed with pride.

“ You did well, Mister Alastor!”

You kept doing your broadcast with Alastor, going off script when you wanted to talk about something that happened and he wasn’t there with you. Sometimes you would just shut your mouth and listen to him telling stories, real or not. You could listen to him all afternoon but he always insisted that you participate in the debate or the stories he created. He sometimes teased you as you didn’t know what to say or you couldn’t understand what he meant but you were really having a great time.

“ Oh, so she fell in love? What did you say then?”

“ That she better get up. Now dear listener, we are ready to hear your question !” he said before turning his head toward his door as Marie came inside with food and drinks. “ Oh well, here is the best cook in all of New Orleans, please come Moth- Madame! A round of applause for our new guest!” he said as he stood up, gesturing to his mother to come closer.

Marie laughed as she sat next to you, putting the tray on the desk, minding the notes all over it. You applauded with a big smile as Marie bowed her head. 

“ It’s a pleasure to be here!”

~~~

It truly seemed like Marie was having the time of her life as she was holding her belly, laughing loudly.

“ No Mister Alastor! Sweets are the best food you could ever eat if you weren’t so picky with what  you ate!” you shouted, slamming your fist on the table.

“ Are you saying that my mother’s food is not the best, you brat?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed but still with his cunning smiling face.

“ I’ve never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth !”

“ That’s what I get for inviting a singer.”

“ Hey !”

Marie applauded before wiping her tears from her eyes. She kissed you both on the forehead before saying she had things to do but she hoped she would be invited once more for another broadcast.

You watched as she left the bedroom before turning your attention to Alastor who was writing notes on papers. You tilted your head before clapping your hands together as you remembered what you wanted to say to Alastor before he made you wait in front of his door.

“ I found a name for our cat!”

“ Our cat?”

“ The one who always hisses at you, yes. Let’s call him… Hissker!”

“ … Well, ladies and gentlemen, we will be back, for now, please enjoy this music I choose for you!” He turned on his radio so you could be lulled by the music. He laid his microphone on the table and sighed as he raised an eyebrow to you. “ Hissker ? I guess it’s because he is always hissing toward me but.. It doesn’t really sound right.”

“ Well.. Hiss.. Hiss…” you tried to find a good name that would satisfy Alastor. “ What about Husker ?” you asked and smiled when you saw Alastor nod. “ It was a very funny game, I hope we will play it again!”

Alastar grinned as he shook his head. “ It is not over yet, we haven't gone through all the notes yet. And you need to sing at the end of the broadcast, aren’t you the best singer in Louisiana ?” he taunted you with a smirk. “ Plus, we have the listener’s question to answer!” He stood up and went to take letters and put them in front of you. You took one and opened it.

“ What is your favorite color ?” you read before tilting your head, looking at Alastor. “ You want to know my favorite color?” He shook his head, claiming that it was the audience’s question, not his ! You smiled, feeling warm inside, it was not everyday that Alastor was curious about you like this, but you didn’t dare to tease him about it. 

“ Welcome back dear listeners ! Our singer here is ready to answer all of your questions !” he took the letters and began to read its content to you. You answer all the questions with sincerity and joy. “ If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”

“ Flying !” you giggled.

“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?” he stared at you, the letter hiding the bottom of his face you could only see his eyes. You took the microphone from his hand, he surprisingly let you, and with a big smile you shouted.

“ He is the best !”

Your smile widened as Alastar laughed at your answer, clapping into his hands. You felt warm seeing him so happy. You gave him back his microphone but he shook his head and tugged you toward the living room, where a beautiful piano was waiting for you. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know how to play the piano and he knew that so why…

“ Dear listeners, it’s almost time to say au revoir but before that let’s listen to our beautiful singer here.” he sat on the bench before the piano and began to play a melody. You blushed as you held on the microphone, feeling shy. You looked at Alastor who was watching you, with a big grin before closing his eyes. You took a big breath as you recognized the melody that he played. It was one of your favorite songs… 

You began to sing shyly, waiting for Alastor to laugh at you but he was keeping his eyes closed, moving with the rhythm of the piano’s keys. You closed your eyes as you held the microphone near your mouth, beginning to feel freer and freer. You smiled as you began to dance in the living room, your dress twirling around you. You jumped, moving your head with the rhythm singing like nobody was watching. You were having so much fun, you felt exthrilled, you didn’t care if you were being too loud, if you didn't hit all the right notes.  You opened your eyes and fell into Alastor’s gaze. 

He was staring at you with a big smile, still playing the piano perfectly with a little bit of sweat near his forehead. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, some curly locks of hair were falling in front of his face. You thought you would feel embarrassed that he was watching you being a dumb happy girl but you just smiled at him, dancing and singing. After a while, even Marie came and you danced with her, as you sang and Alastor kept playing.

It was perfect.

You finished your song, out of breath. Marie applauded you with a big grin as Alastor put his arms around your shoulder and crushed you against his chest. He took back his microphone, thanking his audience as you were looking at him. You remember him being a tad smaller than you, but now… Did he get taller? He forced you to bow before saying goodbye. 

“ It was an amazing performance ! Both of you, you can be proud of you. As a thank you, I have prepared Alastor’s favorite food: jambalaya ! “ She clapped her hands together. You tilted your head, you’ve never eaten this food but from Alastor’s face, you couldn’t wait to taste it.

~~~ 

“ You can sleep with me sweetie, my husband will not come home tonight.” said Marie as you shook your head, holding your plushie against your chest in your nightgown.

“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile. Alastor was behind you, waiting for his mother's permission to stay a little longer awake than usual.  She sighed but at your pleading eyes she accepted your request. You squealed with happiness before running into Alastor's bedroom and jumping on his bed. He came after you, looking at your plushie with a puzzled expression.

“ What is it ?”

“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.” you smiled as you explained that when you were five, you fell down a lake and because you have never learned how to swim, you were drowning but a deer came toward you and bent down his head so you could grab his antlers ! “ My parents said that it was a tree branch that fell down the lake but I’m sure it was a deer !” you pouted, sad that you parents never trust your story. Even if you couldn’t really remember well this story, you knew what you had seen. 

“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”

“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?” 

Alastor stared at you and then the plushie.

“ How can he protect you?”

You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” You looked at him as he squeezed it, closing his eyes. 

You stared at Alastor. You remembered the bruises on his belly that you saw last month. You knew that fathers could be brutal with their son, to man them up as your friends used to say. Maybe Alastor was the same? You loved your plushie, you really did… But maybe, Alastor needed it more than you? You looked at the boy's expression, his eyes closed, his smile hiding in the plushie’s fur, he seemed so relaxed. You nodded, accepting your own decision, until Alastor was safe, you were going to give him your plushie.

“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?” you smiled at him, Alastor opening his eyes slowly, staring back at you. You gulped, maybe it was his show, you were just a guest. You opened your mouth to apologize but Alastor beat you to it.

“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”

Without being aware, you both laid down on the bed, Alastor still hugging your plushie. You kept talking even as the sun wasn’t in the sky anymore. You yawned for the third time in the last thirty seconds as you explained how to take care of Mister Deer.

“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, no trace of fatigue on his face. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow. It smelled like him. You didn’t know why you liked that fact.

“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.” 

“ … So, do I need to hug you?”

You stared at him, his eyes shining with the moon light. A hug from Alastor ? You looked away, blushing but you didn’t know why.

“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”

You felt him move and you flinched as he covered your eyes with his hand. You waited for him to answer but you were so tired and now that you were englushed into the darkness with his hand on your eyes you couldn’t help but fall asleep before your could hear his answer. 

~~~ 

Marie walked up the stairs, it was 11pm and it was time for the kids to go to bed. She opened the door to Alastor’s bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the sweet scene in front of her. Alastor was hugging you with a deer plushie being squished between the two of you. She walked toward the bed and covered the both of you. Well, she couldn’t wait to tell that to your mother! She left the bedroom, closed the door quietly and went to bed.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega

Ps: By the way, my deers, do you have an idea for the plushie's name ? I'm open to ideas.

[selenezq]

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

At the encouragement of my lovely friends, my first smutty fic is here. It's a song fic and I hope you like it. Edited and Beta Read by @hurthermore and @the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes

Alastor x Reader

Reader is AFAB

CW tentacle fucking, dom Alastor

Aphrodite

"I don't wanna be loved, I just wanna get fucked. I don't wanna get hurt, I just wanna get some"

Your sweet melodic voice echos in the opulent bathroom as you sing.

"So use your hands to touch my body, use your words to say you want me."

You continue singing along as you brush your long voluminous hair; your painted fingernails absentmindedly drumming on the marble sink counter. You were sensually swaying your hips along to the beat. Your lithe body moves with the ease and grace of someone who thought no one was watching.

"I don't wanna be loved, I just wanna be filling a hole in my bed" you continue singing, trying your best to be quiet. You certainly didn't want the other occupants of the hotel to hear you.

"I don't wanna get drunk just to go home alone when the night ends," your usually clear voice becoming a little emotional at the words you are singing. Your hips still swaying enchantingly to the beat. Despite your best efforts to keep the others from hearing you sing, you had caught the attention of someone in the hotel.

You didn't notice him watching you from the shadows, his gaze following your every move. The way your hands slid down your beautiful body as you shimmied around to the music made him feel things he never thought he would. Which in turn made him angry. He couldn't understand why he found himself so drawn to you. His eyes flared red with anger despite the usual smile that remained on his face.

"You've got a body and you're like me, on my knees I'm Aphrodite," he watched you sing from the shadows absolutely entranced by your voice.

"Call me dirty, say it nicely just don't ever call me wifey," you sang with a lovely shake of your plump ass. The flimsy piece of cloth you called a nightgown rode up, exposing the luminous skin of your upper thigh to him. He briefly considered palming himself from the shadows.

Disgusted and enraged at the thoughts you had inspired in him he chose this moment to detach from the shadows, becoming corporeal. You suddenly let out a delectable squeak of fear as you noticed Alastor suddenly join you from your view in the large mirror that ran the length of the wall.

Before you could even fully turn around he had materialized the chain that bound your soul to him. The green glow lit up the bathroom eerily. With a tug of the chain Alastor had you stumbling to your knees. Your soft skin hit the cold tile harshly and you felt a moment of pain.

"You startled me," you murmer softly; your wide eyes looking up at him through thick lashes. From this position he had an unobstructed view of your ample cleavage.

"This is how you waste your time?" Alastor spits derisively. His anger feels palpable, dangerous even. Unsure of what you've done to anger the radio demon your lip quivers a little.

"I didn't mean to disturb you or anyone," you quickly say; The apology falling from your lips sincerely.

"I think you wanted me to hear you sing this filth pet," he says his voice sounding dark and staticky. He can't help the longing he feels for you seeing you here on your knees in supplication for him.

He starts to wind the long chain that is attached to the glowing collar on your neck. The clinking of the chains that bound you to to him reverberates in the bathroom. You are dragged slowly, inch by inch, until you are right at his feet. He threads his sharp claws in your hair and jerks your head up to look at him. You feel fear course through you, laced with arousal. You clench your thighs together in an attempt to hide it.

"You have no idea what you do to me do you," he utters, his voice harsh. He bends sharply at the waist bringing his face quickly down to yours. You feel his breath hot on your face. Gazing up into his glowing red eyes, you see the madness that lays there. You should feel more afraid but instead you can feel your panties getting wetter by the second.

"No I dont?" You whisper unsure of what Alastor will say. You had noticed the way he had been behaving strangely to you lately. Leaving the room anytime you walked in. You weren't sure just what you had done to upset the powerful overload but you knew being on the receiving end of his wrath was not a place you wanted to stay.

"You," Alastor hissed angrily tightening his grip on your hair; hair he noticed felt silky smooth against his hand. "Have been driving me absolutely wild. Making me feel out of control and have thoughts I've never had before," he finished his voiced laced with vitriol.

Pain mixed with pleasure for you. You tried your best to clench your thighs together in an attempt to ignore the growing arousal making your pussy slick. You head was held at a harsh angle as you gazed up at Alastor. "I'm sorry,"these words fell from your lips in an attempt to placate his anger.

"The things I want to do to you Pet," Alastor uttered removing his hand from your hair in an attempt to gain control over himself. You continue looking up, unwilling to break the eye contact.

"Then do them," you dare him bravely.

As soon as the words leave your mouth it's like the dam to his self control was broken. He roughly yanks you up off the floor. You're barely on your feet before he's using his shadows to pull you into the ground. Inky black tendrils wrap around you as your world falls out from under you.

Before you can even register the pitch black void you've been sucked into you find yourself standing in a room you've never seen before. Bones line the walls, and you notice an entire pocket dimension bayou. This must be Alastors room. As quickly as you arrived you find yourself being pushed roughly down onto a bed.

You fall on your back with a thud. Before you can even register how soft the sheets underneath you are a cold tentacle pulls you down so your legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. Alastor looms over you, his grin wide and sinister as he gazes down at you.

"Be careful what you wish for; Not many desire to see what I'm capable of, darling." Alastor said his voice laced with promise. With his words multiple tendrils of shadow burst up perilously from the ground, coiling around your arms and legs until you can't move at all. His smile widens into something more predatory and all together sinister.

Stalking around the bed until he's standing close enough to trail his claw down your cheek, his sharp tips just barely pressed into your soft skin. Turning your face so your gaze met his, he lets out a triumphant hiss of static. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Alastor growls menacingly.

He takes a moment to admire your form, bound, helpless, and vulnerable before him. He licks his lips in anticipation. With but a shift of his will, he has another tentacle sliding across your leg, and up your skirt. The cold feeling of his shadow appendage on your warm, flushed skin shocks you into arching your back as best you can. With a harsh tug, the tentacle pulls the flimsy piece of fabric, covering you to the side. Your already slick cunt being exposed to the cool air causes a breathy gasp to pull itself from your throat.

"What a delight it is to see you so utterly helpless and at my mercy." Alastor asserts. His tentacle finding your clit and rubbing soft, teasing, circles. "I've thought about this more often than I should." he confesses. His gaze takes over your form as you look entirely debauched tied up with his tentacle massaging your most sensitive part. You try your best to hold back the breathy moan vying to escape.

Abruptly and quickly he's leaning down close enough that you can feel his breath fanning out over your face. "Don't you dare hold back the sounds of the pleasure only I can give you, pet" he hisses angrily.

"Yes sir, I won't." you whimper softly.

"Good girl." he says giving your head a condescending pat.

Without warning a second tentacle plunges into your warm, wet, pussy. You cry out in ecstasy, head falling back against the pillow.

"You're so beautiful for me like this," Alastor says, fervently reaching out a claw to stoke your cheek. A gentle contrast to the tentacles intense pulsating movements. They squelch loudly in and out of your drenched cunt with renewed vigor as your cries of pleasure get louder. Each new thrust has you clamouring Alastors praises. The appendage at your clit circling at a brisk pace.

"Ah ah Alastor!" you exclaim, pitch rising with each continued movement in your cunt.

"You'll have to try harder than that with your words if you want something princess." He remarks, gazing down at you with manic glee. The outline of his massive cock was hard, almost strained against the fabric of his pants.

"P-p-please Alastor, I need to cum, I want to cum." you beg shamelessly as you start to feel your sweet release creeping up.

"Since you've asked so prettily and politely I don't see why not. You may cum now, pet." He commands authoritatively.

With his words something in you finally snaps, euphoria crashing over you in waves. The tentacles wrapped around your body hold you down as your orgasm wracks through your body with intense pleasure. The ones inside of you still not ceasing, fucking in and out of you through your entire climax. The sounds of your wanton chanting of his name as you finish, echoing around his room.

Only after your body has gone limp does he release you and recall his shadowy magic back. He steps close and smooths some hair back from your debauched, glowing face. "You were such a good girl, taking it so well." he coos at you with admiration. "You may rest here until you recover." He says matter of factly. Stepping away from you he straightens his tie, and smooths any non existent wrinkles from his suit. You mentally note how unfair it is that you look so thoroughly ravished while he remains composed.

"Now if you'll excuse me dear, I've got some business to attend to." he says walking to the door. Taking one long, last look at your panting form. The look of bliss on your face as your chest moves up and down while you pant for breath. And without so much as a goodbye, he opens the door and exits the room leaving you dazed, and spent.

The song this fic was based on.

[kinopio-writes]

Request: A one-shot with Vox and a Fem!Reader who is an Overlord that deemed a less high position but kept being her chaotic neutral self nonetheless. She and the Vees were playing a game and she won in the worst way possible. (tried to remember all the things @matrixbearer2024 told me so, uh, sorry if this wasn’t what you meant)

A/N: I accidentally posted this completely unfinished and deleted it as soon as possible so I lost the request. Vox is one of the harder characters to write because most of the time he’s on screen, he’s shitting on Alastor. Hopefully he gets more developed in season 2. I used his controlled and controlling characteristics a lot here.

Um, this turned out neither platonic nor romantic. I was focused on establishing their dynamic here, so this might turn into a series. Enjoy! I liked how the story turned out to be (although the pacing might be rough).

Words: 1,569 (edited)

Warnings: Valentino (he’s not acting like how he does around Angel, mostly because Vel’s your friend and you’re not a worker in his studio)

———

Vox x Fem Overlord!Reader who had taken the backseat

The doors to his office slid open, allowing the bright light from the other room to pour into his TV-adorned space. The light blocked him from seeing the other side of the screens, and the suit-clad demon sitting on his swivel chair jerked back from whatever he was paying close attention to, bringing him back to reality.

“Um, Sir?” A nasally voice piped up from the light.

His boss quietly groaned in irritation, not bothering to turn around to look at him. “What is it?”

“We have a problem.” Of course, there was. Ever since that old prick suddenly came back, things have been not going well for him. Well, it was mostly because he let that piece of shit get to him. “We’ve been receiving numerous complaints about our new voyeur scopes.”

Vox merely waved a dismissive hand, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. “That happens all the time. If the protests persist, get someone to start on a new draft.”

His assistant left right after, and as Vox heard the doors close, he let out a heavy sigh, deciding to change the setting of his screens to watch over his district.

“Let’s see what the fuss is all about, shall we?”

•••

You had smashed another one of the flying drones.

You’d been doing that for quite a while, settling that as your first order in business after letting someone take over your district for you, granting you more freedom. There wasn’t much thought in the decision. You had just grown tired of being a leader and gaining more power. You liked being laid-back, but it wasn’t as if you’d settle on the retirement (after)life. Now that would be just plain boring.

VoxTek Enterprises was a brand you were familiar with. Not as a customer, but as a friend to someone who was close to the man behind the title: Vox.

You didn’t have anything against the guy—Vox was a charming fellow when you first met him. When he approached you, you were happy to disclose any questions he had, although you noticed that his left eye started to swirl as you spoke. It went back to normal quickly, however, so you went back to your usual talking pace. He ended the conversation briefly after that, and you were approached by more overlords during that event. (heavily edited this paragraph)

Now, you were hanging out with two of the three Vees. Velvette immediately invited you to chat about your new position after she heard while Valentino was lying on the other couch beside yours, on his phone.

She pried for an answer as to why you’d done what you did. When you gave her the direct answer of simply getting tired of it, she changed the topic to new fashion trends. You agreed to be her temporary model for her newest drafts, and Val piped in if you wanted a photo shoot for a magazine for an entirely different cause. Vel swatted his head away, rejecting his offer for you.

When the chatter had slowed down to silence, you explored around the spacious room as the others scrolled through their phone. You managed to find a video game that was unsurprisingly made by VoxTek. It was quite an old product, but it looked interesting enough, so you called out to the other overlords in the room if they wanted to play. They agreed.

•••

Vox’s eye twitched, snarling as he watched you get all buddy-buddy with Valentino and Velvette. And playing his game, no less? The fucking disrespect!

Initially, Vox liked you the moment he laid his eyes on you. That was one of the reasons why he made conversation with you, even if he had non-amicable intentions. You also had been gaining more power at the time and the other stronger overlords noticed, including him. He speculated on your potential to grow more influential and wanted to be acquainted with you for future use. However, you were instantly on his watchlist when he realized he couldn’t hypnotize you.

During the conversation you two had, he managed to get you to tell him how you got into your position, which didn’t even need much prying. You didn’t like business and politics, you hated forethought, and you didn’t even know there was such a thing as a hierarchy in Hell—you thought everyone just did their thing and be their worst, which was just fucking stupid.

You were reckless, an oversharer, unprofessional, passive, and unpredictable. In other words, you were an uncontrollable freak who had too much power. He didn’t understand how you were still alive.

Vox felt threatened when you made friends with Velvette before she even joined the Vees. He knew he couldn’t convince her to stop being in contact with you, so every time you two hung out, he would watch you two closely from his monitors. So far, he managed to keep you as far away from him as possible.

Until now. You were literally in the same building he was in. You were closer to him than you’ve been in years.

Velvette’s voicemail echoed throughout his office. She wasn’t answering any of his calls.

He cursed out loud. What a pain. It seemed he had to deal with you himself.

•••

“Val! What the fuck are you doing in last place?”

You three were playing Mario Kart (Wii), or at least, the rip-off version of it. It was still pretty decent, though. You all decided that doing all thirty-two races would be a fun way to pass the time until the Vees had to do their separate things.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know? The buttons don’t do shit!”

“Use the rocket (Bullet Bill), shithead! Press the arrow key!”

“What the fuck is an arrow key—! Oh, there we go. I’m in second place! Ha! Eat shit, Princess Bitch!”

“Valentino! You blind ass, you’re blocking the screen!”

“I’m winning!”

“Taking my first place, you fucking won’t!”

You ignored their bickering and used two out of your three red shells to hit Rosalina and Toadette, a shit-eating grin on your face as you won first place.

A series of shouts and yells followed right after.

“Wait, what the fuck!”

“Who did that!”

“I did.” The two Vees turned their heads from the screen to see you comfortably lying upside down on the couch, legs hanging on the headrest.

Velvette’s shoulders relaxed. Valentino, on the other hand, flipped…the table. The TV was disconnected from its wires.

“What the—Valentino!” Velvette watched him stomp his way out of the room. “Valentino, where are you going? You better not be thinking about—…”

Velvette’s words fell silent as they both got farther from the room.

You placed the remote on the couch and finally sat upright, examining the space around you as chaos erupted from downstairs. It didn’t seem like they were coming back soon.

Hmm. Now you had the room all to yourself.

•••

You were busy rearranging the snacks and mixing their places into different cupboards when the double doors burst off their hinges and harshly hit the wall. You snapped your head to the entrance to catch a glimpse of a TV head before the doors closed back on themselves.

You snorted, going back to messing with Valentino’s stuff.

A moment of silence passed, and you stopped snooping around to check if Vox was still there, leaning down as you opened one of the two doors slightly. You saw his hands form into fists in front of you, and you immediately stood back to your height with a grin.

“The man himself!” You took a step away and opened both doors entirely, lifting your arms as a gesture of welcome even though he owned the place, and that irked him. “You know, Val and Vel and I played a game. You should’ve joined—”

“I know.”

“Oh, then the two are downstairs causing chaos.” You skipped over to the couch and sat on the headrest, falling back on the seat as you kicked your legs. “Usually that would be my thing, but—”

“I know.”

“And sorry for breaking those drones of yours. It was just—” you curled in yourself as you grabbed at your hands, “—in front of me, y’know—?”

“I know.”

“Wow, you know a lot.” He didn’t know if you meant that sarcastically or not. And that alone pissed him off further. “I’m assuming you also know that I stopped being an overlord?” You heard static in his direction.

“You…stopped being an overlord? No one just…stops being one.”

“Ooh, worded that wrong, huh?” You lifted your upper half to see the TV head still standing in the same spot. “I’m still technically one, I suppose, but I’m more, like, second in command? I’m just letting someone take over for me. The overlord life was too restricting, y’know?”

No, he didn’t know.

“Anyway, good talk.” You raised your legs and pushed them forward to stand up, making your way over to him. “I think I had an appointment with the guy who’s taking over. Thank Vel and Val for letting me hang out here. Actually, maybe go apologize to Val for me; I rearranged his cupboards.”

You patted his shoulder as you walked past. “See you soon, Vox!”

The man in question had his mouth slightly parted, his eyes still glued inside the room.

Shit. He was going to see you a lot often now, wasn’t he?

Fuck his life.

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 2

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies you also die. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

Part 2 summary: Escape is futile

Part Pilot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And the winner is Python!"

I turned my head from the bloody sight. I had brutally murdered an innocent fighter like myself. But I had to do it. It was my only chance out of here and they were far too mentally gone to even have a chance at a normal life.

I pushed myself up on one foot and limped to the gate. The crowd above roared my fighter name and bets were being collected. My master picked me up and looked down at my injured foot. Usually a head collar was strapped on to keep me from using magic against him, but he had recently gotten more comfortable without it.

I flicked my wrist behind his back. The sweat from my forehead jumped off and sliced through his throat. He dropped me and fell, clutching his throat. I scrambled to my feet and bolted around the cages containing my brothers and sisters in fighting. I ran past the unknowing guard at the gate and into the crowd.

I could taste the sweet taste of freedom beyond those fences. All I had to do was hide in the woods until dawn. It was easy. The crowd didn't know what was happening and people often tried to run out on a poor bet. No one would interfere.

Except one.

Rope wrapped around my throat and snapped my head backwards. The force slammed my back into the cold ground. I coughed violently as I pulled the rope loose. Spit fell out of my lips as I looked up. Standing on the other end of the rope was Striker, a Full mage who liked to terrify others with his illusionist demonic appearance.

He pulled on the rope and it tightened again. I slipped my hand under it and tried to dig my chin between my neck and it. He pulled even tighter, rougher, and pulled me forward, forcing me to fall on my stomach. I sent wind and dirt but he casted a shield of around himself.

I looked to the side and pretended to lift something. His glance was all I needed. I leaned forward and pulled the rope over my head. I barely made two steps before something caught my foot. I tried to pull that one off but the ropes kept coming. My neck, my shoulder, my wrist, and my knee. I flailed and threw every magic I could at his ropes. Yet it did nothing. A Slight hand was no match for a Full mage.

Henchmen appeared and pulled the ropes in different directions. It was mere seconds to have me completely immobile on the cold ground. Striker stepped inches from my face before kneeling down and grabbing my chin. He lifted the rope around my neck at the same time, painfully contorting my neck in what felt like a 90 degree angle.

"Looks like you're mine now, sweetheart," he purred, "'til the day you die." He let go of my head and my face slammed down into the pavement.

I jerked my head up from the pillow with a yelp. I found myself in an old, dusty room with sunlight streaming in from the window. I sat up and examined every inch of the room. How the hell did I get here?

I tried to think past the nightmare but was met with a mental block. Who's house was this? Why am I here? When did I change into a white gown? Who's bed is this?

I put my feet on the cold carpet and padded over to the window. I looked out at a wide open sea and a sheer cliff-face. That's when it connected. I had evaded the worse fighter master for five years and landed right in the claws of the Radio Demon.

A light knock came at the door. I dove into the corner and put my hand up, ready to cast at a moment's notice. But the person who entered wasn't the Radio Demon, but a different one. He resembled a combination of a cat and bird, his entire body covered in gray and white fur and his wings a gorgeous bright red. He had a black top hat sitting between his ears.

"You're awake," he said, "Good. Your clothes are in the wardrobe. Alastor wants to speak with you before he leaves so hurry up." He shut the door.

My neck hairs bristled at being told what to do. I didn't waste five years of freedom to be told what to do again solely because my soul happened to be bound to the worse Full mage of the century.

Yet there was nothing I could do.

I opened the wardrobe to find old dresses that looked like they were from the 1930s. Maybe the 40s or 50s? They were old, that much was obvious. Not my style, either.

Now he's dressing me.

I swallowed hard and picked a long skirt and button down. I locked myself in the bathroom, grateful that it had a lock, and quickly dressed. The sink had a bowl of water in it which told me this old house didn't have working pipes.

I gently splashed my eyes with the ice cold water to wake myself up. I found an old brush in one of the drawers and brushed out my messy hair. It had taken nearly three years to really understand how to take care of this hair. I had grown it out after escaping the rings to make myself more unnoticeable.

I let out a sigh. I closed my eyes and took a moment to ready myself for the next encounter with the mage. He couldn't kill me. He would kill himself in the process. If he tried to keep my in a cage like the others a little self harm should do the trick. I had options. I could handle this. I had handled worse. Right?

Outside the room wasn't much better off. The floorboards caved under my weight and spewed dust up in my face. I sneezed a few times on my way down, careful not to touch anything in case it disintegrated upon contact.

The staircase to the foyer was tight and narrow. I could clearly see the deep purple and dark brown accents of the house now. It didn't exactly look pretty. Though I couldn't imagine much thought was put into any part of this old house.

I turned at the last step to find my soulmate standing by the cold fire. He seemed to be looking at something before he spun to face me. His eyes looked me from head to toe and back again. My fingers tightened into a fist subconsciously.

"Mm, it'll do." I bristled at the comment but he crossed the living room in seconds to stand in front of me. I took a step back. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

"Come sit, I have much to tell you before I leave." He stepped to the side and gestured to the room. His other hand was behind his back holding his cane; the cane that made me feel like I was always being watched with the creepy little eye on it.

I looked up at his red eyes before forcing myself to walk into the room and sit on one of the hideous old chairs. He sat on the other one on the opposite side of the fireplace and crossed his legs elegantly. I crossed my ankles and put my hands in my lap. I hated dresses but I had watched enough women and explored the internet enough to know how to sit 'properly'. He seemed like the type to correct me on manners.

"I'll make this simple since I have places to be," he started, "My rules are very simple. Rule number one, you're not to leave the premises. You have until the tree-line before you're considered off this property. Rule number two, you can go anywhere in the house except for my room and office. They're beside each other on the second floor. Don't worry, they're locked so you can't mistake them for another room." His eyes narrowed a tad. "Rule number three, don't bother me. You can do anything you like, request nearly anything from Husker, but do not disturb me."

"May I ask a question?" I ventured. My head was tilted down a little and my eyes glared up at him.

"Yes you may." He laid his cane on his lap.

"If you want nothing to do with me, why the hell are you keeping me here?"

"Silly girl," he chuckled, "I told you last night. I need not worry about my soulmate dying in wasteful ring fights. If you die, I die. Not to mention, if people discovered we were connected you would undoubtedly find yourself against very powerful mages that could kill you in half a second." I gritted my teeth, unsure of how to respond. "And as I said last night, you should be grateful that I'm providing you with a safe haven."

"A safe haven that's about to collapse?" I remarked, looking around at the dusty boards and picking at the old ratted chair.

"Well," he laughed, "if you're bored you could always fix up the place."

"Can't you do that with your oh-so-powerful magic?"

"I have more important things to use my magic on. Besides, your Slight magic should be enough to fix up the things you need." I was about to argue when he abruptly stood up. "Well, I must be going now. I do hope I won't have to remind you of my rules. They are rather simple and easy to follow. Good day." He didn't bother to use the door, disappearing into the shadows and melting into the floor.

I stared at where he had disappeared for a long moment. My eyes then trailed around the room, examining its every inch. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Boards creaked and I looked over to see Husker appearing from the hallway. "I'm sorry to hear that you have a shitty soulmate," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"I never believed in soulmates, really." I stood up to walk over to him. We looked roughly the same height until I got closer and discovered to be a few inches taller. "Is there a reason why you're...here? With him?"

"I'm under Alastor's service for an extended period of time," he answered, turning back down the hallway. I followed him through the narrow entryway and came to an old kitchen. "He told me I'm to fulfill most of your requests."

"Why do you listen to him?"

"For my own reasons," he growled, "I'm not about to let you run off, if that's what you're trying to get at. He can't kill you but he can kill me, and he will if I let you run off."

"Right." I quietly left the room to explore the rest of the house. Next to the kitchen was the dinning room. It was full of random old furniture that looked like someone had dumped the insides of a victorian home here. It circled back to the staircase and sitting room. On the other side of the sitting room was a library study. The books looked like they were nests for spiders, moths, and bookworms.

Upstairs had another sitting room but was mostly filled with old bedrooms and bathrooms. I quickly discovered which rooms belonged to Alastor. Directly across from 'my' bedroom were two locked doors side by side. So long as he came and went at early or late hours of the day, I could avoid him easy.

Escaping shouldn't be hard, though. A pang of guilt went through me as I thought of Husker having to deal with the repercussions. He was obviously a Full mage if he could conjure up a demonic illusion like that. Though what for while he was here, I'm not sure. Perhaps a scare tactic. I shook the thought from my head. I had killed people with my bare hands on the concept of "Me or them". This would be no different.

"Say," I found Husker drinking something in the kitchen, "could we fix the pipes so we can have running water?"

Husker shrugged. "Sure. You want to help?" The side glance his black eyes made me want to incline.

"Sure."

Outside had a cool, ocean breeze crossing the field. I instantly found the tree line Alastor spoke of. The first challenge of escaping would be crossing the field. There was nothing to hide behind or use for a shield. I had to buy time to cross the field and take shelter in the dense trees.

Husker went to the side of the house where an old well stood a few paces from it. He put his hands on the ground and seemed to search through the earth. A moment later he snapped his black eyes open and looked up at me.

"Clean out the well and dig further down until you reach water." He said as he pointed to the stoned circle. I stood on the side that put it between me and Husker. I had heard too many tales of people losing their life to a deep well.

Husker fixed the pipes underground and through the house while I fixed the source. I knew my next request to him was to allow me more clothes that fit my style. And more pants. I kept quiet until the brown water turned into pristine, clear running water from all the faucets.

I dried my hands on my dress in the kitchen and asked, "How did you know I had magic?"

"Alastor told me."

"Right."

"I've also seen you in the fight rings before."

"You what?" I bristled.

"Relax," he grabbed the same bottle from the counter, "I wasn't a master or anything. I was running the bets and gambling." That didn't make me feel any better. How could he just let them keep those fights going? His appearance gave me my answer.

So I changed the subject. "How would you suggest I ask you for different clothes? These aren't exactly right for me." I looked down at the elongated skirt.

He let out a sigh and pulled out a phone. My heart quickened. "Find what you're looking for and screenshot what you want. Then tell me your size."

"You know, that's not exactly how sizes for women work," I tried. "One size in one store could be very different than another."

"Then pick one store and tell me what sizes," he replied. My heart dropped and I took the phone from him.

****

I gave myself a week before my first escape attempt. I had to know Alastor's schedule and Husker's routine. I also need to ensure they weren't bracing for my first attempt. A week should be long enough, surely.

Alastor left in the mornings before or right at dawn and returned at some point well after dusk. Husker preferred to be in the living room or on the outside porch drinking alcohol. I guessed that he had some kind of magic that kept the effects of alcohol to a minimum so he could still keep an eye on me. I made it a habit to join him on the porch most of the time, reading the one book I could think of off the top of my head for him to get.

Alastor had made two more rules since my arrival. Well, one official rule and one implicit. The explicit one was no unsupervised internet access. No phone, no computer, nothing. I had no connection to the outside world.

The implicit rule was my clothing style. Any 'modern' clothing that was even close to being considered immodest disappeared from my wardrobe the next day. This meant he was keeping a close eye on me despite his rules to keep as much distance between the two of us as possible. I had to be careful. I didn't know what type of magic he was using and if he could see me at any point.

But I was ready.

It was a blue evening, the setting sun hidden behind a raincloud. The rain hadn't quite reached us yet but the strong gusts were moving the clouds closer and closer. As much as I didn't want to escape on a rainy night, it was the best chance I had. Muddy conditions and rain made it difficult to see and operate in. For most people. Most likely for Full mages who were used to having everything handed to them on a plate thanks to their power.

Husker had just finished another one of his whiskey bottles and went inside for another. I whispered an apology as the door closed and I stood up from my chair. I used my magic to push against the wood from underneath so they didn't creak. I jumped the stairs and as soon as my feet hit the grass I ran.

I pushed wind against my back to help carry me across the field. My heart pounded in my ears as I reached the tree line and disappeared behind the closest large tree. I sank to the ground and peaked around the tree. I didn't see Husker yet.

I turned and ran further into the forest. The wind from the storm made it easy to maneuver through the dense forest. I had no idea where the closest town or city was but I needed to put as much distance between me and the house as possible.

There was no notion of time as I kept running. My legs burned and chest hurt but I didn't dare stop until I could barely stand. I pushed through the pain and veered off to the side, hoping they would search in the other direction. The rain had started and trees bent against the strong winds, pushing back as best they could. I took this as my cue to find a hiding spot until the storm cleared up.

I picked one of the trees and started pulling up the dirt and roots. I would dig myself a little burrow and wait out the storm. The wind pulled aggressively on my clothes and hair. It felt incredibly strong for a storm and it made my blood run cold. I frantically looked around in search of the bright red of Alastor's coat or Husker's wings. This wasn't natural wind. This was from magic. They were searching for me.

The trees practically uprooted themselves as the wind pushed against them, opening the forest floor to the sky for a moment. I briefly saw Husker's red wings in the sky before the trees cut my line of sight. I dove to the side before the trees opened again. I felt like a field mouse running from a coyote in the field grass.

Husker dropped through the canopy and locked eyes with me. He curled his claws inward and the tree branches reached for me. I pushed against them with wind and snaked through their reaches. I stayed as close to the ground as I possibly could. I needed someplace to defend, somewhere that he couldn't reach me. The forest was proving to be a horrible idea.

Wind and fire were my best friends as I evaded and burned the branches that grabbed at me. Husker went back to the skies and attempted to create a wall with the trees. A branch caught my foot and dragged me towards its trunk. I opened the earth near it and pulled its roots up. I used the storm and pushed the tree all the way down. I jumped into the ditch and pulled the roots back over me, partially covering me from the sky. Husker flapped overhead, arms crossed.

I dug into the earth and filled it up behind me. The further down I went the farther I was from the reach of the trees. Several times he tried to catch me with the roots but he couldn't see me anymore. I had broken his line of sight. That's how you defeat a Full mage, I realized. If the mage couldn't see you, then they didn't know what they were doing.

I picked a random direction and started tunneling again. I didn't get far, though, as I realized my great fault. I had filled most of the earth behind me and it cut off my airway. It was freezing this far down and I was lacking oxygen. I was suffocating. I was already sweating and exhausted but not I was truly fighting for my life.

Praying that they were digging after me in the original spot, I start tunneling back up. Going up was far easier than going down but I was already exhausted, physically, mentally, and magically. I had to take several stops, struggling to breathe.

After what felt like an hour, I reached tree roots. I grabbed hold of one and used the last of my magic strength to pull myself through the dirt. I clambered through the dirt and sucked in the fresh air. I frantically looked around, half expecting Husker to jump on me from behind. But he was nowhere in sight. The light rain had turned into a downpour but the tree I was under gave me enough shelter from it.

I looked around for several moment before collapsing against the trunk. I took deep breaths of the sweet fresh air and let the rain drops patter on my face. Had I done it? Were they digging after me or looking elsewhere for my tunnel exit? It didn't matter. I just needed a few minutes to recover.

"Well done."

My breathing caught in my throat. I looked up to see Alastor leaning against the tree staring down at me. His smile was still plastered on his face and the sarcasm was heavy. I scrambled to my feet and backed away from him.

"I must say I'm impressed that you managed to evade Husker but I'm sorely disappointed that you can't follow simple instructions." He was leaning forward enough this he was at my eye level and creeping towards me.

“I'm disappointed you thought I would just stay put like a pet," I returned with heavy breathing. I was so tired. I didn't know if I had the energy to run from him.

He chuckled at my retort. "I knew you would attempt to run. You watched my schedule. You knew I wouldn't be back until later. I know exactly how your mind works."

“Do you, now?" Using my peripherals, I willed the roots from the nearest tree to uproot and wrap around his legs, making sure not to touch him yet. "Then you'll know that a cornered animal fights back until they die." I snapped the roots tightly around him. He looked down and I ran. I was so tired but desperation kept my blood boiling in all my fights.

I used the strong wind and rode it into the sky. I threw myself as high as I could and looked around. It was nothing but trees. No town, no city, no house, absolutely no sign of humanity. I was in the middle of nowhere.

I dropped into the trees and hide among the branches, eyes desperately scanning the ground. I leaned back to sit on my heels but the strength in my arm had disappeared. I lost my grip on the branch and fell backwards, hitting branches on my way down.

I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.

"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."

"Fuck you."

His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."

"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.

He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."

[justaticklishdeer]

Unconventional Methods

lots of inspo from @hype-blue-fixation

this took forever to write, give feedback! (I personally don't think this turned out too well.)

Tw/CW: Restraints, Fluff, Teasing (a ton,) tickles, gets intense in spots.

word count: 1.5k

Vox and Alastor. Rivals, enemies, whatever you call them. They were busy fighting, as usual. Alastor had antagonized the TV Overlord yet again, and now they were in the lobby of the hotel – thank God everyone else was out for the day. Besides, the gang would hate to see the mess they had made… 

‘Fucking–hold still!’ Vox snarls, jumping forward at Alastor who easily steps to the side. 

‘Hmm, I’d prefer not to. I’m not getting taken down by some picture show–’ Alastor yelps as Vox grabs him. He struggled and hissed as the TV demon ties his arms above his head. 

‘You forget I know your weaknesses, Alastor.’

‘You know nothing about me. You barely know me! You’ve been obsessed with me since day one!’ Alastor snorts, glaring at him defiantly from his restrained position. 

‘Where shall we start? Perhaps..here?’ Vox places a blue tipped claw on Alastor's palm, tracing small circles. He had completely ignored the defiant jab. Alastor’s body jerks back and he whimpers out a giggly protest. 

‘There you go, pretty boy. Trust us. Or perhaps, myself. You know you can. You want to.’ 

Alastor whines again, squeezing his eyes shut as Vox continues. Vox smirks. ‘What's wrong, ticklish little fawn? Can’t handle my claws all over your palm? Perhaps I could move them. Have them slide up this pretty forearm, up near your underarm…then, sliding down your ribs while you whine at me. Then we could tease those sides of yours, oh, yes. Sliding my claws up and down your sides while you whine and try to curl into a sickeningly sweet ball of fluffy ticklishness. Then slide down to your tummy and tease there. I could go on for hours, Alastor. Hours. How does that sound?’ 

A helpless whine was all he got. ‘Aww, is someone a ticklish little fawn? Yes you are! Come on and tell me all about it,’ Vox hums, claws tracing slowly down his forearm. Slow. Teasing. Torturous. ‘Vohox. Vohohox, plehease..’ he whines, trying to flinch back from the tickles. His restraints held fast. Vox held him still. Alastor whimpered again, a giggly mess. ‘Shh, you can take more than that. I’ve done more than this. Come on. You can do it,’ Vox croons, reaching his other hand up to gently and teasingly stroking up and down the feathery-soft edges of Alastor’s ears. The deer whines loudly, trying to shake his head. ‘Ah, ah, ah. No. Stay. Oh, good boy! Look at you, taking the tickles so well.’

Alastor whines, trying to arch away from the soft dragging of Vox’s claws. He felt Vox get close to his underarm, and he gasps and arches. ‘Nuh uh, don’t shy away! It’s alright, just stay…oh, look at you. Such a helpless fawn, ensnared in my trap.’ Vox continued to trace lighty around the area, whiney giggles and breathy sighs joining the mix. ‘Vohox, plehease..move alohohong…’

‘I don’t think I will,’ Vox hums. The deer whines and flinches, body trembling. ‘Good job, Al, you’re doing amazing for me.’ 

Alastor nods, desperate as he squirms in his restraints. Vox was sitting on his legs to make it so escape was essentially impossible. ‘I–oho! Mm-!’ Alastor cuts himself off as Vox reaches his upper rib cage. ‘Oh, so here’s a bad spot, hm? Should we…count them?’ he teases, pressing slightly harder. Alastor frantically shakes his head. Quite the deer in the headlights. ‘Plehease–plehehase–Vohohox plehease—’ 

‘Ah, ah, shh…I’m not even nearly getting started. Calm yourself, little fawn.’ The TV demon slowly traces claws down Alastor’s ribs, eliciting a small squeak and twitch every time he hits a bad spot–the bad spot essentially everywhere. Alastor’s voice was shaky and giggly, no real words really making their way out of his mouth. He bleated like a fawn helplessly. Vox’s claws dragged slower, down his sides, resting on his stomach.

He uses one hand to push Alastor’s shirt up to expose his fuzzy stomach. He could hear Alastor whimper with anticipation. ‘Oh, my dear, I haven’t even started yet! You’re already squirmy and all vocal for me!’ ‘Sh-shut up!’ Alastor whines through a fit of happy giggles and whimpers. 

Vox gently scribbled around his belly, tracing a claw around his navel. Alastor’s breath hitched as he arched his back, trying to escape the torturous feeling. The television grins. ‘You’re lucky I’m not too..hungry right now, sweetie,’ Vox murmurs, continuing with the slow dragging. ‘Stahap th-that!’ Alastor snorts, trying to tug his hands out of the restraints. Vox hums softly, ignoring the plea. ‘Plehease Vox plehease plehease–’ 

‘Nuh uh, pretty boy, ticklish little fawn, adorable buck. You’d be safewording like hell if you hated it that much,’ Vox points out, tracing shapes on Alastor’s belly. He gently traces circles and little swirls all over the fur. The deer demon lurches and writhes, whining with the giddiest look on his face. He seemed to be on a whole different cloud of fluffy happiness. 

Vox smiled, continuing the slow, teasy tickles on the deer’s sensitive tummy. ‘Does that feel good? All nice and tickly for my favorite fawn?’ Alastor giggles happily, ‘m-mhm!~’

Vox moves his claws up to Alastor’s deerlike ears. Soft strokes, nothing too much. Yet, it still had the radio demon nearly crying with silent giggles and whines. Such a strong reaction. ‘Who’s a good tickle fawn?’ Vox croons. He could feel Alastor trembling. Good. Alastor could feel phantom tickles on his stomach still, making the whole thing worse. He squirms and whimpers, little breathy giggles coming out. “Just like that, good boy.”

Alastor bleats helplessly, grinning as wide as he could while arching his back. “Hmm, now the deer noises?” “Shuhut up..”

Vox moves back down to his tummy, cooing teases at him. A claw circles his belly button, and Alastor’s hooves kick as he whines. “Pretty baby, pretty tickle baby, c'mon..you can handle it,” Vox hums, continuing the awfully slow teasing movement. Alastor whines desperately.

“Words.”

“Whahat?”

“Use your words. You’re poetic.”

“It-ihit–Vohox plehease..” 

“Please what? Words.”

Alastor flushes and his ears pin as he shakes his head. “Yohou know.” “I know. I want to hear you say it,” Vox hums, claws still teasing at the spot. 

“Vohox–! Mmm! N-noho–!”

Vox’s scritching got more intense, making the deer squirm, his ears flicking as he tried to comprehend the feeling. “Fuck–fuhuhuck–Vohox i-ihit–ihit–!”

“It what, darling?” Vox chuckles.

Vox begins to trace claws on his neck, making the radio demon whine softly and smile. ‘You know, Al, you’re quite good at handling these. Or am I not doing enough?’

‘Vohox, it-it ihis plenty.’

Vox starts applying a steady tickle to the deer’s ribs. ‘Nohoho! Vohox, plehease–’

He blinks, looking Alastor right in the eyes as he continues. ‘You’d be safewording. You enjoy it, don’t you? You love how I make you feel all tickly. And happy.’ Alastor’s ears flick and flatten, and he turns his face away. Vox took the restrained position as an opportunity to tickle Alastor’s underarms–which got a desperate whine and shriek, then loud laughter. ‘Good boy!’ Vox praises, continuing to tickle him, aiming for a full on wrecking. Alastor shrieks and phrases, trying to comprehend what was happening. 

‘Vohohohox! Plehehehease–Nohohot thehehere! Ohoho shihihiht–!’ Alastor bleats in distress, his deerlike instincts coming out profoundly. His body thrashed and Vox held him still with a firm look. Alastor whined and bleated again, melting under the eye contact. He was holding back every urge to hide his face. To hide the flusteredness. To hide how much he loved this. 

‘Hold still.’ ‘I-I cahahahan’t!’

‘Yes, you can.’ 

Vox continues, and he could see Alastor’s eyes starting to glisten with tears of pure mirth. ‘Stahahap! Nohohohot the ehehehHAHAHARS!’ 

‘Yes, the ears. You know I couldn’t resist. They’re just so…fluffy, pure. Surely the radio host can handle it? Or perhaps…I could show this to all of hell? Let them know how much of a ticklish little fawn you are?’ Vox suggests, tracing claws down the feathery soft edges of his ears. He moves to Alastor’s tummy, scribbling all eight claws over the sensitive fur and skin beneath it. Alastor screams before his laughter fades to soft radio static and silence. 

‘REHEHED! ReHEhehed! SHhihiHit!’ Alastor practically screams the safeword, and Vox instantly stops. He reaches up to untie Alastor, chuckling as the radio host throws himself onto Vox with exhausted pants. He giggles occasionally in between breaths, and Vox gently rubs his shoulders to get rid of any of the phantom tickles. He offers the deer a glass of water which the former gladly accepts. 

‘You alright?’ Vox asks, amusement and fondness in his tone. Alastor nods, downing the water rather quickly. Vox notices and hums, ‘More?’ Another nod. He stands up and gently sits Alastor on the sofa. ‘Here. Stay, I’ll go grab more water.’ 

Alastor pants out, ‘Y-yohou’re evil…’

‘I’m an Overlord, darling. It’s my job. Now rest up. Can't have your hotel staff know about this, can we?’ Alastor’s cheeks redden and he shakes his head, mumbling, ‘They can’t know.’

‘Mhm. Now rest up, okay?’ Vox sighs softly, gazing down fondly at Alastor as he dozes off on him.

Perhaps…perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all.

[nostalgiclittlespace]

Request Type: Fic

Cg: Angel Dust (and others if you want to)

Babysitters: Up to you!

Little: Reader

Maybe reader regresses suddenly after the hotel is attacked (aka that involved that dang wall being broken again) and Angel Dust helps them calm down and takes care of them afterwards.

Hi, hi! Thank you for the request! I hope this delivers! This is my first time posting an agere fic, so I would appreciate feedback :)

SFW AGE REGRESSION FIC; KINK, NSFW, PROSHIP, MAP DNI

DO NOT REPOST Word count: 1222

Pairing: CG! Angel Dust x Little! Reader

Summary: After the Hazbin Hotel is attacked, you’re left feeling panicked and regressed. Good thing Angel there! (Hurt/comfort)

The Safest Place in Hell

Ah, life at the Hazbin Hotel!  What could be better?  Though the place was kind of a joke in Hell fairly empty, you had still managed to find a home there.  From the hotel’s owner, Charlie, to the elusive Radio Demon Alastor, you had friends everywhere!  

But Angel Dust was definitely your best friend.

As you skipped downstairs for breakfast, you scanned the lobby for the spider in question.  He had to work late last night (darn Valentino) but he should be home by now.  

As usual, the other hotel tenants occupied the lobby.  Nifty chased a couple bugs, Husk attended the bar.  Sir Pentious was talking with Charlie while Vaggie glared at Alastor’s smug smile.   But no sign of Angel.

It wasn’t uncommon for the arachnid to come home late though.  A turbulent work schedule combined with a horrible boss could do that.  So no need to worry!  

You hopped down the last step and waved to the others as you approached the bar.  Might as well bother Husker if Angel wasn’t around!

“Good morning, Husk!” you greeted, sliding onto a bar stool.

“Good for you maybe,” the bartender grumbled.  “Want something to eat?”

“Sure.  What do you have?”

A plate stacked high with pancakes appeared in front of you.  Husk dropped a set of silverware and placed a glass of water beside it.

“Nif made these earlier.  Made sure she saved enough for you.”

“Aw, thanks, Husk,” you grinned, already diving in.

Could life get any better?  A calm household, surrounded by friends, amazing food?  

B A N G ! ! !

You startled up, leaping a foot in the air.  Your attention was immediately stolen by the literal explosions that had overtaken the front doors.  The glass windows shattered, the doors blown off their hinges.

You shouldn’t have panicked, you knew that.  Random jerks attacking the hotel was a fairly common occurrence.  People who were just bored, who wanted to heckle Charlie’s pet project…

But between the sudden noises and threats and fire emerging from the doorway, yes, you did panic.

Ducking under your chair, you clapped your hands over your ears for cover.  Too noisy.  Too much commotion. 

Truth be told, the overstimulation hurt.  It hurt every corner of your brain as you tried to comprehend everything that was happening.

A pair of paws grabbed your arms and pulled you behind the bar, away from the fighting.  You curled into a ball, whining miserably and trying to swat them away.

“It’s okay, kid.  It’s me.  It’s Husk,” a low voice broke through your panic.  “Stay here, we’ll take care of this.”

You peaked between your fingers to see Husk extending his wings and pulling several metal-plated cards to attack the intruders.  He hopped over the countertop, rushing to meet the others in combat.  

As more screams and clatters filled the air around you, you felt your headspace becoming equally panicked.    Dust filled your lungs, generating wheezing coughs from your already shaking frame.  Cold sweat and a thunder heart threatened to break through your ribcage.  

Too much noise.  Too much movement.  Where’s Angel?

That thought alone made it worse.  Where was Angel?  Was he okay?  Was he home yet?  What if he was hurt in the crossfire?

Tears began slipping down your face, harsh hiccups following.  Where’s Angie?  Where’s Angie?  I want Angie!  

Thankfully, it seemed that God could hear your prayers, even in Hell.  The commotion slowly died down.  No more screams, no more destruction–

“And stay out, ya idiots!” a familiar, New-York-accented voice yelled.

Slowly, you perked up, your head emerging from where it had been cocooned.   Angie?

“Husk?  Husk, where’s the kid?”

“They’re behind the bar.”

 A quick shuffling towards the bar, and suddenly you were looking into Angel’s wide eyes.   He tossed his guns to the side and extended his arms towards you.    

“Angie!” you cried.

“Sweetheart!  Are you okay?”

Angel scooped you up, holding you close to his fluffy chest.  He wrapped his four arms around you, and you melted.  Goodness, he was so soft.  Between the well-kept fur covering his body and his arms to keep you secure, this was definitely the safest place in Hell.

“Scary,” you mumbled, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know, baby.  Just some old goons who don’t like the hotel is all.  They’re all gone.”

You sniffled. “I like the hotel.  ‘S nice.  Missed you.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.  I missed you too.”

Finally, the storm had passed.  The bad guys were gone, your hero was home safe.  But now…the destruction still left its wake.  The adrenaline crashed, leaving only a fragile, shaken mindset behind.

“Didn’t know where you were,” you whimpered, refusing to loosen your grip on Angel’s.

“I was just running late from work, toots.  I’m home safe, see?”  

Still, your breath hitched and the tears resumed.  It was scary!  Angie wasn’t there!  He was home now, but what about before?

You mumbled something unintelligible, scared to remove yourself from the comforts of Angel’s hold as the tears poured down your cheeks.  Angel said something too, but you could tell from his subdued tone and the addition of Husk’s voice that he was conversing with the bartender.

“Yeah, I’m going to take them upstairs.  Just give them some cooldown time.  Yeah, thanks for keeping ‘em safe.”

Next thing you knew, Angel was adjusting his grip on you and you were being carried towards the stairs.  His stride gently bounced you as he hiked to his room.  The calm hallways also eased your disgruntled mind.  Sort of.

You didn’t truly find sanctuary until Angel arrived at his room.  He opened the door, managing not to jostle you at all.  As soon as the door closed behind you, you broke down completely.  You hiccuped harshly, with only your Caregiver’s hold to keep you steady.

“Ah, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Angel soothed, petting your head gently.  “It’s all over now, and you’re safe.  I’m safe too, see?  Deep breaths.”

You nodded quickly, recalling the routine you had developed for times like this.  Deep breaths in, slow breaths out.  Focus on Angel’s voice and the smell of his perfume.  Watch Fat Nuggets because he’s cute and comforting.  (The pig was actually at Angel’s feet, looking up at you with big eyes and occasionally snuffling around his owner’s heels)

“Bad guys all gone?” you asked shakily.

“Yeah,” Angel chuckled softly.  “Me and Husky scared them away.  Well, Vaggie helped a little.”

You giggled softly.  Surely, Auntie Vaggie helped a lot more than a little.  Angie was just being silly!

“Want your paci, sweetie?” he asked.

“Mhm.  ‘N snuggles?” you requested.

“Of course snuggles!” Angel grinned, giving you a squeeze.  “Maybe Fat Nuggets will join us?”

“Yeah!”

Angel carried you over to his bed, carefully lowering you onto the mattress.  Amidst the fluffy blankets and throw pillows, you felt right at home–a cocoon of comfort.  Fat Nuggets hopped onto the bed too; he trotted up to you, with your favorite plush in his mouth.  Loyally, he dropped it in your lap, his tail wagging like a dog’s.

“T’ank you, Nugs,” you smiled, hugging your stuffie.

As you pet Fat Nugget’s ears, Angel reached over to the bedside table and grabbed your pacifier.  Angel had gotten it for you as soon as he became your Caregiver–as such it held a special place in your heart.  

“Here, baby,” Angel smiled, holding the paci to your mouth.  

Parting your lips, he popped it into your mouth before settling down beside you.  He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.  Even Nuggets cuddled closer, nudging you with his nose affectionately.

“Feeling better, toots?” Angie asked, rubbing your head.

“Yeahs.”

“I’m glad.  Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“‘S okay,” you yawned.

“No, it’s not.  But we’re doing our best, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, fidgeting with the fur on Angel’s hands.  

He was so soft.  Like a giant stuffed animal!  But his snuggles were so much better than what you could get from a toy.  Soft, warm, and loving.  

“You’re looking a little sleepy there,” Angel chuckled, no doubt watching your drooping eyes and longer blinks.

“No way,” you denied, shaking your head.

“Oh yeah?  Well, how about a story?” Angel grinned.

“Very Hungry Hellhound?” you requested.

“Sure, baby,” Angel laughed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the book.

As the two of you settled down and Angel’s voice drifted through the air, your eyes gradually grew heavier and heavier.  Your paci bobbed in your mouth and your plush was tucked under your arm.  Even Fat Nuggets was dozing off.  Before Angel could even finish the story, you had fallen asleep.  Safe and sound.

[allastoredeer]

I love to see Lucifer in a bad light. Not just because it's interesting but also because his usual imagine by fandom is this overly saccharin "he's sad and cute and awkward little guy who did nothing wrong, he just a little lamb" thing that makes me sick and I'm tired of it. And because people forget who is a human soul and who's the eldtrich being older than humanity.

AGREED! ESPECIALLY ABOUT THAT LAST BIT!

Sometimes, Lucifer just feels to humanized T.T like...that moment when Alastor feels more like a powerful eldritch being than Lucifer, I just?????? How????? Why????? When???

I've seen the headcanon where Alastor doesn't need to sleep, which is fun to think about, but when its paired with Lucifer being the one who needs sleep I just...it loses me...Alastor is just a Sinner. He's a Sinner with a bit more power than other Sinners. He's a Sinner part of the big bad Overlord club.

Sure, he may be more powerful than a common Hellborn, but compared to the Goetia and the royal family? He doesn't even hold up a candle. And he knows that. Lucifer knows that--which is another reason why he would not be intimidated by Alastor's power at all.

I love it when Lucifer is a jerk. I enjoy watching/reading him the most when he's being a jerk. He deserves to be in the bad light on occasion. Guy is flawed as fuck.

[unreasonablebanshee]

Now that he's taken on running an entire hotel and all of the paperwork that goes with it, while still doing his radio shows and whatnot, and causing general mischief and mayhem every so often, not to mention just watching the shitshow that is Charlie's attempt to rehabilitate sinners, Alastor has found that he doesn't have enough time to do all of the things he needs and wants. So, he finds himself in want of a secretary.

Angel Dust sees a golden opportunity here. He's not just a pretty face (although, he is that, too), you know! He's great at clerical work. He can run use modern and traditional office equipment, including typewriters, he can take dictation, he's great at math (so what if it's usually kilos he works with? Math is math), he actually does have nice handwriting when he wants, he can answer phones and he knows how to tell jerks who want to waste the boss's time to take a hike or make an appointment. He can file, he can use a ledger or computer spreadsheets, and he can make a mean cup of java; he can do it all, baby! And if he can prove that he's useful and the answer to all of Alastor's secretarial prayers, maaaybe Al will get him out of his contract with Val. After all, how is he supposed to be an effective secretary to Alastor if he has to be gone for hours or days or weeks at a time doing whatever disgusting shit Val wants him to do?

And just to sweeten the deal, he shows up to offer his secretarial services in a skirt suit like he used to always see the classy dames who worked in offices wear back when he was alive. He's pulling out all the stops for this, baby! He's in it to win it! And anyway, they say dress for the job you want, right?

And Alastor...well...he intended to refuse but what came out of his mouth instead was, "You're hired."

[aurorasilverthorne]

Doe — A Deer — A Female Deer!

______________

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!! Hazbin Hotel and all of its characters belong to Vivziepop and Amazon Prime.

______________

Overlord meetings either made her feel awkward or uncomfortable. It depended on who was in attendance. Rosie didn’t mind Zestial or Carmilla most of the time. Zeezi and Kilian were alright. She adored Alastor. But the Vees…ugh! Velvette—the loudmouth little shit talker was the most tolerable. Vox was a raging, petty bitch boy. And Valentino…his lewd remarks and unwelcome advances were enough to make Rosie’s stomach turn, which was saying something considering her cannibalistic tendencies.

She waited as long as possible before entering the conference room. Walking in with Alastor was usually enough to deter the pimpmoth, especially if they sat beside Zestial. Unfortunately, Alastor had yet to arrive. Part of Rosie feared he’d disappear again for another seven years. The thought formed a lump in her throat she forced herself to choke down. The others were already inside and ready to start. Valentino—the bastard he was, had claimed the seat between Zestial and the remaining unoccupied chairs.

Rosie glanced toward the elevators hoping and praying they’d open with a resounding ding and Alastor would step out. Nothing happened. No ding. No open doors. No dapper deer gent to rescue her from the clutches of Hell’s greatest pervert. Rosie bit back a groan and made her way to the table back straight and head held high determined to ignore the attending Vee.

The meeting began as they always did with roll call. It continued with a list of boring, drawn-out conversations about current events and other tedious things. The exterminations were still on hold and would be until further notice thanks to Charlie’s efforts and Carmilla’s knowledge of angelic steel and how to use it against exorcists. Rosie only half listened glancing at the door periodically looking for any sign of their resident wendigo.

Where was Alastor? Was he avoiding her? She’d been present during the battle, had seen him take a severe blow to the chest from Adam’s weapon. He’d come to her later for medical assistance. She’d cleaned, treated, and bandaged his wound. He’d promised to visit in the near future once repairs on the hotel were complete. She hadn’t seen, heard from, or spoken to him since. That had been a month ago.

Rosie tensed when she felt a familiar presence next to her. Valentino had switched chairs. He sat so close she could smell the overwhelming stench of his expensive cologne. She fought the urge to gag as he leaned in. His breath smelled of cigarillos and liquor. “What are you looking for, hermosa? Don’t you know everything you could ever want is right here?” He gestured to himself with what he probably thought was an alluring smile.

Rosie wrinkled her nose—or she would’ve if she’d had one. “I doubt that.”

The moth demon’s ill-tempered nature was legendary. It showed in how his expression twisted from false charm to petulant in the blink of an eye. “Hey, don’t blame me because your favorite furry isn’t here.” His suave facade slid back into place quicker than a snap of one’s fingers. “I’d never abandon you, Rosita.” He took her hand making her skin crawl as he brought it to his lips. “Forget Alastor. Date me instead. I don’t mind the occasional love bite.” His tongue slid out of his mouth to run along her knuckles.

Rosie jerked her hand out of his and recoiled. “That is disgusting!”

Everyone looked up and silence filled the room. Carmilla narrowed her eyes at Valentino before addressing Rosie. “Something you’d like to share with the rest of us, Rosie?”

The Cannibal Queen refused to falter under the weapons dealer's disdainful gaze. “Yeah. I have something to say.” She stood up and put one hand on her hip while pointing a finger at Valentino. “This prick’s been harassing me for weeks now, and not a damn one of you has said or done shit about it. These meetings are supposed to be neutral, not a breeding ground for sexual perversion. I’m leaving, you hear me? And if you don’t like it, feel free to kiss my ass!”

Carmilla’s eyes widened in shock as Rosie turned to leave. Zestial opened his mouth to speak, but Val beat him to it. “Hey! No one speaks to or about me that way, especially some cheap, tacky old slut from the cannibal colony!”

Rosie kept walking determined to get out of there. Before she could reach the door, Valentino lunged up out of his chair, one hand latching onto her hat while the other dug into the fabric of her gown just below her waistline. Rosie gasped caught off guard by the other demon’s rough attempt to drag her back to the table. She whirled around intent on elbowing him in the face or throat, but Val sidestepped, retaliating with a backhand to the face that left Rosie seeing stars.

The other overlords were about to intervene when something—or rather someone—slammed full force into the moth and sent him flying backward onto the table. The sheer strength of the collision knocked Rosie off balance. She landed on her knees catching herself with her hands as the sound of torn fabric filled her ears. Cool air danced along her doe ears and tail. One hand flew to her hair, the other to the lowest part of her spine in a futile attempt to hide what the others had already seen.

“Holy shit,” Zeezi exclaimed. “She’s a deer too!”

Rosie twisted around desperate to locate her hat. Val had taken it and a portion of her dress with him. He and Alastor were still grappling on the table. Val tried to kick Alastor off of him, but The Radio Demon was relentless and unyielding, landing punch after punch to any and every part of Valentino’s body he could reach. The solid wood beneath them caved in, but even that did nothing to dampen Alastor’s fury. He dug his nails into Val’s scalp and began slamming the pimp’s head against the concrete floor. “Don’t you ever touch her again you filthy piece of shit!”

Rosie winced at the sound of cracking bone. She felt something brush her shoulders and looked up to see Kilian putting his coat around her. Meanwhile, Alastor’s red scleras blackened and his pupils morphed into radio dials as he slashed at Valentino’s face, neck, and chest with his elongating claws.

“Get this fucker away from me,” Val screamed.

Zestial moved forth in a blur taking hold of Alastor. It took him and Zeezi working together to drag Alastor off of Val. Alastor struggled against their hold compelled by unparalleled anger at the moth’s repulsive treatment toward his Rosie.

“Alastor, cesar y desistir,” Carmilla ordered. Her commands fell on deaf ears.

Valentino crawled to the opposite side of the room putting as much distance between himself and the deranged deer demon as possible. His upper body was covered in deep gashes and fresh bruises, his attire soaked in blood. He pointed a trembling finger at Alastor. “Keep that thing away from me!”

Alastor hissed and gnashed his teeth. Zestial responded by slamming a wave of his dark magic down on the wendigo. Alastor bleated in pain breaking Rosie out of her stupor. She jumped up and ran to Alastor. “Don’t hurt him,” she cried, pushing Zestial away from Alastor. Much to everyone’s surprise, the ancient spider demon relented without protest and made no attempt to reprimand her.

Rosie knelt down beside Alastor and placed a hand on his back. The sound of her voice, gentle touch, and sweet lavender scent jolted him back to reality. His eyes returned to normal while his body shrank down to its natural size. She cupped his cheek and buried her face in the crook of his neck to soothe him.

He turned his head to meet her eye. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head following his gaze as it dropped to the coat draped around her. Rosie didn’t argue or fight him when he peeled it off her to replace it with his own. His instincts were likely screaming at him to make it clear to those present that she was already spoken for. Rosie cupped his face and rested his forehead against hers. Alastor's permanent smile softened as he wrapped her in a warm embrace and released what their onlookers could only assume was a content buck bleat.

“Awww,” Zeezi cooed. “So cute!”

Carmilla took a breath to steady herself. She didn’t like reprimanding Rosie or Alastor, especially for something Valentino had started, but there were rules and regulations when it came to overlord assemblies. She squared her shoulders and her voice took on an authoritative tone. “Alastor Dubois, Rosie Hunt?” Alastor stood and helped Rosie to her feet. They both turned toward Carmilla. “You are hereby banned from attending overlord gatherings for the next three months.”

Rosie scoffed. “Whatever. Ain’t no skin off my ass.”

Alastor wrapped a protective arm around her as they headed for the door. Valentino flipped them off thinking they couldn’t see with their backs turned. Alastor paused in the doorway to glare and snarl at the moth over his shoulder. Val screamed like the sissy bitch he really was and pressed himself against the wall. Alastor huffed and guided Rosie out into the hall.

Alastor always smelled of black coffee and pipe tobacco. Rosie breathed him in realizing right away his scent was stronger than usual. “You’re in rut,” she whispered, waiting until they were far enough away from the others to ensure they wouldn’t hear their conversation. “Is that why you haven’t visited me?”

“I didn’t want to risk harming you by succumbing to my baser needs,” he answered, pressing the first floor button.

“Oh, Al, you’d never hurt me,” Rosie assured him as they stepped onto the elevator.

The door slid closed behind them, though not before they saw Carmilla boot Val out of the conference room having banished him as well. Rosie covered her mouth to muffle a giggle at seeing the weapons dealer literally kicking the pimp’s ass all the way down the corridor to the adjacent stairwell. Her smile faded when Alastor removed his arm from around her so he could move to the other side of the elevator as they started their slow descent to the front lobby.

“You’re perfume,” he murmured, turning his face away and averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s so…”

“I’m in estrus,” she confessed, which explained why Val had been even more aggressive toward her than he’d been at previous meetings.

Rosie tried to close the distance between them but he held out his arm to stop her. “Don’t, Rosie, please…” The adrenaline from his fight with Valentino was still coursing through him along with the overwhelming desire to mate.

Rosie caught a glimpse of his strained expression. “Al…”

Without warning, she reached over, yanked open the emergency compartment, and pressed a button. Alastor swayed slightly when the elevator stopped. He lifted his head and saw her close the panel. “Rosie, what are you—”

Rosie silenced him with a kiss. Alastor’s ears jerked upright at the sudden, unexpected interaction. He tried to pull back but she cupped the back of his head and pinned him against the wall with her body. “The cameras,” he warned.

“I don’t care who sees. Let them watch. Maybe they’ll learn something.”

Alastor’s resolve melted away as she trailed kisses along his jawline and throat. He flipped them around pressing her against the wall while she undid his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. “Please don’t hold back,” she begged.  

He hiked up her silk skirt so it pooled at her hips. “Dearest Rosie, I’d never withhold anything from you.”

_______________

The other overlords stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the screen in front of them. They’d left the conference room the moment they’d noticed the red light flash above the elevator. Carmilla, leading the way, had run to her office thinking the elevator had stalled due to a technical malfunction. She’d snatched up the phone on her desk planning to reassure Rosie and Alastor they’d get them out as soon as possible only to freeze after noticing what was unfolding on the security feed currently displayed on her computer.

“Santa mierda! Are you serious right now?”

Zestial tilted his head to get a look and immediately averted his gaze. “Oh, my…”

Zeezi started laughing so hard she had to lean against the desk to keep herself upright. “It’s demonic Animal Planet!”

Kilian blushed then turned away. “We shouldn’t watch. It’s impolite.”

“They’re fucking in my elevator!” Carmilla yelled.

“Be glad it isn’t your office or the conference room,” Zeezi wheezed.

“She doth have a point,” Zestial admitted.

Carmilla facepalmed.

______________

[ohdeerfully]

HEYY HIII i finally gave some attention to this fic! this will be the final part, so i wrote in some semi sweet fluffiness between reader and al <3 kisses kisses hugs love you all!

Your Half of the Deal (iii)(Final)

Alastor x Reader

part i part ii part iii

TW: kidnapping, violence, alastor ooc probably... oh whale

join my discord!

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You had lost track of the time spent in that room, a near constant headache thrumming in your head due to the deep bass that you now knew resonated from the club just beyond the door. Every now and then you would recognize the faint tune of a familiar pop song—Angel often took you out to bars to escape from the Hotel—and let yourself enjoy the recognition, humming along. It was truly the only thing you could do with yourself.

You humored yourself with the thought of who your knight in shining armor may be, if one ever came. Would it be Alastor? Finally holding up his half of your soul bargain? Or maybe even Angel, stumbling across you in a bender with Cherri? Or even an unrelated third party that wouldn’t even recognize you; surely the Vee’s have made enough enemies to warrant somebody saving you just to get back at them. No matter who crossed your mind, you couldn’t get your hopes up. You were certain it hadn’t been days in here, but it had been long enough that you were starting to convince yourself nobody was coming.

You may just have to save yourself.

Due to the constant struggle against the metal restraints that chained you to the bed, your wrists had begun to blister and scab, sending dull waves of sensitive pain through your arms. Vox often visited, putting on a face of care and concern, but you knew better than to trust him. All Overlords had to be manipulative to get their way, and Vox was no exception—in fact, he may just be the worst of the worst (not including Alastor). He offered various times to help you dress the wounds on your arms, but you returned his gestures by hissing insults and lunging for that oversized television he had for a head. He kept trying, though, and each attempt at playing nice made you feel all the more crazy and violent. 

Speak of the devil, you thought with a frown as the door opened, briefly casting multicolored lights and a blare of loud music into the room before it was quickly silenced by the click of the door closing again. You subconsciously leaned towards the exit, desperately wanting to escape.

The tall, flat-faced demon strode in, head held high with, in your opinion, undeserved confidence. He was a coward. You fucking hated cowards. You let your lips curl into a sneer as he stopped a foot away from you, peering down with his own curled smirk. 

“You’ll get an infection,” Vox referred to your wrists. This shit again? You clenched your fists. “Please, let me treat them. It’s the least I could–”

“Man fuck off with that shit!” You snapped, leaning forward. You bared your fangs at him, tail lashing. “The least you could do is let me the fuck out! I’m fuckin’ hungry!”

Vox’s smile grew wider, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He took a breath in through his teeth, trying to remain polite. He sat down next to you, the mattress dipping with his weight. You took extreme care to not let yourself fall towards him from the unexpected shift.

Despite every bone in your body wanting to lunge in attack like usual, you held back. Truthfully you knew it was futile, you just enjoyed the rush you got from just trying to fight back. This time, though, you wanted to see if you could get any information about your current situation out of him. Maybe it would help you escape.

“You know we can’t let you out,” He said in a condescendingly sweet tone. He reached a hand out and placed it on your shoulder, digging his claws into your shirt and nearly into your skin when you tried to jerk away. You got the hint. “What better way to get to that out-dated Overlord than taking away his favorite toy?”

“I’m not a toy,” You said through clenched teeth. While you doubted this fact yourself, you would never admit it. Not to Vox. The smile he gave you in return was akin to an adult looking down on a naive child. It made your blood boil, and the internal battle you were having to not fly into attack mode was getting harder and harder. All the while you were talking, you kept analyzing him, looking for any semblance to a key, or anything that may serve as a lockpick. Whether to your restraints or even to the door, either would bring you one step closer to getting out. 

There was no doubt he recognized what you were doing—he was an Overlord, not a fool. Maybe he didn’t expect you to be much of a challenge, or to get very far, as he made no move to avert your prying eyes. If anything, it was like he was asking you to try, what with the way he shifted in such a way that you noticed the slight imprint of a key in his pocket. You tried your best to act indifferent. How the hell were you going to get that?

“Could you at least let me out for a moment to piss?” You kept up the attitude, but slumped your shoulders to look defeated and averted your eyes to the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his smile grow, a cheshire-like grin as if he was watching a mouse play right into his trap. And you didn’t doubt you were, Vox would never be so careless as to reveal the presence of a key unless it was on purpose. It didn’t matter to you, though, because you resolved to just be stronger than he expected you to be. He was underestimating you.

“Oh, but of course! No wonder you’ve been so snippy,” He joked, idly picking up the chain that was attached to the wall with a finger as he spoke. He shifted his hand over towards your wrists, gripping them just barely hard enough to send a wave of sensitive pain through your hand. You grit your teeth and bore back any recognition of the pain as he continued to fiddle with your chains.

He produced a key from his coat pocket. This must mean that the key in his pants pocket was for the door… which, if everything goes fine, would be perfect. Without your restraints, you only had to worry about getting the fuck out of here.

Relief swelled through your wrists when the clasps fell away from your skin, fresh air soothing your raw skin. You allowed yourself a second to tenderly press your fingers against the blisters, wincing at the sting it caused. You shook your hands out in front of you and stood, watching Vox out of the corner of your eye. He stood and offered his arm to you; although, you knew it was less of an offer and more of a command. He wouldn’t let you out of here if he couldn’t hold on to you.

You slowly slipped your arm through the curve of his elbow, linking yourself to him. You allowed yourself to mentally vomit at the contact, but held your expression steady and calm as he led you out. Maybe causing a scene in public will help? Honestly doubtful—you were in Hell, after all, and demons were much too intimidated by the technology Overlord. Maybe someone you know will just so happen to be here?

Thoughts and plans raced through your mind, but none seemed plausible. At this point, you thought it was just best to throw yourself at him even if it got you nowhere. It might do you good to get some energy out at the very least. 

Your senses were immediately overwhelmed when he opened the door; bright, flashing neon lights and the deep booming bass of music swamped over you. You were no stranger to this type of scene, but after being locked up in a deathly quiet room for some time… a headache was quick to come.

Swiftly taking in the scene before you, you desperately searched for some semblance of familiarity within the sea of people as Vox led you against the wall towards the restroom. You didn’t see anybody that you knew, but caught a few curious eyes, no doubt over the fact that you were basically holding Vox’s hand. You wished you could cast out some mental signal that you did not want to be this close to the Overlord and beg demons not to get the wrong idea. 

Your attention was brought back when Vox’s arm fell away from yours, and you realized you were standing in front of the restroom. You cast him a quick look before quickly dashing into the room, thankful to finally have a chance away from him without shackles on your arms. You rested your hands on the lip of the sink, heaving a shaky breath and looking absently at the drain, tracing the pattern of the speckles of undrained water that clung to the porcelain. You tried not to let it get to you, especially not in his presence, but being so close to the Technology Overlord made every nerve in your body blaze with anxiety.

Flipping the faucet on, you let the lukewarm water run over your bruised wrists. Times like this you wished Hell had the convenience of cold tapwater, but the water nevertheless did the job of soothing your skin. You watched the water blankly for a minute, mind lost in thought over your situation. The gentle warmth of the water almost sent you into a trancelike state, and you were likely to get stuck there for a few moments just enjoying it if it wasn’t for a loud banging at the door and an impatient voice calling for you. You snapped back a retort about him rushing you, but you still turned off the faucet and dried your hands.

With a quick glance at yourself in the mirror, you gave yourself a resolute and firm look before leaving the restroom. You could do this.

You flung open the door, not taking time to observe Vox’s somewhat surprised look as his fist was still raised to continue knocking on the door. You made a mad dash past him, ducking under claws that swung at your shirt collar in an attempt to yank you back. 

“Fuck- fucking get back here!” You heard him snarl from behind you, voice unnaturally louder than the music that boomed in the room. It was as if he just… commanded the music to be quieter so he could project his own, overpowering voice. Though you knew, as the Technology Overlord, that was most likely in his limit of power, you still couldn’t help the cold feeling that the uncanny experience sent in your bones. You kept running, ignoring the shouts of curiosity from the crowd at the whole ordeal.

A strong arm wrapped around your neck, bringing you close to somebody’s chest. The sudden change of momentum and pressure on your throat made you sputter momentarily for air, but it didn’t take long for you to come to and realize how fucked you were.

“Vox! Ova’ here!” The demon who held you tightly shouted, and you managed to just barely catch sight of his face. His smile was huge and toothy, a pleased look glimmering in his eyes. He fiercely waved his hand in the air.

“You gross, good for nothing fanboy!” You cried, struggling in his grip. You brought your hands up to his burly arm and dug your claws as much as possible into his skin, yanking down and shredding his skin. He kicked you away with a pained yelp, snarling some curses at you as he nursed his arms and slunk back in the crowd, of which had formed a large circle around the two of you, undoubtedly to the bar to lick his wounds. You stood, preparing to run, but… You realized it was too late.

Vox cleared his throat behind you. He had no need to grab you—you both knew running would be futile at this point. You tightened your lips together in a grimace and clenched your fists. What would you do now? 

Fuck it, and, just like you had when you first came across him, you lunged at him. Though, this time you went lower, hurling yourself into his stomach. He stumbled just enough to give you time to send a frenzy of claws across his body, scratching anything that came within reach of you. You gripped his leg and yanked up, toppling him over before you ran once again.

You didn’t get far before something curled over your ankle, twisting around the limb and tripping you. You fell to your hands with a loud ‘fuck’ before shooting your eyes to see what the culprit was—a thin wire twisted up your leg, digging harder and harder into your skin as the seconds past. Every attempt you made seemed futile to rid yourself of Vox, and you had to bite back a cry of frustration.

“Pets don’t get far without their leash,” He spat distastefully at you. A line of blood fell from his mouth, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in yourself for making Vox feel some pain, even if the blood on his face was just a display of light.

Vox walked closer, his height sending an ominous shade over your downed body. You didn’t let yourself tremble, though you wanted to, because you truly had nowhere to go from here; you couldn’t let him know that you were afraid. You would keep fighting him, no matter what, even if it would kill you. If you weren’t going to escape this shit, you would die trying. In your frenzied mindset, you didn’t notice the growing sensation of static that prickled against your skin.

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Alastor stood in front of the club, ears flat against his head in an attempt to block out the blaring music that he could already hear from outside the doors. He abhorred places like this, finding them distasteful and a disgrace to the clubs that he frequented back in his day. Of course, he had to get over himself in that regard—finding and saving you from the grasps of that nasty TV head was more important.

His shadow had returned to him a few hours after he left the Vees’ residence, having seen Vox himself entering the club through a back entrance. He had wasted no time in making his way there, ignoring the painful thrumming of his heart and the twisting feeling his stomach made. 

With a twirl of his cane and quick adjustment to his bowtie, he made his way in, melting into his shadow to slip in the crack of the same back door his shadow had seen. When inside, he found himself in a somewhat desolate corner of the club, his ears twitching uncomfortably at the sound of the music, louder now that he was inside. He swept his red eyes across the huge room, trying to see past the swarm of demons.

A light pressure on his shoulder, which he quickly recognized came from his shadow, urged his attention towards a room just to the left of the back entrance. The door was cracked open, and he slunk towards the door, peeking in before entering to ensure nobody was there.

The room immediately sent a wave of some uncomfortably intense emotion through him, though he wasn’t quite sure what—fury, maybe?—because the room smelled just like you. His nostrils flared and his eyes immediately narrowed at the realization, and the stick of his cane creaked from the grip he held on it. He didn’t fully understand why the hint of your presence after your absence made him feel so strongly, but he did know that he was pissed, the feeling of which was only increased tenfold when he saw the shackles that lay ominously barren on the bed.

He swiftly left the room, not caring if the slamming of the door brought any attention to him. It didn’t, though, and he quickly realized that a commotion on the other side of the club had already drawn the attention of everyone. A voice—no, your voice shouted something, and another wave of that fury coursed through Alastor’s veins. He quickly moved forward, shoving through the crowd. Demons began noticing his presence as he pushed, and space was being made for him to move through.

Though he wanted nothing more than to simply tear Vox apart, Alastor quickly gained composure and stepped out from the crowd into the wide berth that had formed around Vox and you. 

Alastor met your gaze for a brief moment, noting how thrilled you looked to see him and quickly sweeping his eyes over your body and analyzing your condition. His smile curled up in a light snarl when he saw the wire that twisted around your leg. How dare that flat-faced Overlord touch what belonged to Alastor?

He turned his head towards said Overlord, whose face was lit with a multitude of different emotions. Alastor could tell his breathing was coming rapidly, and whether it was due to excitement, fear, or even both, Alastor didn’t know nor did he truly care. All he saw was a pathetic demon before him who took something that wasn’t his.

“My old friend!” Alastor exclaimed with fake friendliness, a smile lighting up his face as his arms stretched up and wide. He stepped towards Vox, an ominous shadow forming under his feet as he walked. Tiny tendrils of flame licked up from the manifesting power as Alastor purposefully made an attempt to intimidate Vox into submission. There was intense bloodlust in his veins, but he was less inclined to create a scene with another Overlord than just getting out of here with you. Plus, despite Vox’s obsession with defeating Alastor, the other two Vee’s really kept out of the feud… Alastor didn’t want to draw the attention of them as well.

Vox didn’t yield, though, and he also began walking towards Alastor, though his body language was much less friendly. His shoulders were high and tense and his claws curled into fists, a frown flickering onto the screen of his face. The two stopped just a foot from each other, and the energy in the room crackled dangerously. The music had stopped, and the crowd of demons had begun slinking out of the club, deathly quiet so as to not draw the attention from the Overlords. This wasn’t particularly necessary, though, as they watched each other with equally unyielding iron stares.

Alastor allowed one more look at you when he heard you weakly say his name. Maybe the sight of him brought you enough relief to finally let exhaustion overcome your body, because you had lost all will to fight. When he saw just how pitiful you looked, how extremely exhausted you were, he didn’t care to hold back anymore.

“I don’t let thieves get away for long,” Alastor said, his voice low and filled with static. He felt the weight of his horns as they expanded while his limbs grew unnaturally, allowing him to tower in height over Vox. In response, tendrils of wire began sprouting from Vox’s body, as well as dangling from the ceiling, poised to attack. “Somebody should’ve taught you some manners on property.”

“We’re in Hell, genius,” Vox growled back. There was an almost ecstatic look in his eyes, but his voice sounded rushed and frantic. “I know you’re old, but come on! How do you forget that?”

Alastor didn’t grace Vox with a response, an inky black spear of shadow shooting from the pool that had been forming underneath Alastor’s feet. It stabbed into Vox’s leg, who couldn’t react in time, but he stood his ground still and threw his own wave of tendrils at Alastor in return. Alastor was quick to move out of the way of the piercing wire, but he wasn’t able to avoid the three that came from above and wrapped around his torso, lifting him nearly a foot off the ground. His red eyes were steadfast of Vox, and he didn’t bother to struggle against the wire. Vox brought him closer, face inches away from Alastor’s own.

“Somebody should’ve taught you about knowing your place! You outdated–” Vox had let his guard down, if only for a moment, and Alastor took that chance. His arm surged forward and through Vox’s face, shattering the glass display. The screen immediately went black, save for the flashes of glitching display lights as the sound of his voice was cut short, replaced by unintelligible buzzing and zapping. Alastor withdrew his hand, bleeding lightly from the glass and metal, and quickly caught his balance when the wires around his torso slackened, dropping him.

Alastor easily stepped to the side as Vox’s twitching body fell to its knees and then forward, the flat screen slamming into the ground with an almost comical slap. The radio demon looked down at it for a few seconds, the corners of his smile curling in a displeased sneer. He truly wanted to avoid getting physical. Vox wasn’t dead, Alastor knew better than to get his hopes up, but his ego would certainly be bruised.

His attention was drawn away from the body, still jerking and sparking, when he heard you softly call for him. He turned on his heel, positioning his hands over his cane to lean and look down at you. You were looking up at him, picking yourself up from the sticky club floor to sit on your knees. He couldn’t keep his eyes from lingering over your haggard appearance, especially the raw, blistering skin of your wrists.

Maybe it was how pitiful you looked, peering up at him like an abandoned kitten, your eyes glazed with a mixture of tears and exhaustion, but something in Alastor urged him to swoop down and hold you in his arms. He was able to fight himself for just a brief moment, but the overwhelming sensation of relief eventually got the best of him.

A cautious step forward, an uncertain glance over your expression, another step, pause… before he finally knelt down in front of you. He looked into your eyes, searching—for what he didn’t really know—before his arms slowly slid under yours, wrapping against the dip of your waist and gently pulling you towards himself. For now he was acting without much thought, doing something he never thought himself capable of. And, strangely enough, you reciprocated the gesture. Why was his heart swelling so much as he felt you tying your own arms around his neck? 

It was silent for some time, the club long abandoned from the confrontation with the TV demon. The tender embrace the two of you shared in a rather unconventional place was likely going to be brushed under the rug, forced to be forgotten; you both knew this fact, so maybe that’s why Alastor was letting it draw on for so long. He himself didn’t understand why he enjoyed the feeling.

“Thank you,” you started slowly, afraid to break the silence. You worried that calling attention back to reality would make Alastor shove you away and walk you home like nothing happened. When he made to move to do so, you continued. “For… saving me. I really appreciate it.”

“I couldn’t leave you in the hands of that pompous Overlord,” Alastor responded matter-of-factly. Though, you did notice the sudden lack of radio ambience in his voice. You bit back the thought of making any sort of joke about him actually caring about you—now was definitely an extremely inappropriate time for that. Maybe later.

You pulled away from the embrace slightly, making eye contact with the radio demon, your faces inches apart. You saw something in those red eyes that looked back at you, a spark of some desire that you wouldn’t dare name in front of him. You would be lying if you didn’t feel the same, too. 

When had you fallen for this guy? This overimposing jerk that manipulated you into selling your soul to him to throw you around like a doll? And why? Maybe him actually pulling his weight in your deal helped you finally realize your unknown attachment to him.

In your thoughts, you failed to realize how the proximity of your faces had gotten smaller and smaller, and you were only jerked back to the present when you felt the lightest touch of his lips against yours. In shock, you had opened your eyes, but quickly closed them when you realized what was happening. 

What felt like ages was really only a couple seconds, which was the capacity Alastor could handle. He pulled himself away, and you didn’t fail to see the hue of red that heated his face, though it was light. He cleared his throat and pressed his lips into a thin line, before he composed himself into his usual happy smile.

“A siren, I see!” He joked, trying to play himself cool as he looked down at his chest to fix his bowtie. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

You flashed him a coy grin, unwrapping yourself from the hug and struggling to your feet. He gingerly held your hand in his so you wouldn’t fall, and let you lean against him. Falling from that wire grabbing you had evidently caused your ankle to sprain, and you were just now realizing after the adrenaline had left your system. You looked up at him playfully.

“Surely contracts can be changed.”

Alastor hummed in response, looking forward to not meet your eyes. That wasn’t a no, though.

part i part ii

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[hiemaldesirae]

Thorn here:

Alastor's starts his usual broadcast when he realizes his muse has unlocked his side of their shared frequency--and of *course* Al takes advantage, how could he not? It would be entertaining to mess with dear Vox, after all, hadn't he told him to never let any weakness show towards what he thought was an enemy? (Not that he would ever, ever permanently hurt his precious, precious, picture box. Remind him of lessons he should have already learn so he could continue to live, so he could return to Alastor's side, once and for all? Of course!)

So he puts on jazz music mixed with previous overlord and sinner screams, before falling into the frequency to find out what Vox is up too--only to SNARL in RAGE as agonizing pain reaches him from Vox.

He rips himself from the deep immersion, antlers scraping the ceiling as he stands up. "VOX," He breathes, melting into the shadows and disappearing from his radio tower.

He appears in Vox's room, his shadow moving towards the room's door, stretching over it until it covers it completely. The scent of Vox's blood fills the air, and Alastor snarls again.

He stalks over to Vox's nest of blankets, eyes on the still figure resting within. He hisses as he catches sight of Vox's Broken and bleeding tail lying limp outside of the nest, before he sees the hastily wrapped stomach wound and the gauze pressed onto Vox's right shoulder.

Another snarl leaves his throat--who dared hurt his muse? As he slipped his shoes off before entering Vox's nest, gently touching the TV demon's wounded shoulder to treat it.

The touch it seems is all it took to wake Vox, as the broken cyan tail gave a weak jerk, and his screen powered on. Red eyes blinked, panic, fear and hate gleamed in them before they realized who it was, and pure relief shone in them mix with a bit of warmth at seeing the stag.

"Vox, dear, who did this too you?" Alastor gently asks, as he begins to treat Vox's shoulder wound, summoning medical equipment as needed. His ears flatten and his rage grows as his muse attempts to answer and only gibberish and squeaks come out, and he gently presses a finger to Vox's lips. "Let's get you better first, then you can tell me." He murmurs softly, finishing fixing Vox's shoulder before checking the gut wound and giving a bellow of rage as he spots the angelic bullet. "WhO DaReS?!?!"his roars, antlers screeching against Vox's metal ceiling, before something sweet and warm reaches out to him in their shared frequency, gently curling around him, nuzzling him, soothing his rough edges and promising him a sweeter, bloodier revenge later--one that will taste even better.

Alaster gives a bleat as he relaxes into Vox's frequency touch, silently categorizing the pain still filling it as his muse sooths him. "Let's get this bullet out of you, and sew you up, hmmm my sweet Clio? But first, I'm going to give you a little shot--It's for pain." He murmurs as he began to work, taking a shot filled with a highly potent pain medication and diligently finding a vein in Vox's unhurt arm, stabbing it in and giving his muse the medicine before the other overlord could stop him. Grinning as Vox shot him an unhappy look, he gently rubbed his thumb on Vox's hand until the medicine took effect, and then he began to work.

After finishing with both Vox's stomach and tail, Alastor curled around his muse, one arm gently curled over Vox's chest, their frequency freely flowing as Alastor soothed Vox's dreams.

"They'll pay, dear one." He purred mouth pressed against Vox's monitor. "They'll regret this. Oh, this I promise."

thorn do you have an ao3 seriously guys. please. consider publishing your works im opening my inbox and staring flabbergasted at the absolute gems im finding in there

ough the hurt/comfort troupe ALWAYS hits me like. straight in the fucking heart especially. i think theyre really so sweet...... i think alastor would probably circle through calling vox all the muses names at least once honestly, im surprised you went with clio first since i thought calliope was the most well known but i cant say its not a welcome surprise to see some variation lol

im guessing here that alastor and vox havent yet made up? which actually makes it all the more heartwrenching, really, especially if vox isnt really in his right state of mind when al comes so when he wakes up like all sober and no longer delirious from blood loss, imagine him just flinching and bolting away from the other.... haaaaahh you guys are really killing me with these mini fic morsels.