#no restraint when broadcasting

[starboye]

pairing: vinnie hacker x male reader

request: reader cock warming vinnie during stream, and vinnie tells him to sit still like a good boy and reader gets needy and bratty and starts bouncing so vinnie either ends stream / or keeps it on (ur choice) and spanks and punishes him by leaving him tied to the bed with a vibrator on his dick to overstim him

warnings: smut, over stimulation, cursing, pet names, spanking

to say you were needy right now would be an understatement, you were feral for the man currently under you, although you were on a stream being broadcasted to the world vinnie wanted you to cock warm him, so here you were sat on his lap with his dick snugly inside your hole basically making it it's second home with the way it stretched you out, but you wanted mo- no you needed more.

so what would really be the harm in rolling your hips a little while your boyfriend plays a game you know nothing about and care even less about, but you hear vinnie wince a little before grabbing your hips with his hand "be a good boy for daddy and sit still" vinnies whispers in your ear just low enough that the viewers don't hear, but you couldn't resist (who would be able to) you resumed your antics and rolled your hips against vinnies lap to feel any friction against his dick.

this time you started slightly bouncing up and down on his dick, but just enough to where you could get some satisfaction out of it and not raise suspicion, vinnie tries to focus on the game but he cant with a needy slut like you trying to fuck yourself on his cock so he quickly ends stream "what did i tell you, huh" vinnie asks wrapping his hand around your throat "to not move" you say shyly "so then why'd you move" vinnie question harshly smacking your ass "i need you cock so badly, i need to cum" you whimper.

"well since you wanna cum so badly i can arrange that" vinnie smirks as he picks you up and takes you to his room, he lays you on the bed, your gaping wet hole briefly catching his eyes but he gets back to what he was doing, he looks around in his drawers and pulls out some rope, a vibrator, and a butt plug and i think you can guess what happens next.

vinnie ties your hands and feet to the bed, just tight enough to know you couldn't break them, he shoves in the butt plug to make some room for him later on when he comes back, and the cherry on top he straps the vibrator to your dick and sets it at maximum setting "v-vinnie" you whine pulling against your restraints "what's the matter baby i thought you wanted to cum so badly" vinnie tease toying with your butt plug.

"no... please don't leave me like this" you beg "don't worry i'll be watching you" vinnie says pointing to the camera in the coner of the room as he gets up and walks to the door "wait vinnie please" you cry out as you cum your first load, the vibrator overstimulating you and keeping you going "you were the one who disobeyed me now these are the consequences" vinnie says closing the door behind him and walking back to his set up, hearing your whines and moans as he does so.

"hey everybody, i'm sorry we just had some technical difficulties" vinnie smiles turning back on the stream, everybody asking where you are "oh don't worry about y/n he's just... taking care of something" vinnie says watching you moan and squirm through the camera before putting that into a little box in the corner of his computer to watch you sink deeper and deeper into over stimulation.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat

[solbaby7]

Make You Mine

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual tension, toxic relationships, possessive themes, violence, ( just a fuck ton of bad decisions babe, i can’t help it, live for a feral Az )

summary:

[ part one ]

—

Sometime after dinner, once the adrenaline and underlying excitement had quelled; you’d decided to keep Damien around. While proving to be generally horrible, he also perfectly filled the place of a pawn.

A pawn in a game that only you knew you were playing.

One that pushed the line of entirely too far when you showed up at training the following day with hickeys lining the length of your neck—the same place Azriel’s lips had pressed their kisses into at dinner. The same lips you’d pictured when Damien was putting them there, hands groping at your ass as he eased the hem of your black dress over your hips.

Azriel notices you the same time you spot Nesta, striding past the shadowsinger without a hint of acknowledgement but you could feel his eyes glued to the fit of your leathers. “I thought it wasn’t your place to be out here playing with swords?” Nesta drawls out, almost bored as her opponent shuffled out of the ring nursing a bruised jaw.

“If that’s the case, then show me where I belong, Lady Death.” You peer up at her and the five finger grip on her hip, practice sword held loose in her free hand.“Unless, you can’t?”

“I’m surprised you still have enough energy to bother,” Nesta gestures to her own neck and you subconsciously tug your shirt higher. “Long night?”

A slow grin grows at the corner of your mouth, hands bracing your weight to hoist yourself into the ring and briefly you all but preen when you feel the shadowsingers rage permeating the air. Toying with Azriel’s poor restraint never ended well but surely he wouldn’t actually kill anyone. Pride overwhelms common sense and you can feel the chill of his shadows slinking around the edges of the ring as if summoned; watching, listening. “Early morning.” Nesta’s grip tightens on the hilt of her practice sword with full intent of taking you up on your offer but when her lips part no words form.

Instead, she makes a noise, not quite a scoff but not exactly a hum either. “So, there is something decent about the company you keep after all.” You don’t take it offensively and you’re certain Nesta’s readying herself for more but it never comes. A brow raises, head tilting to the side but the silence makes sense when the towering figure behind you blocks the warm sun from bare shoulders.

“Actually,” The husky tone tickles the shell of your ear. “—you’ll be sparring with me today.”

“I’d rather not.”

Azriel’s hand curls around your arm, holding firm but not hard enough that you can’t break free if you tried—if you wanted to. You refuse his gaze, focusing on anything but him and his centuries of trained muscles stuffed beneath the fabric of his fighting leathers. He’d ditched the jacket, tunic too, both tossed in a heap near Cassian. Left in nothing but the sleeveless undershirt that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination; broadcasting the sharp lines of his neck and the soft curls of inky tattoos that resided there. “You don’t get to make the decisions here anymore,” His free hand raises to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side and he can’t fight his body’s natural reaction to snarl at the very thought of another man’s mouth on your skin. “Not when you keep proving that you make such poor choices.”

You jerk away from his grasp, twisting out of the grip on your arm and a foot smacks at the back of his knees. Finally looking at him—looking down at him, Azriel sees the fire in your eye; the hatred and anger. The betrayal at his hands and the person you had to become because of it. “You have no right to judge my choices.” It’s barely a whisper, concealing as much as you could with so many eyes watching—so many ears listening. “You mean nothing to me.”

“We both know that isn’t true.” Curse your body for reacting to his touch; warm hands sliding up to cup at your waist. The smell of him sinking into your nostrils and seducing every nerve like a walking aphrodisiac.

“I think I have feelings for Elain.”

The reminder snaps you back to reality, hand reaching out to smack him clear across his face. His eyes lower to slits, right cheek going red but you’re too pissed to even register the stinging pain in your palm. “Fine,” Azriel says too casually, jaw ticking with barely there restraint. “We can play this your way.”

It’s gone quiet save for the two of you, the others pausing their fighting to see the scene unfold, waiting to witness the spymaster make an example of you. Certainly, they must’ve forgotten that you’d been doing this since you were old enough to wield a sword; fighting males bigger than Azriel.

Fuck feelings when you had a point to prove.

“I’m not here to play with you, Az. I just want to fight.” It was a cheap shot; using the stupid little nickname to your advantage but his body always reacted so obediently to his name on your tongue. He’d just barely gotten back to his feet before you strike at him, throwing a quick succession of jabs his way in a style that he didn’t teach you.

Maybe all of those weeks away traveling the other courts after his confession had left marks that he hadn’t learned yet.

Something about you that Azriel didn’t know.

The very thought leaves him distracted a second longer than he’d have ever allowed if it was anyone else. He’s quick to recover, blocking and dodging, throwing hits of his own but eventually you grow tired of the refrained punches—the obviously subdued responses to your rage and it only adds more fuel to the fire. “If you aren’t even going to try and be a challenge then just yield so I can spar with Nesta like I planned.”

He hadn’t reached for his sword once, not a single finger twitched to grip at the daggers holstered at his hips and sure, hand-to-hand was fine but with Azriel it felt too close; too intimate. “Is that what you want?” He takes a step closer and immediately your face turns away from him, refusing to acknowledge him or that low tone he took with you and only you. “A challenge?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Except to have been the first choice. One that he was sure in. Not second guessing if every special moment had only felt like that for you. “Not anymore.” The thought alone has your skin flushing with embarrassment, completely turning around to hide but Azriel just shifts to accommodate.

“You don’t mean that.” There’s worry etched in his brow, skewing the whole canvas of his face and it was like your soul wanted nothing more than to appease him. Battering and clawing at your bones, scrambling for the freedom soothe every line and give him everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.

“I want to.” Azriel watches the stone wall you put up, rounding up all that love and adoration, cradling at the sobbing affection that no longer had a place to call home. It takes everything in you to leave it all, to ignore the desire to toss aside better judgement and fall into the need. The softness in your eyes dies with the squaring of your shoulders as you retake your stance, regarding him as nothing more than one of the recruits. “Fight me or leave the ring—I don’t exactly have all day.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to leave. Forfeit and grant you a worthy opportunity but that is not the case.

You should’ve known better.

Azriel’s determination was a force to be reckoned with, skilled swipes of his sword followed by combat moves he only saved for the battlefield. A particularly rough strike is blocked but it still makes you stumble. “Is this challenge enough for you?” Azriel demands, swords interlocked, faces so close you could smell the minty scent of toothpaste on his breath. Golden eyes are piercing under the suns rays, barely concealing how impressed he truly was with the way you’d kept up. Swift and limber, light on your feet and efficient in every step taken but there’s a certain chaos to your moves—something fresh and unpredictable. “This right here,” The fight, the passion, the frantic thrum of your blood rushing in your ears from the pure adrenaline that erupted at the sight of him. “—is why we will never be over.” He’s not even breaking a sweat, syllables breaching perfectly kissable lips while looking like he belonged on a throne in the deepest chasms of Hel. “I know he doesn’t make you feel like this—not like I do.”

“Stop.” It takes more effort now; balancing keeping up that stone wall and maintaining your composure under his attacks. A deep breath to settle your thoughts and you completely drop your sword, effortlessly switching to something more hands on.

“Don’t you see that I can’t?” The restraint in his voice slips, a vein bulging in his neck and your fingers scream for you to reach out and trace it. “Not until you see that he will never be able to do for you what I can.” Azriel’s shadows swirl around your arms, clamping them close to your body as he pulls you into him—his chest on your back and those hands attempting to disarm you. Your breath hitches when you feel the trace of warm skin down the length of your holsters and the weapons fastened to them. A barely there that sends your body in a pure frenzy; one that demands all things Azriel until the end of time. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what it felt like—you and me.” The stiff length of his cock pressed into the curve of your spine and it takes everything in you not to actually moan. “Just say the words and I’ll remind you. Right here in front of everyone if that’s what you wish.”

Do it. Your thoughts shout. Do it. You know you want to.

“I think I have feelings for Elain.”

Sharp jabs of your elbow to his abdomen. A hand that clamps down around the thick bulk of his arm and all that manly strength is used against him when he’s flipped right over your shoulder. Legs straddle at his waist, one blade shoved at his throat while the other pressed gently at his chest. “No, he doesn’t make me feel how you do.” You confess, breathless and your shoulders slump ever so slightly. “But, at least with him, I know I was his first choice. At least with him,” Your words shake and Azriel can’t handle the way you have to force the composure. “—I never have to worry about being second best.” The swords clatter to the ground, not bothering to retrieve them as you get back to your feet.

You’re nearly at the edge of the ring when he calls out, still on the ground and propped up on his elbows. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Neither do you, Az.”

[bluecollarmcandtf]

F*** the Police

These assholes have no idea what's coming. They couldn't have known that every station in the city was recently bugged with subliminals. All their precincts have been hacked and now broadcast some very specific orders into the clueless minds of every working cop. No one knows it yet, but the police force is now an army of sleeper agents, ready to obey their conditioning with one simple trigger phrase...

"Fuck the police."

That's all you have to tell them.

Isn't it clever? Hundreds of people already hurl that phrase at pigs in uniform everyday. Just imagine an officer starting his shift, hearing the same insulting words he's heard a million times; only this time, the sound of it knocks the will right out of his body. Suddenly, his self-important personality is replaced with a new one that was specifically designed to humiliate and degrade him.

Think about our boys in blue swaggering around the city right now, intimidating us with their very existence. One "Fuck the police," and that law enforcer is at the whim of the protestor spitting in his face.

You're probably wondering what subliminal messages have been stuffed away inside their heads. Maybe you want to know what'll happen when you find a pig and say the magic words. Or maybe you're a filthy pig yourself, quivering in your state-issued, uniform boots.

Let's find out what New York's finest will do...

Officer Mikos was chasing down some teens after catching them spray painting near city hall. He'd almost hauled them into his cruiser when one shouted, "Man, fuck the police!"

The cop felt his feeble mind snap.

He started breathing heavily through a gaping mouth, looking at the 18 year-olds with a desperation that was not very becoming of a policeman. Drool poured out of his mouth and onto his uniform as he licked his lips suggestively. The cop was no longer bothered with laying down the law. Instead, he wanted, he needed these boys to fuck him up the ass.

His whole body craved to feel these vandals immasculate him publicly.

Of course, it was all in his head. Officer Mikos had spent plenty of hours working late at the precinct, so the conditioning had soaked deep into his skull. He was normally a straight-laced conservative man of the law, but that didn't stop him from rubbing his junk through his pants and slobbering all over himself.

"Fuck me," he moaned, "Please boys, fuck me."

The teenagers howled laughing, but even they were disgusted by the police officer's sudden flip in behavior. They didn't take him up on his request, preferring to run free. Officer Mikos was left to stagger off, shamelessly begging any passerby for sex. He needed someone, anyone to humiliate and fuck him.

Officer Bailey didn't get off so easy...

He was in the middle of breaking up a pub fight when one of the drunks slurred, "Fuck thuhplee..the police!" before puking.

The rookie cop might've been getting a handle on the two brawlers, but any control he'd had quickly dissipated. His eyes lost their focus and the baby pig lost all restraint, coming onto the inebriates like a back-alley whore. "Fuck me!" he begged, as one continued barfing and the other blindly stumbled into it.

Officer Bailey was suddenly filled with the knowledge that these two men, drunk off their asses, needed to screw him. It was the best way for him to disgrace himself, his uniform, and his department; which is exactly what the subliminal programming wanted him to do.

Barely able to think, one drunk said, "Warm ussup with that slobb'ry mouth of yers."

The policeman couldn't wait to get started.

Officer Bailey bobbed his wet lips on each of their sweaty dicks; he ripped his pants open and skewered his ass on their poles; but the real mission came after they grew bored of his sex. He couldn't let the opportunity to humiliate himself further just walk away, so he came up with new ideas! The cop offered to lick up their cum from the dirty asphalt, to let their piss air-dry on his face, to roll around in their vomit; anything to satisfy the voice in his head ordering him to degrade himself.

Eventually, the alcoholics tossed him aside, jokingly ordering him to throw himself away since they were finished. "Thaz where youz belongs, you pisa trashh!" the satisfied drunks garbled as they wobbled off.

Disgraced Officer Bailey couldn't keep the dumb smile off his face. He felt like he'd succeeded. He felt like, as a policeman, this garbage bin was where he belonged. He wouldn't be feeling that way forever.

In the harsh light of morning, the only comfort he had was knowledge that his humiliation was solely between him and the two drunks.

These next two weren't so lucky...

Dan and Frank were partners: police partners. As they would say, they weren't into any of that "gay crap." The two had actually bonded over their ideals of traditional masculinity and hatred of homosexuals. On any given day, you could find them camped on the highway, scowling about the last "fag" they had to interact with.

They couldn't think of anything more awful than being gay, so of course, when they heard "Fuck the police," their first inclination was to do the gayest shit ever.

"Fuck me," Officer Frank moaned to his partner as effeminately as his low voice could manage.

"No, fuck me!" Officer Dan whined, "You're so much bigger than me, so I should be the girl here."

Officer Frank couldn't wait any longer. He pulled Dan in and sucked his partner's face with the sloppiest kiss he'd ever given. They both created as many noises as possible, drawing a ton of attention to themselves. When they finally pulled apart, he said, "Let's go to that gay club down the street. I bet I can suck more cocks than you! I need to be the bigger police queer!"

"No way! I need to be the biggest faggot!"

With that, Officer Frank turned and marched down to the gay club, a place he normally pretended didn't exist. He was imagining crawling in on his hands and knees, putting his open mouth on the first crotch he saw.

Officer Dan hesitated. Normally he and Frank would stick together, but Dan was afraid Frank would steal all the gays away from him.

Licking his lips, the smaller policeman came up with a brilliant plan. He marched in the opposite direction, down towards the bridge. He knew there were dozens of homeless men down there who would gladly line up for his mouth. He was determined to suck more dick than Frank, and he was glad he was the one doing it with filthy hobos in public!

You think those two homophobes deserved it? There's no doubt about the next officer...

Bill Duncan is a long-time cop who comes from a family of law enforcers, but Bill is the only one that hasn't risen past the rank of petty officer. It probably has something to do with his history of aggression or his repeated DUIs. Still, Officer Duncan never got disciplined. His blue blood made sure of that.

It's a good thing he heard that "hoodlum" say "Fuck you, pig!"

The experienced cop had just been tailing a guy in a hoodie because he looked suspicious. In reality, Bill was just bored at work. That all changed after he heard those words.

His face brightened as a toothy smile spread into his round cheeks. "You're right. I am a pig," his scratchy voice sounded more animated.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"Come on!" Officer Duncan cried, leaning his thick frame towards his suspect "Give my lardy gut a good shake or kick me in the nuts! Anything to make this cop look like the fat ugly swine he is."

"Uh..."

"Oink," the policeman licked his lips playfully, "Are you still intimidated by me? How scary can a cop be if he shits his pants!"

With that, Bill groans, pushing a load out into his uniform pants, all while maintaining eye contact with the stranger. It's sticky, hot, and uncomfortable, but that only brings his twisted mind joy. That feeling is doubled when he sees his perp gasp in disbelief. He just can't help but humiliate himself in front of this guy.

"You like that?" he gasps, "Let me get a couple dozen donuts. You can see just how full of shit us cops are!"

Officer Duncan spent the rest of the night stuffing donuts into his face. The guy he'd been following tagged along, streaming the mess on social media. Bill's mindfucked brain was only too happy to be the butt of the joke. He made fun of law enforcement in every way he could think, while occasionally oinking at the camera.

So imagine the next time you get pulled over...

Are you going to exercise your right to bring those arrogant cops down a peg? All you have to do is say three simple words to trigger the conditioning etched in their brains. Just like that, Mr. Goody-two-shoes will be frothing at the mouth for a chance to degrade himself in front of you.

How are you going to make him do it?

[klttn]

— 𝜗𝜚 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 alastor - sex to alastor isn’t what you’d expect. it isn’t romantic, or even sexual, to a degree, it’s primal. possessive. completely animalistic. he thrives off of being that close to you, inside of you so deep he could feel everything just from your cunt. the pure control he had of you just from the simple act of his cock being inside of you. the mewls from your throat as he’d stretch you. it was addicting, he loved the lewd noises that spewed from you, scared expression and fear in your eyes spurring him on. you had no power this way and that’s what he needed and you loved.

the first time you asked to cockwarm him, he immediately shut you down. too much power for such a ditzy girl. he didn’t like the idea that a subtle move from your hips could initiate that primal urge to fuck your brains out. that was way too much control not in his possession and he hated that. but when one day, as he was broadcasting, you came to sit in his lap, he realised truly just how fun being inside you at all times could really be.

he’d bottom out with you shrinking deep into his lap, large frame wrapping you up. if you were scared enough, he knew you wouldn’t dare move or test him. he could be blissfully ignorant to his little girl whilst feeling the fear induced twitches of her cunt as he did whatever he pleased. he could be doing anything, he didn’t care. if he was, eating, working, broadcasting, in a meeting, if he wanted to be inside you, he would be. he grew to crave it. a thought once so preposterous he would laugh in the face of anyone to suggest it, now becoming his favourite thing.

on the very few occasions you’d test his patience, bucking your hips or attempting to ride him, you’d end up gagged and bound. his black whips trapping you and forcing you to sit still. he’d revel in the adorable helplessness in your eyes, your body restricted and held in place, his power still very much evident. “silly girl,” he’d whisper. it would only make your pussy weep down his cock. and if he was a man of less self restraint, you’d be fucked against the nearest wall, demonic and ruthless without a care for any of your surroundings. that rarely happened though.

his favourite part about it all was being close to you. it was uncommon for the demon to sleep or relax so having a sleepy girl huddled up in his lap, just one of his shirts draping over your shoulders and soft snores leaving your lips. it was everything to him. his cock buried to the hilt in your soft pussy, little whimpers leaving your lips if you tried to adjust yourself in your sleep. he’d coo and hump his hips sometimes just to hear those noises more. they were addicting and proof of the complete and utter power over you.

he’d never start with the intention of leaving you dripping with his cum but how was his primal need to breed supposed to react to such a needy thing. neither of you minded though, you loved storing his cum inside you just as much as you did his cock. and if after you’d end up with his load and his cock, that was even better. <3

[senseichaos]

long time listener, first time caller

saw the piss thing and… do you do pissing inside? alastor cockwarming on the radio show, having to let out some tension, not wanting to get up and move to do it… maybe even lucifer on his thrown… just a thought 🫣

this is so good! Thank you for the req!

IMAGINE

(ik I use this gif all the time.. leave me alone)

PISS WARNING ⚠️

Sometimes when Alastor does his radio show, having you nestled on his cock is the best to get out his most confident work. And he loves the way you squirm. He'd always end up having to use his tentacles or some sort of magic restraint to refrain you from moving.

This time around however, he had forgotten to do one of the most important things before sitting you on his cock.

Go to the toilet.

It wasn't a big deal, really. He could probably hold it, and he didn't need to go that badly. However as he was talking about some recent news in hell, an idea popped into his tar black mind.

"And we have some acid rain scheduled for this afternoon! Make sure you get inside, or the cannibals will eat your body after it's rotted in the rain. Or I may eat you myself! I have been hankering for some sinner meat recently.." Alastor says, reciting the last thing on his news list for the broadcast.

"Any how, let's get some music playing shall we?" Alastor says the name and creator of the song before tuning his voice out, turning off his mic so he can organize the next part of his script.

Yet as he moves, he can't help but feel his bladder clench.

"Ngh.. Alastor, how much longer..?" You ask with a pathetic whimper, trying to wiggle your hips. Alastor's tentacles tighten around your thighs as this, ensuring you won't try to shift again.

Chuckling, Alastor smooths your hair back, giving you a dark look that causes goosebumps across your bare skin.

"Hm, well I do have to urinate..." He says, looking off into the distance in a sort of thoughtful way. Your face brightens, thinking he may end his show early and go to the bathroom... Then he'd fuck you silly, just how you like it.

"Really? Well then end the show!" You say, tugging on his coat. Though Alastor captures your wrists, placing them onto his shoulders.

"Now now, that wasn't what I was implying at all, fawn,"

Your eyes widen.

"Huh?"

"Stay still for me, hm?"

He presses his hands to your hips, pushing them down so your body's are completely connected at his cock. You shriek to yourself, realizing what he's about to do. Now you weren't going to object, no no, in your own way you were more excited than anything.

"Ah!"

Before you know it, with a sadistic gaze Alastor begins releasing his piss into your hole. You cry out, clasping your hands over your mouth as you lean back against the end of his desk. You can feel it all, warm and hot as it fills you to the brim. It tickles you in ways you can hardly imagine, making you see a myriad of twinkling stars as the liquid starts to seep from your full cunt.

And it just keeps coming, his cock twitching inside of you as it releases its last few spurts of urine into you. Alastor's pants are warm and soaked with his piss, but he doesn't make a move to take you off of his cock. Instead he just keeps you there, continuing his radio show whilst pretending that nothing happened at all.

"Alastor," you begin as he puts on another song. He hums in response. "You're all soaked.." You whine, pressing your hands to his soft and slimy tentacles.

He chuckles, pinching your cheek and watching you flinch. "Just how I like it, dirty. Now hush or I won't fornicate this full cunt with my seed, hm?"

You obey without a thought.

[j-jinxee]

Ooo can you write about about how Alastor would use restraints, he’d defo get turned on by how helpless reader would look when they’ve got a chain wrapped around them, with his need for control.

PRISONER ☆

TYPE - Alastor x Reader

WARNINGS - restraints/being tied up, semi public sorta?, ownership, swearing, oral receiving, humiliation.

authors note - tysm for requesting!! especially for Alastor hehehe, hope u like ittt >:)

----------------------------------------------------

That night came back to you every time you got pulled down by that fuckers chain. The most regrettable night of your life, you were so far gone you really thought he'd help you. Making any deal while you were drunk was a bad idea, but making a deal with the radio demon?? Even worse. He's made you do sickening things for him in the past, all things you never would've done if your soul wasn't on the line; but nothing that made your stomach turn quite like this one.

You made the mistake of confronting him right before he went on the air. That pissed him off enough, and thought you needed a reminder of who you belonged to. Hence why you're tied up in his radio tower, chain around your neck, and screaming his name for all of Hell to hear.

Alastor made you crawl up to his radio tower, him holding the chain, then tied you up with dark sorcery, and clicked "start broadcast".

"Hello my dear viewers! Hope you're having a grand evening. Today will be a little different to my usual style of broadcast, but I trust you'll enjoy it nonetheless" His voice turned scratchy and demonic towards the end, making you nervous for what was to come.

The only luminance in the tower was the faint glow of the red sky, and the shine of Alastor's eyes. You had no idea how many people were listening right now, or what was even going to happen, you just hoped no one could tell it was you.

You swore you could smell his arousal. It was rare, but you could tell he liked seeing you chained up. He never expressed any romantic feelings towards you, only savage, animalistic needs to over-power you. You let him have his way, since there was nothing you could do about it, but this? This was a little past your limit.

Your hands were behind your back, legs bent, and whole body hoisted up. You had no clue what happened to your clothes, they vanished off your body when the ropse appeard around you. Your neck was angled slightly up from the floor, enough to see a little out the window, but not enough to hurt. That's when you felt him.

You gasped abruptly as you felt his hot tongue on your clit, "Ah!" It took you by surprise - to say the least. You obviously wanted to hold back your moans in order to keep some dignity... but, holy fuck he was good.

It was like being chained up increased the pleasure, you swore it'd never felt this good before. His tongue made you squirm, but squirming hurt, especially when you held back. You thought you may aswell give him what he wants instead of agitating him even more.

"Mmm- Fuck! Alastor please"

"Please what my dear?"

You didn't even know what you were asking for, you wanted to say please stop, but you knew you couldn't, it felt too good.

"Pl- Ah! Please don't stop!"

Yeah real good fucken choice, beg him to keep going and see where that'll get ya.

The next thing you felt was his tongue diving deep into your core, fuck. You knew he'd be skilled, but this was on a completely different level.

"Ohhh, fuck! I'm- I'm gonna cum, ah!"

Your legs attempted to collide, obviously being held back by the rope. As Alastor felt your thighs start to shake, he only increased his pace, sending you over the edge. The coil in your stomach finally snapped, sending shivers throughout your whole body as you screamed Alastor's name for all of Hell to hear. Even if they weren't listening to the broadcast, they might’ve still heard you.

Your vision was blurry, your face was hot, and currents of pleasure still shot through your core like electricity. Alastor got up and made his way to the control panel, "I hope this is to your liking dear listeners! Because we're just getting started"

...you've gotta be fucking kidding.

----------------------------------------------------

Rlly rlly hoping u like thisss 🤞🏻 I think it's aight, I just love writing for Alastor tbh hehe. Cheers x

[multi-fandom-imagine]

adding to the vox love! how about some bondage action with his wires? hmmm?

A/n: i sm sorry if this sucks

You weren't quite sure how you ended up in this situation, wires bound your wrists and ankles. Vox hovering over you with a smirk on his face.

"Look how beautiful you look right now baby, his large hand caressed your hips for a moment though it slowly started to rise as he cupped your breast rubbing your nipple.

"Fuckin hate that you asked to be bound though, I love your legs wrapped around me."

His eyes danced with desire as he watched you squirm beneath him. His lips curled into a devilish smirk as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

"Fucking tease you are."he purred, his voice dripping arousal"Now, my good girl," he whispered huskily, his lips grazing against the sensitive skin of your neck. "You're all mine. Completely at my mercy." His fingers trailed down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "Part of me want's to broadcast this, those little sounds you make." Shaking his head, Vox shrugged off his. "But you're mine...this body, these tits and ass, they're all mine and know one else's."

Letting his hands leave your breasts, he then let them explore, mapping every inch of your body with precision and purpose. He delighted in the way your body writhed beneath his touch as your breath quickened with each teasing caress. His lips descended upon yours, claiming them with a hunger that matched his own. His tongue danced with yours, exploring the recesses of your mouth with an intoxicating mix of dominance and tenderness.

As his lips then left yours, he peppered a he let his tongue glide down your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands roamed freely, teasing and tormenting every inch of your exposed body.

A thought in the back of his mind, that he should just film him fucking you. That it would be just for him and you alone.

He loved it, every moment of this, he reveled in the sounds of your moans and gasps, relishing in the way you surrendered to his touch.

"You like being tied up, don't you, baby?" Vox growled, his voice like velvet and gravel."You love being at my mercy, so completely helpless."

His fingers then trailed lower, as they ghosted over your most sensitive areas, teasing but never quite giving you the release you craved. "Tell me, fucking tell me, how badly do you want me to fuck you? How badly do you want my cock deep inside your pussy, pounding you into oblivion?"

Vox's words were laced with a mix of possessiveness and desire, his voice low and rough with need. He knew just how to push your buttons, how to make you squirm and beg for more. And he intended to do just that, pushing you to the brink of pleasure before finally granting you the release you so desperately craved.

You let out a whine, arching your back off the bed. Tugging at the restraints, your eyes darkened with lust as you looked up at him with need.

"Please...please.I need you...I need your cock."

Vox's lips curled into a wicked smile as he watched you writhe beneath him, your plea only fueling his desire. He relished in the power he had over you, the control he held in this moment. His fingers trailed teasingly along your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your dripping core.

"Fuck,"he groaned out"You want my cock, don't you? You're craving to feel me deep inside you." His fingers brushed lightly against your slick folds, earning a gasp of pleasure from your lips. "But remember, my good girl, I'm in charge here. You'll get what you want, but only when I say so."

With deliberate slowness, Vox unzipped his pants freeing his hardened shaft, watching you he then positioned himself between your legs, his cock throbbing with need. He leaned down, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke in a low, husky voice.

"Tell me, baby," he whispered, his voice laced with a mix of dominance and desire. "Tell me how badly you want me. Beg for it. Beg for my cock." His fingers continued to tease your entrance, circling and stroking, but never giving you the fullness you craved.

You whimpered, your body arching towards him, desperate for release. "Please...please, Vox," you breathed, your voice filled with need. "I need you inside me. I need your cock to fill me up, to make me yours."

The words hung in the air, charged with raw desire. Vox's eyes darkened with lust as he finally gave in to both of your desires. He positioned himself at your entrance, his tip teasing your slick folds before he slowly, torturously, pushed himself inside you.

The sensation was electric, your bodies joining in a dance of pleasure and passion. Vox's thrusts were hard and deep, each one driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. His grip on your hips tightened, his pace quickening as he claimed you as his own.

"You're mine, Princess," he groaned, his voice laced with possessiveness. "No one else can have you like this. Only me. Only my cock can satisfy you." His thrusts grew harder, more urgent, as he chased his own release.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slapping of skin against skin. The tension built, spiraling higher and higher until it finally shattered, sending waves of pleasure crashing over both of you.

A deep groan escaped his lips as he released deep into your pussy clutching your hips tightly. Slowly pulling his cock from your warmth, untying the restraints you then curled into his chest.

As you lay there, breathless and spent, Vox then pressed a tender kiss against your forehead. "Mine...you're all mine....I finally have someone that is mine."

[redvexillum]

TAGS/WARNINGS: fingerf♡cking, dom/sub undertone, no established relationship, dub-con, f!reader, shadow f♡cking, power imbalance, gagging, bondage, asphyxiation, brat!reader, ♡verstimulation, alastor being a lil shit, b♡ndage, alastor makes reader into his lil b!tch lykyk

EXTRA WARNING: This is not a drabble. It is 3.9K words long.

Leaning back in your chair, you mirrored the unsettling grin that stretched across Alastor’s face. His grin, a sharp crescent of teeth, seemed to carve deeper into his cheeks. His eyes squinted just slightly – enough to glint with a darker, more ominous edge.  

You felt a spark of excitement ignite in your chest as you watched the subtle shift in his expression. It was a game to you now, one you’d become quite fond of.  

“My, my, I do feel awful that no one listens to your broadcasts anymore, Alastor,” you purred, your voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. You stretched your arms above your head lazily, as though you had all the time in the world.  

Ever since you’d come to the hotel, Charlie’s redemption exercises had left you with more downtime than you cared for, and boredom was your worse enemy. But now, you found entertainment in a much more thrilling pursuit – pushing the buttons of the ever-grinning, one and only, Radio Demon.  

A wicked thrill slithered down your spine when you noticed the faintest twitch of his left eye. His head tilted to the side, a glimmer of amusement – and perhaps annoyance – flickering behind his red-tinted gaze. He scoffed, the sound like static breaking through a radio, and muttered something about the “younger generation not appreciating the finer aspects of real entertainment.” 

As Alastor turned his head away, a shadowy movement caught your eyes. His shadow, usually a perfect reflection of him, rippled as if caught in a breeze that wasn’t there.  

And then…it shifted.  

The once-stoic silhouette frowned, its mass shrinking, folding in on itself like a chastised child. It looked almost…sad.  

Oh? Now, this was interesting.  

You’d never teased Alastor about his powers before, but this might just be the perfect opportunity. The idea of seeing him drop that ever-present, smug grin sent a delightful jolt of pleasure through you. Leaning forward, your grin spread wider, more mischievous than before.  

“You know, Alastor, I’ve noticed something quite fascinating about you. Your powers…quite the spectacle, aren’t they? Shadow magic, if I’m not mistaken?” You tilted your head, watching him intently.  

To your amusement, Alastor perked up at your words, his chest puffing out slightly, and a proud look took over his expression. He casually inspected his nails, playing into the flattery. “Ah, yes, indeedy! My abilities are rather unique – far beyond the capabilities of any other demon’s magic, I dare say –“ 

“It’s a pretty lame power,” you interrupted, smirking as you blew a raspberry. “I mean, shadow magic? Really? I’ve seen cooler tricks at a children’s birthday party.” You glanced pointedly at his shadow, which now seemed to shrink even more, trying to hide behind Alastor’s body. “Honestly, the TV demon has way better power. You ever see the stuff he can do? Now that’s impressive.” 

Alastor froze, and in that instant, the surrounding air grew thick and heavy. The room itself seemed to fall under a strange, unnatural stillness. Before you could blink, something cold and slick snapped across your lips, silencing you of any further quips. Your eyes widened as you struggled to move, but your limbs were no longer yours to command. Invisible tendrils of force held you pinned to the chair, your body stiff and unyielding. 

Alastor’s grin widened, impossibly so, and when he finally spoke, his voice was a low, vibrating hum that echoed through your mind.  

“My dear,” he cooed, leaning in just enough for you to feel the pressure of his very presence, “there are some games you don’t want to play with me.” 

You squirmed from the invisible restraint that rendered you mute and powerless. 

“What was that, dear?” Alastor’s voice dripped with venomous amusement; his eyes gleamed with a malicious red glint. His grin, too wide, illuminated in a sickly yellow glow, casting eerie shadows across his sharp features. Slowly, methodically, he tilted his head to the side, the crack of his neck echoing through the room like the snap of a dry twig underfoot.  

Your heart leapt in your chest, but you tried to maintain your composure. Glancing down at your hand, you noticed it trembling ever so slightly, a faint dark aura curling around your fingers like mist. When you looked back up, Alastor’s eyes were already locked on you, his grin didn’t falter, but the malice radiating from him was palpable, chilling the surrounding air.

“You’ve been so incredibly chatty before, and now…you’ve grown ever so silent!” His laugh was low, a dark melody of mockery as he leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed as if savouring the moment. “I’m surprised that you chose now to listen to your better!” His voice lifted into a higher, mocking pitch, echoing through the room like a twisted lullaby.  

A grunt of frustration left your throat as you tried to move, but your body refused to respond. The invisible force binding you to the chair seemed to tighten, and then you felt it – a whisper of a touch against the curve of your neck. It was impossibly soft, like the brush of a feather, but it sent a jolt of electricity racing down your spine, igniting every nerve it grazed.  

You clenched your teeth, eyes fluttering shut, fighting the small pitiful whimper building in your throat. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing your weakness – specifically, your erogenous zone, more like.

Tensing your muscles, your desperately tried to suppress your whimper as it clawed its way up your throat. But the second his voice crackled to life, sharp and sinister, that resolve began to crumble.  

“Interesting.” 

The single word dripped with dark amusement, and your eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. You stared at him, searching for answers in his glowing red eyes. Alastor grinned wider, basking in the silent panic flickering across your face.  

Before you could even process a single thought, you felt it again – that feather like touch, teasing just behind your ear. The cool, silky sensation slithered down the curve of your neck, and this time, there was no holding back the involuntary shudder that coursed through you. 

Your body betrayed you completely.  

As if the invisible binding loosened just enough, your lips were freed, but not in time to stop the soft, devastating moan that slipped past them. The sound hung in the air between you like a damning confession.  

“My, look at you,” Alastor purred, his voice a deep, honeyed tenor that sent a shiver of anticipation and want down your spine and penetrated into your core. Another caress – so gentle, so deliberate – skated across your hot, flushed skin. “Had I known this was all it took to get some peace and silence from you, I would have done it much sooner.” 

His words coiled around you, thick with smug satisfaction, as his eyes drank in the sight of your face contorting, torn between restraint and giving in to the sensations he was pulling from you.  

Summoning what little strength you had left, you glared at him through your lustful haze, the words, “fuck you,” barely managing to escape your trembling lips. The weak insult only seemed to heighten his amusement. His grin stretched wider, sharp teeth catching the dim light as he leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with twisted delight.  

“You claimed my power was useless,” he murmured, his voice suddenly cold, authoritative. “So, I suppose a demonstration is in order.” 

The way he loomed over you, despite sitting across from you with his gaze unyielding made you feel like a student caught misbehaving under the stern gaze of a teacher. His impassive expression only weighed in on your feelings of helplessness.  

“I’ll pass–ahhnn!” Your feeble attempt to reject him was cut off, morphing into desperate gasps as those silky tendrils glided lower. They traced a slow, torturous path down your chest, brushing against the sensitive tips of your nipples. Your breath hitched as you squirmed in the chair, thighs trembling in a vain attempt to close your legs as you were sure the evidence of your desire was staining the inner centre of your pants. 

“Now, now,” he crooned, his words laced with an almost affectionate mockery. “We’ve only just begun!” 

Alastor’s laughter was pure and unadulterated as he declared with a flourish, “Honestly, I want you to feel comfortable around me, my dear!” His voice rang out boisterously, and with a sharp snap of his fingers, that same invisible force pried your legs apart.  

You gasped, the air escaping you in ragged pants as the sensations assaulting your body intensified. The thick, musty air seemed to cling to your overheated skin, and every nerve felt as though it was ablaze, ignited by the unseen force caressing you. Your lips trembled as you bit down hard, trying – desperately – to stifle the moans bubbling up from deep within. Yet, your traitorous body, the slick heat pooling between your thighs, betrayed you in ways you could no longer control.  

The unforgiving hardness of the chair beneath you did nothing to ease the ache throbbing at your core. It only heightened your frustration. Somehow, despite the layers of fabric still clinging to your skin, this mysterious, phantom touch seemed to bypass everything – touching you as though you were stripped bare.  

Your nipples, painfully hardened, were being rubbed and pinched in ways that had your breath catching, your chest heaving as tears of desperation pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were perilously close to begging.  

“You see, my dear,” Alastor’s voice cut through the haze, mocking and sharp, “you must not fully grasp the extent of my power if you dare compare me to that lousy ‘picture box.’” He spat the words with a venomous disdain, his eyes narrowing. “Beg for my forgiveness, and perhaps I’ll show mercy.” His voice dipped into a low, dangerous whisper, dripping with dark intent.  

Your heart pounded in your ears, but something else caught your attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it – Alastor’s shadow, the one that had lurked behind him, was now slithering across the floor, positioning itself directly behind you. Its tendrils writhed, holding you firmly in place, while its grotesque grin loomed close, mirroring its master’s. The shadow’s presence was suffocating, overwhelming as its clawed hands slowly traced a path of pleasure down the front of your chest.  

“I…” You hesitated, trembling as those same spectral hands pinched your already sensitive nipples, somehow phasing through your clothes. Blood rushed to the tender tips, heightening your torment with drawn out pleasure. “I think – ah – it’s still pretty lame,” you challenged, arching a brow, your tongue flicking out to slowly trail along your lower lip, drawing Alastor’s attention.  

Alastor’s eyes darkened, pupils shrinking into narrow slits as he followed the motion of your tongue. His mouth twisted into a manic grin, and let out a wild, unhinged cackle. “I’ll never understand your generation’s needless stubbornness!” He declared, shaking his head in mock disbelief. 

In the blink of an eye, everything changed. The kitchen, the dim light – it all vanished. You were swallowed by darkness, an endless void that stretched in every direction. Yet, you remained seated in the same chair, surrounded by nothing. Your sight had been stolen from you, leaving you blind and disoriented.  

“Fascinating, wouldn’t you say?” Alastor’s voice rang out through the void, calm and calculated. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in your every movement, like a predator waiting for its prey to make one wrong misstep.  

“Ah!” You yelped, body jerking as something – a sensation like fingers – began rubbing against the slick folds between your legs. Despite the barrier provided by your clothes, the touch was undeniable, intimate, and invasive. Your legs were spread wide, leaving you completely vulnerable to the unseen force now exploring the wetness pooling there. The soft, wet sound of your own arousal filled the surrounding silence, intensifying the humiliation as your body responded without hesitation. 

Quick, shallow breaths escaped your lips as you squirmed, trying to find some way to relieve the relentless teasing. Yet, all you could feel was that luxurious, maddening touch, dipping and teasing, tracing the sensitive thick folds. The darkness amplified everything – the wet sounds, the shuddering moans you couldn’t hold back, and the ache that radiated from your core.  

You whimpered softly, the desperation clear in every breath, every twitch of your body. You wanted more – needed more – your throbbing clit practically screaming for attention, while your cunt begged for release.  

But all you had was Alastor’s voice, echoing through the endless dark, and the maddening, torturous touch that refused to give you the satisfaction you so desperately craved.  

The same shadowy appendages rubbed and rubbed, smooth and relentless, dipping into you right at the entrance, gathering your slick before gliding against your inner folds again. Your thighs trembled as you were forced into a shameful display, and you couldn’t bear to think about what expression you wore for Alastor now. Your hips instinctively jerking to grind against the shadowy fingers teasing your wet folds.  

“You know what to say, dear,” Alastor’s voice slithered into your ear, a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. In the darkness, with your body immobile, every whisper, every breath, every slick sound of Alastor’s shadow playing you amplified your vulnerable and aroused state. The contrast between the cool darkness and the peculiar warm touch of his shadow heightened your awareness, pushing you closer to the edge.  

Hot tears began to trickle down your cheeks, mixing with the heat of your embarrassment as the shadow’s caress shifted from teasingly light to an almost punishing pressure. It demanded more from your greedy, slick heat. Abandoning any pretense of pride, you let out a desperate whimper. “Please, I-I’m sorry,” you cried, your voice trembling in the oppressive silence. Only your head and neck were free from the shadow’s hold, leaving you breathless and exposed.  

“I’m sorry for saying your shadow power was lame,” you gasped, and your words were rewarded with a sudden fullness, the thick, unyielding digit pushing deep inside you, curling against your sensitive skin.  

“Oh, my, look at you,” Alastor said, his voice tinged with mockery. “Such a pretty mess you’ve made. Who would have thought this would be your undoing?” 

“Oh, God,” you moaned, your head thrown back in surrender, grateful to whatever fucking deity was listening for finally filling the emptiness that pulsed within you. “Ah, more, please, more,” you whimpered, emboldened by the darkness, free from the weight of his gaze – though you could almost feel it, a predatory presence looming over you, delighting in your plight.  

A sudden tearing sound made you gasp; your pants ripped at the seam, a cool breeze kissing your exposed skin, intensifying the slick warmth pooling between your legs.  

“Look at you, dear. You’re absolutely drenched, soaked your underwear right through! Hah!” Alastor chuckled, his voice a disembodied tease, echoing all around you. You couldn’t tell where he was anymore – behind you, beside you, or perhaps he hadn’t moved at all, still watching with that insufferably bored expression, like a spectator at a dull weather report.  

“S-sorry,” you moaned, the undeniable squelch of your arousal filling the air, shame mingling with pleasure as whatever was touching you coaxed out your need. You strained to see, but the darkness was absolute, leaving you only to imagine those shadowy appendages moving in and out of your wet, sopping cunt – a hypnotic rhythm that drove you wild.  

It felt incredible – so impossibly good – as the dexterous finger-like tendrils curled and pressed all the right spots, drawing you closer and closer to the precipice. You clenched your abdomen, desperate for release, but then the motion halted abruptly. The loss of sensation was cruel, leaving you painfully aching, yearning for that delicious stretch, for the pull and push of your inner walls.  

“Now, now, don’t be greedy,” Alastor purred, his tone dripping with mockery. “Patience is a virtue, or haven’t you learned that yet?” 

A snap echoed in the room, and your vision flooded with light. Across from you, just as you expect, sat Alastor, his ever-present grin splitting his face. Legs crossed, he watched with amusement flickering in his eyes. “Ah, sight isn’t the only thing I can take away, my dear,” he mused, voice dripping with sinister glee.  

Your mouth was stretched wide, forced open, as his shadow lingered beside you, its hand plunged into your mouth. Its slick fingers pressed down on your tongue, holding it captive. Humiliation gnawed at you as drool leaked from the corners of your lips, a slow trickle that dripped down your chin. The warm saliva cooled quickly against your skin, but the undeniable feeling of shame mingling with the hot, burning desire of pleasure consumed you.  

When your gaze flicked downward, you caught the sight of Alastor’s shadow. Its fingers danced over your swollen clit, moving in tight, calculated circles. The delicate touch was maddening as you felt it was just short of pushing you closer to the peak.  

A helpless moan slipped out, muffled by the fingers lodged in your mouth. The more Alastor’s shadow played with you, the more fluids spilled, your lips trembling as saliva and arousal dripped from your needy body.  

Unexpectedly, the shadow’s fingers plunged inside your slick heat, driving deep with unrelenting force. Your eyelids fluttered shut as another guttural moan vibrated around the intruding fingers in your mouth. Your throat strained with each breath, the effort of swallowing excess saliva adding to your torment. The lewd, wet sounds of your body being claimed filled the air – each thrust squelching with a vulgar intensity that only heightened your spiralling, intense desire.  

Alastor’s voice cut through the haze of pleasure and submission. “Beg for forgiveness, my dear,” he crooned, his tone mocking yet lilting, as though he were offering you something. “And perhaps, I may allow you to finish.” 

Your body craved release, teetering on the brink of orgasm, but the shadow's fingers stuffed in your mouth made coherent words impossible. You struggled to form even a basic plea, but all that escaped your lips were garbled moans and desperate, incoherent sounds. Your abdomen clenched, desperate – so fucking desperate – to reach your peak, but your hips remained pinned, unable to find the friction they needed.  

Your eyes darted to Alastor in panic, pleading silently. His grin split through his cheeks, as though relishing in your helplessness. “Oh dear, it seems you don’t really want it after all,” he sighed with a mock expression of disappointment, his voice laced with dark amusement.  

A fresh wave of frustration swirling with anger and desperation ripped though you as you continued to teeter at the edge, unable to tumble over. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and soon they streamed down your face, joining the cooling drool that stained your chin. You moaned incoherently around the shadow’s fingers, your voice trembling with need.  

Alastor’s eyebrows raised, his tone exaggerated with surprise. “Well, aren’t you a lucky one? It just so happens I’m in quite a generous mood!” His tone continued its uplifting beat, matching his exterior joviality.  

As if on cue, the fingers left your mouth, but before you could gather your breath, you felt a tight pressure coil around your neck. It squeezed, slow and purposeful, cutting off your airflow inch by damning inch. Panic shot through you as you gagged for air, your pulse hammering in your ears. Alastor’s shadow grinned, its face looming beside yours as it continued to relentlessly fuck you with its fingers. They moved with vicious intent, plunging deep into your walls, hitting every sensitive spot, each stroke sending your body reeling.  

Your vision began to blur, dark spots forming at the edges as your head swam with lightheadedness. The air refused to fill your lungs, the tightness around your throat unbearable, until suddenly – release. A flood of oxygen rushed in to your body at the same time the shadow’s fingers curled deliciously inside you, pressing against your g-spot with merciless precision.  

The orgasm hit you like a crashing wave. A raw scream tore from your throat, mixing with sobs as pleasure washed over you in undulating waves. Your body convulsed, trembling uncontrollably as the shadow’s fingers never relented, still thrusting, still curling, keeping you locked in the agonizing cycle of ecstasy. 

“Ahhhh…fu-ahhhh!” You sobbed, the pleasure too much, too intense. Your clit throbbed painfully, swollen and oversensitive, and the shadow’s fingers began to slap at it – hard, wet slaps that sent sharp bursts of pain rippling through the pleasure. It was endless. The overwhelming sensation of being pushed beyond your limit clouded your thoughts, a jumble of pain, of pleasure, and of torment.  

“Aren’t I generous?” Alastor asked, his voice heavy with mockery. He watched your body writhed and twitch beneath his control. “Let’s see how many times I can make you break, hm?” 

The moment Alastor uttered his final words, his shadow’s fingers drove back into you – three of them this time – curling deep inside your weeping cunt. They moved fast, a blur of relentless thrusts that tore another orgasm from your exhausted body. You gasped for breath, the feeling being stretched and filled too much, your mind going blank from the overload.  

“A-ah, to-too much,” you managed to cry out, though your body remained stiff and unmoving, helpless against the hold Alastor’s shadow had on you. Your cunt clenched tightly around the dexterous fingers, your core pulsing as the shadow showed no mercy, working your sensitive spots with precision.  

And then – hot and wet – his shadow’s tongue trailed up the back of your ear, the same spot that had started it all. It licked and sucked at your skin, the obscene sounds filling your ears, mingling with the squelching from your dripping cunt. You could feel the puddle forming beneath you, the wetness between your legs soaking the seat. Your body trembled, your mind teetering on the brink as you felt yourself nearing the edge again.  

Just as the pressure built, a sharp pinch at your raw nipple jolted you, sending you hurtling into another orgasm. This time, no sound escaped you – your scream was swallowed by the force of the release. Your body convulsed, jerking with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you, until you were nothing more than a quivering, wet, mess.  

As the shadow’s grip loosened, your body collapsed forward, slumping against the cool tiles. The cold surface was a sharp contrast to the burning heat of your overstimulated skin. Your entire body continued to tremble, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you. Your tongue lolled out as it took everything you had to continue to breathe despite the shameful display of drooling like a dog by Alastor’s feet.  

“Now then,” Alastor’s voice chimed in brightly, his polished shoes the only thing in your line of sight as he stood before you. “I do hope you’ll clean up after yourself. This may be a hotel, but our complimentary brunch is self-service, after all.” He laughed, a sound filled with genuine mirth, before his body melted into the shadows.  

The ends of your lips twitched upwards, your body still shivering as you felt the cool slide of your arousal dripping out from the apex of your thighs. You could still feel the lingering touch of his shadow still imprinted on your body.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[paulmccart]

We're Not Gonna Take It! And the Story of How We Almost Did

Protesters outside of the PMRC senate hearings.

Are you a victim of rock? Well maybe you aren't, but all the way back in 1985 a group of prominent D.C wives felt that they were.

These women, with the help of Beach Boys member Mike Love and Joseph Coors, the owner of Coors Beers, formed the PMRC (Parents Music Resource Center).

Their reasoning for forming as co-founder Susan Baker put it:

"It started because one day my 7-year-old came in and started quoting some of Madonna's lyrics to me, wanting to know what they meant. And I was shocked. I knew that you had to be concerned about movies and TV, but I didn't have a clue that my 7-year-old would be exposed to inappropriate songs."

The goal of the PMRC was to give parents more control over what their children could listen to. As well as implementing a rating system for music with bad language, sexual themes, and anti-Christian messages just to name a few. Eventually the group made a list of the fifteen worst songs, in their opinion and labeled them "The Filthy Fifteen".

(And it also happens to make a killer playlist)

Besides a rating system and lyrics printed on album covers the PMRC had several other goals including:

"...records with explicit covers be wrapped or kept under the counter; that record companies reassess contracts with performers who engage in sexual or violent acts on stage; that broadcasters be pressured to exhibit "voluntary restraint" by not airing offending music videos, which would also be rated."

All that noise coming from the PMRC culminated on September 19th, 1985. When a hearing in the senate occurred. Two musicians were called in on behalf of the music industry, Frank Zappa and Dee Snider of Twisted Sister. Two of musics most studious and serious creatives.

Zappa and Snider both gave eloquent defenses of what they deemed to be free speech.

But the PMRC had a trick up their sleeves... or so they thought.

They'd also invited John Denver to speak that day, assuming that he would stand with the side of "family values" but they were mistaken.

John Denver's testimony was the most scathing that day. He cited his own experience with having some of his music banned from radio. Even going as far as comparing the PMRC and groups like it to Nazi book burnings.

So what did the PMRC end up accomplishing? You know those tiny explicit labels in the corner of some albums? You can thank the PMRC for those. When they were originally introduced they were called "Tipper Stickers" after one of more outspoken PMRC members Tipper Gore (wife of Al Gore).

So while we didn't exactly take it, for a time we almost did. And thanks to testimony from Frank Zappa, John Denver, and Dee Snider, we can regularly enjoy any kind of music we want to- even the songs that promote the occult.

Both photographs come from Mark Weiss who photographed the event for Rock Scene Magazine.

[odiesdayoff]

Kinktober: Jonathan Crane

Pair: Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary: Gotham's more of a nightmare than it used to be and Crane has his sights on you.

Warnings: On the tin. NON-CON (Kidnapping/Restraints/Leashes/Collars/Breeding)

You poured a fresh whiskey into a short glass over ice cubes, then pushed it to another faceless man sitting at the bar. Lights were flashing and the music was a bit too loud for your liking, but money was money and the protection that the job gave you was probably the only reason you were still a free woman.

The knock on the counter brought you from your serving-induced stupor. Oswald Cobblepot. “Hey, sweetheart. Need you to work a double tonight.” He pushed aside the man drinking the whiskey.

“Tonight? Isn’t Stacey scheduled after me?” You washed the shaker cup and placed it upside down to dry. As much as you needed the money, you’d much rather get home before it got too dark and monumentally more dangerous for you.

He sighed, reaching over the counter and pouring some of the whiskey into a free glass. “Got collared. Don’t know when or if she’ll come back.” Of course, the number one reason for the girls leaving the job. Two weeks ago, the bar staff and performers totaled 50. It was now 27.

You instinctively pursed your lips and took a deep breath. The thought of what she might’ve been going through was bad enough, but the reality was the truly horrifying part. Your freedom was slightly stealth, but mostly luck. “By who?”

“Firefly. I should have you all escorted home before these schlemiels steal all my girls.” He finished his drink and slammed it against the counter. “Eh, too much money.”

A few more men sat around the bar while he walked away. Of course he was not one to waste his money on something that actually protects his staff. Too busy spending it on drops and whatever other drugs that he can sell to his customers.  Asshole. 

Acts as if he doesn’t have a girl collared in his house. You’ve seen her once or twice. She’s pretty, but it was clear that he did a number on her before parading her around the club. “What the hell is wrong with this city?” One of the men finally asked as you handed him a dry martini.

“What isn’t wrong with it?” You grumbled under your breath, starting on the Manhattan for another one of the men. 

They laugh, a bit too loud. Clearly, this wasn’t the first bar they’d been to tonight. “No, seriously. Got mugged twice and we’ve only been here two days. All the women are on fucking leashes. Or people fucking out in the open.” He took a long sip of his drink, looking around at the debauchery still happening around the bar.

“You know how most cities have a hero? Ours was killed. Chaos ensued.” You mixed the drink, shaking the bottle. “Basically, they made a whole set of rules that give absolute control to those who fought Batman. Territory, people…you get it.”

The day that the Batman died was something you’d never forget, as if it was your life stopped at that moment the news broadcast was shown on every screen in the city. Nobody thought the Joker would be able to do it. Both Batman and the Joker were natural enemies, bound never to end their feud. 

Some say it was a mistake. But the second it happened, he had his plan to create chaos and eventually, everyone else followed suit. Just as his (somewhat) partner in crime, Harley Quinn, was planning on leaving him, he locked her onto him. With the same collar she used for her pets.

He let all of the inmates of Arkham escape, taught them the new rules, and everybody else had to play catch up or try to get out of the city as fast as possible. Especially after the mayor fell. Bella Reál was ambushed in her office by the newly escaped Riddler. Nobody has seen her since.

It felt like the shift lasted forever, but you appreciated the extra tips from the more drunken customers wishing they could fuck you and knowing they couldn’t. It was raining when you stepped outside, through the back where nobody could see. You threw your hood over your head and ran in the direction of your apartment.

It was well known that it was more dangerous than normal for a woman to be out at night. More likely to get caught by a man with a little bit of power under his belt. You were cutting through the alley right outside of your apartment when someone grabbed your arm.

The man yanked you back and pushed you against the wall. “Well, well, well. It’s been a while since I saw a free woman that was this gorgeous.”

His face was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Your panicked state overrides facial recognition. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I have nothing to give you.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if you told a joke. “Let me tell you a bit about me. I fought the Bat more than you can imagine, which gives me more than enough of a right to pin you down and take what I want." His hand cupped your cheek and a finger glided across your quivering lips. "I pride myself as a man with class, so I'm going to take you home, give you a nice meal, then I'm going to shove my dick in you."

You fought against him, though he barely showed his struggle to keep you still. "You're really going to make me do this?" He rolled his eyes and reached into the briefcase-like bag around his shoulder. He pulled out a small leather collar, swiftly bringing it over your head and slipping it onto your neck.

The tightness of the collar restricted your breathing enough to stop you from struggling to save air and he wrapped the connecting leather strap around his hand. "There you go. Now you're on a leash. Happy?"

You spat at him. "No! I'm not fucking happy!"

He tugged at the leash, effectively pulling you to the black car that waited on the curb right outside of the alleyway's opening. You wondered how long he'd been preparing for this moment. How long he knew who you were.

~~

In the defense of Jonathan Crane, he did try to give you a nice dinner. The man cuffed you to a chair and made small talk as he cooked, then fed the meal to you. Of course, you refused it. Nothing could get you to accept this life, no matter how legal it was now.

His rough hands dragged you from the chair to the neatly made bed and he pushed you on your stomach, climbing on top of you.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, slut." He whispered hoarsely into your ear as he pulled the clothes from your body. The fabric of his pants dragged against your skin and the outline of his erection was unavoidable. "Get on your fucking hands and knees."

You had no choice but to obey, afraid of whatever he could do. Other than the obvious. He teased your opening with his leaking tip, then pushed into you without warning. His groans of pleasure drowned out the whimpers and cries coming from you.

He wasted no time in fucking you, taking what he wanted as he called it. His thrusts were hard and full of need. When was the last time he'd done something like this with someone else? Had he ever?

He wrapped the leash around his hand and pulled so that your head was up and facing the headboard. You choked, not that he showed any concern. "Bet you're used to this, huh? Leaving that club every day?"

He slapped your ass with his free hand. "Those days are over. You'll be my little housewife. Cook my meals. Wet my cock. Have my children."

He sped up, desperately chasing his high. He whimpered and laid his chest against your back, pushing himself as far as he possibly could. That's when you felt it. That overwhelming warmth inside of you that you knew could only be one thing.

"Don't think it's over now. Still have to make sure it sticks."

[prince-liest]

I want it on record that if I were to ever write radiostatic omegaverse, I'd probably make Alastor an omega for the funsies. BUT.

Vox would be a beta, and he would have a complex about it the approximate size of Vee fucking Tower. Does anybody else think that the Radio Demon is obviously the pentagram's most desirable omega? No, that's insane. However, so is Vox.

Alastor couldn't actually give less of a fuck if he actively tried, but it's a vulnerability, so he needles Vox about it a few times at first. He quickly stops when he realizes that regardless whether they are in any actual relationship at a particular point in time, Vox has apparently more or less imprinted Alastor as his omega (annoying, stupid, untrue), and mocking him for not being an alpha just makes Vox more overbearing than the most obnoxious alpha on the planet. Valentino is out here telling Vox to maybe chill out a little bit.

It's barely even sexual after a certain point. Alastor at least kind of gets that Vox is a horny degenerate, but why the hell is he leaving him increasingly elaborate and possessive weekly gifts on his station's doorstep like a cat would leave an animal carcass? At least if it was an actual animal carcass, it would be useful for that night's dinner. Alastor is not sure what he's supposed to do with a......"VoxTek E-Z-Nest! Just add pheromones!" Hold on, has this already been opened?

Valentino, on the other hand, is an actual alpha—which is why Vox does NOT take his "Um, calm down?" very well. He's just being condescending! Val's a prick! He doesn't understand!!!! Bonus for a 7-second period of insanity when he's momentarily convinced Val is looking at Alastor, at which point Valentino taps out of the situation because fuck that, honey, come back when you need him to fuck some sense into you but otherwise leave him out of this.

Alastor's heats aren't even, like. Like that. He mostly just gets antisocial, kills a few things, and then locks himself in his room for a moderately uncomfortable week to plan his broadcast schedule. But fuck if Vox doesn't have that shit calculated down to the day on his schedule planner, and spends the whole week unsubtly pacing the perimeter of the hotel with his spy drones, driving himself crazy imagining what alpha Alastor must be fucking, and lasering any poor actual alpha (that isn't already a resident under Princess Morningstar's protection) that gets within three blocks of the place from orbit. VoxTek stocks always take a bit of a dive around that time.

Things that do not help: Alastor not actually discouraging this specific behavior, because, hey. He doesn't want any alphas around, either.

It's really just a matter of what breaks down first: the remaining dregs of Vox's common sense as pertaining to Alastor, Alastor's ability to find this whole thing deeply humorous, Charlie's self-restraint in not staging an intervention, or Vaggie's absolute last fucking nerve.

[sloptimustoptimus]

Energon Megatron X Reader

NSFW 18+ ONLY

LAST SURVIVOR

__________________________

You're the last one left. The Decepticons have taken ocean city and Megatron has chosen to keep you alive to reward himself for his hard work.

__________________________

Head pounding, vision blurry, you came to in the autobot control room in ocean city; the cold metal of the floor a stark contrast to your building anxiety as your eyes darted around the room. It started flooding back to you when you noticed SnowCat and Demolisher in the corner giggling at you lying defenceless with your hands tied: the Decepticons had taken the city, Optimus was off-world with most of the autobots leaving you with a small crew, none of whom you could see in the room with you.

The live feed which was broadcast from the large screen that sat at the front wall of the room was still running, maybe the Autobots were on the way to get you out of this if they could see the situation unfolding wherever they were.

They weren’t able to help you right now though, as you could hear heavy footfall approaching the control room. Megatron.

The Decepticons in the room quickly straightened up as their leader came into view, he was imposing, towering blue frame dwarfing his subordinates and glaring yellow optics darting between Demolisher and Snowcat, prompting them to leave. You began to strain against the wire holding your hands together, a lump forming in your throat as you imagined what was coming to you. Tears began to sting in your eyes knowing you would be meeting your end today.

“Now, now, human. I’m not going to extinguish you.” He boomed from the control panel, staring you down, “I only require something from you. And who knows, if you comply I might just let you walk free…” his tone was sickly sweet, he was clearly enjoying the suspense he was creating.

“I don't have any information for you, Megatron” You spat, assuming the Decepticon leader was after access codes or autobot intelligence, “you may as well kill me now and get it over with” defeated, you stopped fighting your restraints, only hoping the pain you were going to endure would be quick. Approaching you slowly, Megatron let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh no no no, small thing, that's not what I want at all! You see, I’ve taken my time extracting everything I need from your Autobot friends, they were ever so useful”. He stopped as close to you as he could be without having crushed you under him, his optics dark, observing you intently. Looking around in the hopes you would see the rest of your crew, Megatron began to laugh again, “Don’t bother. They can’t help you now”.

Noticing a glint in his gold optics, your heart sank, realising your friends had been extinguished, you were all alone at Megatron’s mercy… and if you weren’t mistaken, he was after something much more personal than information.

“Please, Megatron, don’t do this, you’ll kill me. You know it'll kill me-” Begging for a more dignified death than being split open by a Cybertronian’s spike, using your legs to push yourself away from him.

“Stupid creature, is that what the autobots have told you? They're classless, they interface like animals, but me?” he trailed off, velvet voice hanging in the air as if he were considering ways to bring you round before resorting to force, “I promise you’ll survive. You may even enjoy yourself-”

“Enjoy myself!? After you’ve just decimated our home?” anger taking you over, heat rising to your cheeks as you berated him.

Cutting you off, Megatron lifted you off the cold ground, his large servos holding your body painfully tight as you squirmed in his grip. Your eyes widened as you realised what was happening: Megatron was striding towards the live feed’s main camera stopping mere feet away from it. He knew full well that every autobot on or off world had access to the feed 24/7, too and they were all about to bear witness to what you would be reduced to.

Unable to resist with your hands tied, Megatron made quick work of removing your clothes, ripping the fabric as to ensure he wouldn't have to set you loose. He held you up in front of the screen, working one warming servo down the front of your body, exploring every inch with hard grabs and pinches, making you wince, until he got down to your upper thighs. He took harsh handfuls of the soft skin, the pain making you yelp and hiss, giving him exactly what he wanted.

Before you could process the heat flushing your cheeks, megatron had brought a large finger to your entrance, teasing at it, feeling how wet you were already under his rigorous touch. Bringing his mouth down to your ear, he let out a low hum, almost as if to let you know you were pleasing him. “You know our dearest viewers can see what a mess you're making for me already?” He laughed into the question, watching the embarrassment of knowing that someone was watching on your face morph into excitement and back again.

“Please-” Your breaths already short, “Just put it in”

“How impatient!” Megatron’s tone was mocking, and it was working for you “but if you insist, it only means I can take you sooner”

With that he finally began to slide his forefinger into you, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.

You threw your head back, giving in to the feeling. Besides, there was nothing you could do about it. Seeing this, Megatron increased his pace to try and get even more of a reaction out of you, your moans only just covering the quiet hiss of him releasing his spike.

“Such a good girl,” he snickered “I never would have guessed you’d be so easy to break”

Praising your cooperation to the live feed, who could see everything from your eyes rolling to the puddle forming in megatron’s palm, he decided to let you enjoy yourself for a little longer, his sick degradation bringing you closer and closer until you feel yourself begin to finish on his hand, breathing shallow and legs quivering.

“Oh is that good? Hm?” He slowed his movements, but you could only let out an affirmative groan in response. “I asked you a question, human. How dare you deny me an answer.” There was genuine annoyance rising in his voice, so you mustered up an answer for him as not to cut your enjoyment (or life) short “y- yes… so… so good”.

“That wasn't so difficult now, was it?” Megatron’s optics shifted between your shaking form and the screen as if to acknowledge whoever sat watching on the other end of the feed.

Retracting his finger from inside you, he lowered you down ever so slightly. You jolted in surprise at feeling his spike fully pressurised beneath you, slick with transfluid already. Without so much as a grunt, Megatron began to work his way into you with an excruciatingly gradual pace, stretching you slowly around him and making you scream with both pain and want. It felt so good despite the agony, your wails now filling the room entirely as he ran out of space inside you. Barely half of him fit into your tight hole, but he didnt seem perturbed at all, he simply moved his grip to your thighs, your knees now spread, level with your chest.

You were utterly helpless, sitting on Megatron’s spike, screaming. All while under the watchful eye of every autobot crew with access to the signal.

His movements were relentless and calculated, hitting you at the perfect angle with every thrust of his hips, he seemed not to tire at all from the exertion which led you to wonder how long this was going to go on for exactly… Hours? Days, even? Megatron’s moans are low, filled with want as he begins leaving bites up and down your delicate neck, the pain only serving to amplify the sensation of his spike inside you.

“Oh how pathetic, it seems you really will let me do anything to you so long as you get your little hole fucked” Megatron was now musing to himself between guttural sounds of appreciation, getting lost in the sensation of such a tight body.

Snapping the both of you back to reality was a loud notification on the control panel. Someone was watching for sure now. Embarrassment flooding your body, it only drove you closer to finishing once more as your captor leaned forward to dismiss the message. As he does, one servo leaves your thigh dangling, moving to your throat after the control panel.

“‘how does it feel to have an audience like this? Everyone knows how little it takes to use you like this, and I bet they will the moment they get the chance”

With that you released again, gushing onto Megatron's spike and the floor below and leaving a clear puddle beneath you both. The angle he had you held at meant you had definitely splashed the main lens of the camera, not that he cared now. The sight of you so undone on his huge spike sent him feral, holding you flush to his torso with one clenching servo, and supporting himself on the control panel with another, your legs swinging with every thrust as he started twitching inside you, ready to finish himself. Megatron’s moans now matched your own as he drew closer to his overload, growling into the nape of your neck as he gripped your small body harder. And harder.

“You're going to take it, human,” He sounded desperate, “All. Of. It.” his words punctuated by the movement of his hips, taking the breath out of your lungs as he coated your walls with his transfluid, warm and thick, too much for your body to hold.

“Yeeeeeeeeees,” he groaned, the tension in his giant body dissolving with every slowing thrust. Your eyes trailing down to your own thighs, now covered in his release which was dripping into your own on the floor.

Panting and shaking you look once again at the feed monitor, entirely spent, at least you could go free now, maybe find a way to convince the autobots you hated every second of it despite the flush of tired bliss that washed over your skin and every sound you made as he was still deep inside you.

Your hands still bound, you struggled to move as your aching legs begged for support but Megatron seems to notice this; lifting you slowly off of his emptied spike, causing more of his transfluid to splash on to the metal flooring, the sound echoing throughout the empty room.

“Is..” you panted, “is it over Megatron?”

“Oh you silly thing, I’ve barely begun to have my fun with you”

__________________________

This is a repost from my AO3 and people seemed to like it over there, so let me know what yall think!

Part 2 below!

Edit: doing some drawing inspired by thic fic so stick around hehehe

[bearw-me]

Could I request headcannons of the Hazbin Hotel Crew/Staffs Reactions to a batman or moon knight like hero appearing in hell and somehow drastically taking down its crime. (Let's just say they got the information from the news or something)

i didn't know you could request in blue (cutee) and also: AWESOME request!

𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐕𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𐐒 ft : gender neutral!reader, charlie morningstar, alastor, vaggie, angel dust, nifty, husk, sir pentious. katie killjoy mentioned 𐐒 cw : none 𐐒 summary : the news broadcast of a hero in hell is finally being covered, you figured it wouldn't take that long for gossip to spread. . . and it reaches all the way up to the hotel 𐐒 note : tried a format swap! is. . . is it working? + the reader IS gender neutral, only nifty and angel make their typical jokes (plz have mercy on me)

It wouldn't take long for you to show up in the news. Wrapping up your knuckles with medical tape while the television droned on in the background. You listen absentmindedly, occasionally flexing your fingers to see if you still had the ability to move them in the temporary restraints.

And that's when you hear it:

"Local denizens of hell have been reporting unusual sightings of a so-called 'hero' that has appeared in hell."

You glanced over your shoulder, the blue glow of the television screen the only light source in the room.

Katie Killjoy rambled on about a local crime ring falling, a thing you took care of not-so-quietly last night.

There were shadowy pictures of you plastered all over the screen, obnoxious 'eye-catching' titles and arrows surrounding the images.

You sighed, turning away from the gossip and focusing on tacking the medical tape down firmly to your wrist.

It wouldn't be long before all of hell was wondering: what was happening?

Charlie Morningstar! watches the broadcast with her mouth ajar, and when its abruptly cut out she squeals! She's so excited others are motivated to improve hell and are actually helping out! She's definitely someone to see the good in you first. Especially when the broadcast depicts the steady decline of crime in that area of Pentagram city. This is such a good sign!

Alastor! Walks in on everyone staring at the screen. Hates that the tv is on, but watches with interest at the headlines, head cocking to the side so he can be sure he's hearing this correctly. 'Hero'. Is that what they were calling you? He doesn't know what to think of it, but it sure is interesting enough to wonder about you and look into it further. How entertaining.

Vaggie! Is skeptical, she's watching with her arms crossed and brows narrowed, even when the numbers and stats are read out-loud. Maybe the hosts or the channel needed something to broadcast and spiked the numbers. . . or your an aspiring overlord looking for fame and fortune down here. Whatever you're up to, she's sure it can't be out of the goodness of your heart.

Angel-Dust! Is probably lounged on the couch next to Charlie and Vaggie, raising an eyebrow at the news. He makes a joke about how he loves a man in uniform. . . or a mask. Definitely watching how that suit fits you, but he's also a little weary, no matter how hot you are, he (like everyone else watching) doesn't know what to really make of you just yet.

Nifty! Stopped her obsessive cleaning to see what all the commotion is about. Eventually she weaves her way up to the tv screen and stares at your caped image with a sinister smile "Ooh a bad boy!" She genuinely likes how unconventional you are. She'd like to meet you.

Husk! Is watching from over everyone's heads, taking a sip from his flask and listening in instead of gossiping with everyone. He's seen hells hierarchy and the way things work out down here. He's not sure what to make of it. . . but he is interested 'to each their own'. Husk definitely wants to watch or listen out for more though.

Sir Pentious! Slithers up to the couch and starts complaining. He was just on the news! He should've been the one on the broadcast in some amazing story! But when everyone finally manages to shush him and keep listening, he gets all sparkly-eyed at the heroic story that seems to be unfolding before him. Quietly thinks you're really cool and ends up your biggest fan. Especially if you have gadgets and stuff you built yourself!

[tired-and-ticklish]

Broadcast Interference

Disclaimer: This is a tickle fic, so if that isn’t your thing, then just ignore this. 

Summary: Vox and Alastor’s rivalry is no secret to anyone. What is a secret is the more… interesting ways they deal with each other

TW: Tickling (Intense, seriously), Swearing, Restraints, Drinking, Vox and Alastor are both Bastard Men, Mentions of Cannibalism

Idea inspired by this post by @coolbananas143

Really, everyone should have expected this sooner or later. A rivalry like Vox and Alastor’s doesn’t just stick to insulting each other via radios and television screens. No, at some point, it gets physical, and it’s better for everyone to just stay out of their way. Thankfully, the residents of the Hazbin Hotel had unintentionally done just that.

It was no secret that the Television Overlord spied on basically everyone in Pentagram City, and the Hazbin Hotel was no exception. Sure, at first the monitoring could be chalked up to either “it’s just what Vox does” or “He’s watching the hotel to keep track of Angel for Val.”, but upon learning the Radio Demon had returned from a seven year absence to just throw himself into Charlotte Morningstar’s passion project, well, Vox couldn’t stop monitoring the hotel.

He had waited for the perfect opportunity, one where no one else besides Alastor would be at the hotel. Sure, Vox would have loved a captive audience to his triumph over that old-timey prick, but all in good time. He wanted all of Hell to see just who was in charge, and that would only happen when he found a way to record Alastor without the Radio Demon distorting the video. For now, however, this would do.

Alastor was going to be alone. The Princess had decided on another little ‘bonding excursion’, and as predicted, the Radio Demon had declined to go, most likely finding it beneath him. Ah, how that ego of his would be Alastor’s undoing. After making sure everyone else had left, Vox zapped himself through to the camera closest to the hotel, landing right in front of the doors.

‘You’re in for quite the surprise, you old-timey prick!’ The TV Thought as he entered the hotel.

—

Alastor knew something had been wrong ever since Charlie and the others left. He wasn’t alone in the hotel, much to his annoyance. The Radio Demon had been hoping for one day where he could be uninterrupted, but this was Hell and that was wishful thinking. In hindsight, he should have sent his shadows to see who dared infiltrate the hotel, but he was the Radio Demon, he could take care of any lowlife sinners who tried to deface or destroy the hotel.

What he hadn’t been expecting was Vox, looking like he had been waiting for Alastor. That pompous, sorry excuse for an Overlord had made himself at home, even pouring himself a drink from Husk’s bar. How he ate and drank wasn’t something Alastor wanted to question, what he wanted to know was why Vox had dared to step foot into the hotel.

“Just wanted to see what was keeping you so busy.” Vox responded casually, deliberately reaching over the bar instead of going around it, just making a mess. “There’s so much tacky fucking circus decor in here, is that what little princess Morningstar is running? A circus?”

“I can assure you, they were not my doing.” Alastor growled, his already thin patience for the TV wearing down further. “It’d be best for both of us if you left. With all your limbs still attached.”

“Try me, old man.” Vox dared.

“I would say I’ve been dying to eat you, but I’d rather not expunge my guts today!”

Insults soon turned to assaults, a bottle flying at the Radio Demon. Tendrils spawned from the ground, making a grab at the TV Overlord, but Vox had learned from their last fight. The two scuffled for some time, Alastor only feeling slightly bad for the damages to the hotel, considering that would make more for Niffty to clean.

‘Not to mention how cross Husker will be when he finds the bar raided and destroy-’ That one train of thought was Alastor’s undoing.

The wires from the hotel’s TV ripped out of the wall, ensnaring the Radio Demon. They wrapped around his arms, pulling them taut and upward, before wrapping around his waist and legs, so he couldn’t kick his way out. Try as he might, he couldn’t get free, growling as the TV came closer to his face.

“Look at you, trapped like the helpless animal you are.” Vox grinned, leaning in close, only for Alastor to try to smash his head into the TV Screen.

“I’ll show you helpless when I tear all your limbs off and devour them in front of you!” Alastor snarled, trying to pull himself free as Vox walked around him.

“You need to relax.” Vox hummed, dragging a claw down Alastor’s side slowly.

He had meant for it to hurt, but what he hadn’t expected with the Radio Demon stiffening, and biting his lip. Vox hummed at this discovery, repeating the action, which in turn caused Alastor to try to pull away. The TV couldn’t contain his excitement, he recognized all the signs thanks to working closely with Valentino and Velvette. He recognized them from having helped bring Angel Dust to tears a few times.

“You’re fucking ticklish?!” The amount of pure joy and malice in his voice didn’t escape Alastor. “This is too good!”

“It would be in your best interest if you forget all of this and release me this instance if you value your-” Whatever threat the Radio Demon was about to make was cut off by the feeling of Vox’s claws on his hips, scratching and digging into them.

“You’re not the one in control right now, are you~?” Vox teased. “No, you’re at my mercy, so watch your tongue.”

“Ihihihih’d tehehehell yohohohou to bihihihite meheheh, but yohohohou’d enjohohohoy that!” Alastor was pushing him, he knew that, but he wasn’t about to let the TV Overlord think for one second he wasn’t in control!

“Alright, keep pushing your luck.” Vox mused, moving his hands up Alastor’s sides. “I can do this aaallll day~”

Alastor tried once again to get away from the TV Overlord, his laughter going up an octave as Vox got closer to his ribs. He needed to get out of this situation before the bastard found his worst spots. The Radio Demon was sure his pride wouldn’t survive the taunts and teases that would be sure to follow.

“Let me guess, since you’re a cannibal, this is your favorite spot~?” Vox hummed, digging into Alastor’s ribs and grinning as the deer let out a squeal.

“Iihihihi’ve beehhehehen tihihihickled behehehetter bhihihihiihy thehehehe wihihihihnd!” Alastor was hoping if he got Vox angry enough, he’d drop his guard and that would give him the chance to escape.

“Ohoh, now you’re asking for it you prick!” Vox growled, his eyes scanning over the Radio Demon. There had to be a spot that would have him begging for mercy, and, as Vox noticed Alastor’s ears flicking, he got a wicked idea. “I’m getting bored of this spot anyway.”

His hands were removed from Alastor’s ribs, much to the deer’s relief. That respite was short-lived, however, as he noticed Vox looking at his ears. Before he could even threaten the TV, his ears were being scratched and rubbed, tickling the Radio Demon to no end. He couldn’t hold back anymore, pride be damned!

“FUHUHUHUCK NOHOHOHOHOH!” Alastor squealed. “CEHEHEHEHEASE AHAHAHAHT OHOHOHOHONCE!”

“Oh, that spot got you screaming quickly!” Vox sounded positively ecstatic about this discovery. “Wonder how long it’ll take before you’re a crying mess.”

“NEHEHEHEHEVER!”

“Never?” Vox chuckled, beginning to emit small, harmless shocks from his claws. “Your funeral~”

The shocks were sending a new wave of ticklish Hell upon Alastor’s nerves. A loud screech of radio static came from his throat, Vox recoiling slightly from the noise, but not enough to stop tickling him. The TV wasn’t letting him go anytime soon, and Alastor knew the only thing he could do was pray he either got bored, or pray that the others would return soon.

“I wonder what other spots get you screaming like this?” Vox hummed, despite not expecting the deer to answer. “Not talking? Guess I’ll have to find out on my own~”

Alastor was going to make him pay for this! He’d wipe that shit-eating grin off Vox’s face if it was the last thing he ever did! Another screech of radio interference escaped the Radio Demon, feeling like he was going mad. Vox, meanwhile, was having the time of his afterlife, but he needed more. He needed a spot that would finally be too much for Alastor.

“GEHEHEHEHEHT OHHOOHOHOHOFF MEHEHEHEHE BEHEHEHEHFOHOHOHOHRE IHIHIHIHIHIH BIHIHIHIHITE YOHOHOHOHU!”

A small ‘ding’ sound played from Vox’s speakers, the TV getting an idea. With a smirk, and after a few more electric shocks, he ceased his attack on the sensitive ears. Alastor caught his breath, not yet noticing the wires restraining him brought him up higher off the ground, his abdomen now level with Vox’s face.

“Thanks for giving me a hint~” Vox teased, and before the Radio Demon could respond, the TV had ripped open both the deer’s coat and undershirt, buttons flying off in random directions.

“You’re going to pay for that-” The threat was cut off by Vox slowly stoking a finger up and down Alastor’s stomach, making him freeze.

“All this talk of eating and shit has made me a bit… hungry~” Vox said, before grabbing Alastor’s sides with both hands.

“Vox, I-I’m warning you. If you even think about doing what I think you’re planning, It will be the last thing you ever live to do-” Alastor began, only to be stopped as Vox’s claws dig into his sides.

“You talk too much.” Vox replied, leaning in close.

It happened too fast for the Radio Demon to react, suddenly Vox’s face was in his stomach, before he felt ‘vibrations,’ making him squeal. The ‘vibrations’ were Vox using his TV static to make it feel like he was blowing raspberries right into the deer’s sensitive belly. Cackles of static and laughter came from Alastor, unable to let out a coherent sentence.

“YOHOHOU- STHAHAHA- NOHOHOHOH- IHIHIHIHI’M GOHIHIHING- CEHEHEHASE!”

Vox didn’t stop, in fact, he got worse, squeezing and prodding Alastor’s sides as he continued to torture him. He vaguely wondered if the Radio Demon would pass out from all this, and that would be something to see. Until then, however, Vox was going to keep tormenting him until he had his fill.

Alastor’s nerves felt like they were on fire, desperately trashing as best he could to try and escape. He hated this, he hated all of it so much! Being trapped, feeling helpless, especially at the hands of a bastard television!

“Say, Al.” Vox began, ceasing his raspberry assault in favor of raking his claws over Alastor’s stomach, once again emitting small shocks from them. “Imagine the headlines if all of Hell found out you, the big bad Radio Demon, are stupidly fucking ticklish~”

“YOHOHOHOOHHU WOOHOHOHULDN’T- DOOHOHOHON’T YOHOHOHOHU DAHAH-”

“I can see it now. ‘Breaking news! The Radio Demon and Local Hazbin is ticklish! A few well placed pokes and he’s begging for mercy!’ Wouldn’t that be ‘entertaining?’” Vox grinned. “If only I could get my cameras, and well, you would fucking show up on camera.”

As much as Vox would love to continue breaking Alastor, he was a busy man, and Valentino and Velvette were probably going to be looking for him soon. After one more ‘raspberry’ to Alastor’s belly button, he stopped. The wires holding the Radio Demon up soon unceremoniously dropped him, the deer catching his breath.

“Well, this was informative, and entertaining.” Vox hummed, beginning to head out of the hotel. “We should do this again some-”

Vox’s words were cut off as he was suddenly grabbed by shadowy tendrils, slamming him against the wall. Despite how out of it and tired Alastor felt, there was no way he was letting that TV escape after what he did. Slowly, he composed himself, carefully pushing himself off the floor.

“You seem to forget, old pal.” Alastor began, his eyes turning to radio dials. “Turnabout is fair play, and we still have quite some time before Charlie and the others return.”

“Put me down you asshole!” Vox growled, trying to pull himself free.

“Oh no, you see.” Alastor continued, coming over to the trapped Overlord. “When I get my revenge, I get it tenfold. Best you start praying now~”

Alastor was going to savor every single minute of tormenting Vox. He was going to make sure that pompous television knew never to mess with him again.

[artemisgrayy]

You want self-indulgent prompts? I am currently feral about the idea of Alastor stepping on my face (maybe in a prompt sense, we could call this rough sex/BDSM) and Lucifer giving me aftercare.

The Importance of Aftercare

18+ - Minors DO NOT INTERACT

[Alastor x Reader Smut] [Lucifer x Reader Aftercare]

Tags: NSFW, Minors DNI, rough sex, suspension, Alastor's shadow, loss of mobility, clawing, broken skin, breeding if you squint hard enough

Summary: You are Alastor's plaything. He enjoys using you, and knows exactly what buttons to push to deliver you into sweet, sweet subspace. Unfortunately, aftercare is not a concept his familiar with so Lucifer swoops in to pick up the pieces following your demise.

Your body feels stiff from the position you’ve found yourself in for the last several hours. Alastor left you in his room strung up by the wrists like a marionette, vulnerable and exposed. If anyone were to walk in right now you would be mortified, and he knows it.

The shadowy tendrils hold your wrists firmly to the small of your back — tight enough that they're on the cusp of cutting off your circulation but just centimeters away from that threshold. Any tighter and you would begin to lose feeling in your hands. The Radio Demon knows your limits and he enjoys pushing them.

You’re his plaything.

At this point, you're fed up. You've been here so long that your patience has worn thin. Feeling restless and ticked off, you squirm against the restraints in hopes that their firm grip loosens.

A sudden cool breeze licks your naked skin, causing your nipples to harden. Your senses are assaulted by the smell of spruce and petrichor as a dark shadow creeps up from the floor below you. Danger signs involuntarily flash through your mind as the shadow forms the Radio Demon.

He's so close you could touch him if you had use of your hands — which is exactly why you don’t. His sharp smile creates a sense of urgency as he edges closer to you, savouring your helplessness.

“Going somewhere, my Doe?” Purrs the demon, narrowing his eyes at your squirming body.

“Nice of you to show up. Here I thought you forgot about me” you spit, annoyance dripping from your voice.

“Heavens no” he cackles, waving his free hand, “I just wanted to see how long you would wait for me to return.”

“Fuck you.” you seeth, squirming violently against his shadow’s cold embrace.

Alastor doesn't even flinch. Instead, he stands there watching you squirm, visually amused by your failed attempts at freedom. The smug expression sends fire through your blood as he watches his pet, helplessly struggle to no avail.

You know what will set him off, but a lingering fear of Alastor causes you to hesitate. Your struggle ceases as you calculate your next words carefully.

You've decided you've had enough.

“You might have me tied up pretty tightly” A smirk forms on your face. You look him dead in the eyes basking in the delight of his smug expression disappearing with your next words, “But I know the leash Lilith has you on is tighter.”

The lights flicker violently as the final word escapes your lips and the sound of radio static rings through the room with such force that your ears ring. You wince. His glowing red eyes snap to vacant black, red radio dials replacing his pupils.

A brief sense of relief takes hold when the shadowy tendrils release you and you slam into the bed below you. When you attempt to get away, you feel him grab a fistful of your hair before he throws you face down on the floor.

You push yourself up but are quickly stopped when you feel a boot crush your face against the floor. Through the corner of your eye, you see Alastor looming over you with such rage and disgust that your stomach turns. The horns growing from his head are a stark reminder of how dangerous this demon is.

“If I ever hear those words leave your mouth again, your soul will be the next one I tear apart. I'm sure the rest of hell will enjoy the sounds of your terrified screams as I broadcast them for all to hear, you disrespectful wretch.” he bellows.

Your heart races as his voice echoes through your ears, terrified by his threatening words.

The heel of his boot digs further into your face causing you to whimper at the weight of it as strands of hair rip from your scalp. The carpet scrapes against your cheek as you lay there, helpless under the weight of his body.

You dare not move when Alastor removes his foot, your body remains limp as you wait patiently for your demise. His claws grasp a fistful of your hair, your scalp screaming from the individual strand ripping free as he forces you onto your knees.

“Tell me, darling, who do you belong to?” Demands the demon, releasing his grip on your hair to lift your chin with his finger. Feeling dazed and defeated, you take in the scene caused by your provocation. His body has contorted into something terrifying — like an animal cornering his prey. Red drool drips down his chin as the shadowy tendrils swirl around him, glows of green illuminating the room around you. The radio static fades to a little more than a drone in the background.

“I belong to you, Alastor.” You mutter, hypnotized by his glowing eyes sharpening towards yours.

“And what are you?”

“Your pet.”

The smugness returns to his face and he smirks down his nose at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Lovely.” he uses your hair as leverage to shove your face against his groin and you feel his thick, monstrous length against your mouth. A sharp spike of lust cascades through you when you feel his cock twitch from your hot breath seeping through the crisp fabric of his pants.

You're suddenly eager to taste him, lifting your hands to paw desperately at the thin barrier between you and your prize. You almost miss the demon curse under his breath as he jerks your head back.

“Ah ah ah,” he wags his finger, “patience, pet”

You whimper in response, a self-satisfied expression lights up his features at the sound. He runs his clawed thumb across your lips and you pant, urgent to please him. He uses one hand to slowly and methodically unbutton his trousers and your mouth salivates in response.

“Feast, my Doe,” he demands, his smile illuminating the hungry look in his demonic eyes. You launch forward, primal instincts taking over, and with one tug of his pants, you free him. Precum drips from the head of his cock in anticipation of your mouth. You lap it up hungrily, your tongue trailing a line of hot saliva down his length.

Alastor growls in response. A spark ignites in you, causing you to swallow him whole. Your eyes fill with tears as you fight against your gag reflex, your throat stretching to take him all in. He snarls in response, both hands now curling his fingers around your hair as he holds you in place.

“So eager.” His mellifluous, filtered voice coats your ears like silk.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him. When you lock eyes, he finally releases you allowing you to breathe.

But you aren't done.

You stick out your tongue and pant heavily to indicate your hunger and he looks down at you with a chaotic intent. This is a game to him. He gets enjoyment out of watching you suffer.

Your eyes roll back into your head when Alastor finally awards you another taste, shoving his length into the open orifice. The Radio Demon snarls in response and proceeds to throat-fucking your mercilessly — you moan sending vibrations through his shaft.

You can see the shift in his eyes when he loses the control he so effortlessly maintains when he feels it.

He pulls you off of him and throws you back on the floor, face down. Feeling mischievous, you decide to try your luck to scramble away.

Play his game.

You make it to your hands and knees before his clawed hand grabs your ankles and rips your legs out from under you. You hit the ground with a thud and you feel his hand wrap around your neck when he pins you down forcefully. He uses his free hand to prop you on your knees to line himself up to your drenched slit. You rock your hips back to meet him, longing for him to fill you, but Alastor shifts his weight, pinning you further into the floor. After what feels like an eternity of torture, he finally shoves himself into you with such force that you cry out, overtaken by pain and bliss. It was a sound that was entirely unrecognizable to you.

The claws of his free hand grip your waist, breaking the skin, and he proceeds to fuck you mercilessly, his cock stretching you out with every slam. You glance up towards the force holding you to the ground and you sharply inhale as the Radio Demon’s depraved expression sends you deeper into ecstacy. Your moans are your reckoning — the sound echoing through the room ignites a blaze in his actions.

He slams his hips into your ass with such rhythmic force that you can feel the carpet burn forming on the side of your head with the small, forceful movements. He's ravenous and you're ready for him to devour you.

Alastor releases your waist and his middle finger finds your clit. His claws are so sharp, they threaten to slice you with each movement, only driving you further towards your end.

He watches your pinned face intently, observing your reaction as he locates your sweet spot. When a deep, guttural moan escapes your lips, his smile widens even further, and his glowing eyes burn with desire.

The demon grabs you by the hair and situates you on your knees, holding you firmly against his body. Your breathing intensifies as he ruthlessly assaults your clit while fucking you senseless.

You’re so deep in subspace that you're non-verbal but your body language does all the talking — it begs, pleads, and yearns to reach the peak of your climax. The euphoria builds, enrapturing you as you he burrows deep inside, his cock stretches you out with his overwhelming size and —

The teather snaps

You cry out as the orgasm rushes over you, exploding from your throbbing clit to your toes. Alastor growls when he feels your walls contract around him. He slams your face back into the carpet, pumping inside of you unsparingly as he drives towards his own release.

“Who you belong to, pet?” growls the Radio Demon.

“I belong to you, Alastor.”

And with that he pushes deep into you, releasing his seed with such force.

He wants you to remember it.

He collapses on top of you and you sit there for a moment, chests heaving. The only sound that can be heard is collective exhales as you bask in the glow of each other's heat.

“Good girl.” Alastor praises you earnestly, running his fingers through your hair as you fight to collect yourself. The validation creates warmth under his fingertips that fires through your body.

He returns to his feet, pulling up his trousers as you roll over to your back and look up at him, basking in his shadow. He looks down at you with a look you couldn't quite interpret.

Your eyes widen when you recognize it.

“No, Alastor, don't you fucking da-” but it's too late. Before you have the chance to finish your sentence his shadow takes you hostage securing you in the air once more.

“I'll be back, darling,” he trills as his body melts into the shadows through the floor, “be good for me will you?” his voice echoing early around you.

And just like that he was gone.

“For fuck sake.” you groan, furious and annoyed at Alastor for once again putting you in this situation, dangling helplessly with your hands pinned to your back.

“Get back here! You can't leave me like this!” You scream, nearly choking back tears. You scream cursing for several minutes.

The doorknob turns. You're ready to lay into Alastor, fiery lava coursing through your veins.

“This isn't funny dude, you just fucked me and lef-” your wavering words are cut short when Lucifer walks in to investigate the disturbance. When he looks up at you, his eyes shift from their usual sunny demeanor to deep concern as he takes in your situation.

Majestic wings break free of his back and he glides towards you, determined. You're in such awe that you forget about the embarrassing position you're in when he slices through your shadowy prison, catching you in his arms.

“I'm gonna fucking kill that guy, I swear.” Lucifer's horns grow from his scalp as his typically cheerful voice lowers violently, his eyes glowing a furious red at the prospect. He lowers himself to the ground and swiftly carries you out the door towards the bathroom.

You collapse in his warmth, shivering. He holds you tighter against him as he uses his wings to propel himself down the corridor urgently. When you look up at him, you notice his horns have disappeared. His eyes back to his normal yellow glow, are full of determination as he carries forward.

When you reach the bathroom, the light stings your tear-soaked eyes, causing you to wince from the reflection off the tiled floor. He sets you down gently and you gasp as the cold tiles make contact with your thighs, causing you to shudder. Lucifer turns on the bath, checking periodically on the temperature as the scent of Lavender fills the room.

The blood that stained your skin from where Alastor hooked his claws was dry but continued to radiate sharp pain through your torso. Removing his jacket, Lucifer lays it over top of your exposed, trembling body like a blanket and you feel safe in the warmth of the fabric. He crouches down, grabbing your chin between his fingers to bring your gaze to his.

“Are you okay?” he asks genuinely, his voice laced with worry. The graze of his fingertips brushes the hair out of your eyes and smiles causing your heart to stutter.

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Did he hurt you?”

You pause, wondering how much you should divulge.

“Only because I wanted him to.” you shrug, slightly embarrassed.

Lucifer chuckles, his reaction without judgment.

“Well hey, there's nothing wrong with that,” he smirks, “I know how I react when I sink my teeth into someone, if ya know what I mean.”

He winks and you can't stop a giggle from escaping your chest. He turns off the water and locks eyes with you again.

Reaching out towards you, he paused, looking at you for consent before touching you. You nod your approval and he lifts you effortlessly, placing you gently into the claw foot tub. You wince as the heat of the water draws your immediate attention to every area where the skin had broken.

Lucifer looks at you empathetically as he rests his arms on the tub. His eyes never breaking contact, a crooked grin on his face. He traces his finger around the top of the water, a trail of gold, glittering mist following in its wake.

“But,” he continues, his tone becoming serious “when you put someone in that mindset, you've gotta follow up with care.” He pulls his finger up, the trails of gold taking shape and forming a heart.

You smile, the pain in your body replaced with warmth as you're comforted by his words.

“Oh! One second,” Lucifer reaches into his jacket with purpose, fumbling around for something in particular. His eyes light up with sudden enthusiasm when he locates it, his sharp fangs gleaming as he pulls the treasure from his pocket.

He extends his arm, opening his hand.

“These help huuuge with depression”

In his palm rests a single yellow, rubber duck.

Thank you for sending that in, dear reader - that was a lot of fun to write! I do love me some face stepping and great aftercare 🥵

I'm gonna go take a cold shower now.

--

You can read about some Alastor Aftercare in the AU version

The Importance of Aftercare [AU]

If you're looking for something a bit fluffier, check out my multi-chapter Alastor x Reader fic

From One Hell to Another

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

i promised ... and i owe ... so many of you thoughts on xavier's "no restraint" card..... SO HERE IT IS, UNDER THE CUT !! i ramble a lot so it's very long 🫶🫶

(this was so hard guys. this card was a whole entire shock factor.)

first of all...... please delight in this reaction image i can offer you. because. any of you who are reading this rn know exactly which part of the card i'm referring to when i say:

(in conclusion, my legs are open)

.. ANYWAY !!!!!!!!! CLEARS THROAT

things we're going to talk about? well, it's me, so (A) character development, (B) relationship development, but also (C) WHATEVER THE HELL WENT ON IN THAT KINDLED MOMENTS SSCENE <3

(A-1) Character Development; Xavier

over the past few cards we've been having of him, i think it's safe to say that we're familiar with a number of his mannerisms, and i've also talked about a lot why that is and what goes into that.

but a lot of it changes in this card. and it's so much more than just the moment of realization he has in 21 days, too. enough that—aside from what we know eventually takes place—we can safely assume that all this occurs after that card chronologically.

exhibit a; tendency to do things on his own.

this is something that i may not have talked about as much, but i'm pretty sure we all know it's there—that xavier has always carried this tendency to do things all on his own. there's multiple examples of this, and it goes way way way back to his anecdotes.

i.e. with "passing by" and "when shooting stars fall", we already have prime examples—

"Whether it's tasks assigned by the higher-ups or senior members, Xavier always completes them quickly and methodically. He works until they're done, but nothing more."

"Xavier stands alone amidst a circle of fallen bodyguards. In the corner, Lawrence is tied up with bed sheets, his neck at an odd angle."

"I notice the wounds on his hands and face. Catching his breath, he holds out his hand, showing me a small, glowing Protocore. This is the first time he's looked at me with desperation in his eyes. When he moves closer, I notice a ring of light around his neck. It's a striking, suffocating red."

in his lightseeker myth, too, he's also the one to take the initiative and look for an alternative to philos' sacrifice. he leaves mc behind, and he leaves jeremiah behind—it isn't until later that he's able to enlist the help of others and form the backtrackers, and even then, they all recognize that he's the most capable one among them. in fact, it's also evident in "from the stars" from world underneath:

"As the leader of the Backtrackers ... Asteroids, turbulence, and the collapse of wormholes couldn't tear Traceback ll's team apart. With Xavier there, they managed to break through the universe's most impregnable spacetime barrier."

"It seems like everyone had a reason to give up and leave halfway except you. Well, you did too, but you wouldn't because no one could replace you. We all thought that you'd still make it to the end, even if you were the only one left."

in the main story, we're also faced with multiple scenarios of xavier going off on his own to do hunter duties, or otherwise a little extra in order to find the protocore that he needs—"heartstring symphony" is also proof of that.

and lumiere's myth is no different, nor is the whole legend behind lumiere in the first place.

"Xavier is missing. He didn't show up on the set, and there was no sign of him at home either ... Since then, I've never received a Wanderer alert on my watch again. Just like Xavier predicted, the dark clouds gradually dispersed, and the heavy rain slowly became a gentle drizzle until it ceased completely. Breathtaking evening clouds replaced them. Dusk falls, accompanied by millions of glittering lights creating a spectacular meteor shower. Long streaks reminiscent of contrails are etched across the sky. Meanwhile, the newest updates are being broadcast repeatedly on the massive screen in the heart of Azure Square. The previously rampant Wanderers have disappeared overnight, leaving behind only some suspicious Protocores ... The doomsday panic, which overtook the city like an inflating balloon, shatters silently as if pierced by a pin."

"Right on cue, my watch loudly sounds the alarm, and I hear the roars of Wanderers from the flames. At that moment, Xavier vanishes, and a beam of light with as much force as a rainbow piercing through sunshine cuts through the collapsed, burning factory. In the blink of an eye, he leaps out of the raging fire, his sword still coated in Metaflux that has yet to dissipate."

"'Threat levels are at least A. I have to go—' 'Stay here. I'll be right back.' Xavier pushes down my shoulder, and a strange red light around his neck is quickly concealed by his collar."

"The red light on Xavier's neck flickers wildly. He swings his weapon, sending out a lightblade to kill the remaining, struggling Wanderer. Smoke created by the dissipated energy rises in all directions. He leans against the wall, trying to steady his wobbling form after the intense battle. 'Abnormal vital signs have been detected. Excessive use of Evol. Disengage from combat immediately and receive treatment...' Xavier turns off the annoying warning on his watch and lifts his gaze to the entrance of an alley, where several shadows are closing in on him."

moreover is the fact that from world underneath, we also know that his collar acts as a suppressor:

"'...Light Evol has been detected. Evolver's Evol limit cannot be defined.' 'Any attempts to probe its limit triggers a special neck suppressor, which prevents the Evolver from using their full power.'"

and yet despite that, he still continues to do what he does, anyway.

a lot of things play into it, and i talk a lot about how his upbringing as a prince must have largely contributed to habits like this. he's used to doing things on his own, and he's expected to, in a way—all the burdens and duties placed upon him the moment he was born, when he bever had any say in it. already in his "when shooting stars fall" anecdote, he's isolated from everyone and constantly surrounded by bodyguards, and mc acted as his only source of freedom by reaching for him past that barrier.

it's also worth noting that most (if not all) of this that he's been doing, is all and always for mc, too—as if it comes back full cycle. it's how he shows his love for her, because it's really the only way he knows how to.

which also brings attention to his always and ever highlighted communication issues—because common in all of these examples up until this card, is that he's been vague about it.

never giving the full answer.

never truly explaining what he's been up to.

and it's something that mc knows; he keeps his secrets well, and they've never really truly talked about these things.

but "no restraint" plays this out a little differently.

"Even though I still want to ask him about where he went, it's only a matter of time before more of Henrik's men arrive. Escaping is our main priority."

And yet;

"I realized I was being followed, which is why I didn't contact you. I managed to shake them off, but I was concerned they might catch up to me. That's why I searched for the Protocore by myself."

—"Why are you suddenly talking about this?"

"...No reason."

xavier willingly explains.

mc doesn't particularly ask—yet he says it anyway. to clear the air, to maybe make it known that he is putting in an effort.

in this situation, he hasn't derived from his habit of going off on his own, but he provides a good explanation of it. there's mediation; he's saying that he trusts her, and he wants to ensure that there is nothing for her to be worried about.

"I just wanted to say I'm not the kind of partner who would leave you behind... I'm also not one of those young people who take things for granted, either."

and he further willingly explains when she does probe him, replying with a reflection of the excuse she gave one of the bodyguards just to be able to get information out of him.

BUT, MOSTLY—

"i know you know" is xavier directly addressing the fact that their relationship has been curated around this trust that they've been starting to build with each other—he knows that mc was not exactly doubting him, yet he wanted to reassure her anyway, as if speaking it out loud makes it official.

sometimes you don't ask for reassurance because you know in your heart that your doubts aren't real. but receiving it never hurts—and that's how this plays out.

xavier has always known that communication has always been an issue with him.

he's willing to fix it, and willing to take that extra step to make sure mc doesn't feel unloved with him. he doesn't want to leave room for doubts.

"i know you know." i know you know i will never leave you, i know you know that i love you. i know you know, but i'll say it anyway. because i mean it. and you don't have to worry.

(LIKE DO YOU GUYS GET HOW IMPORTANT THIS LINE IS? 😭 HOW MUCH IT SAYS FOR THE EXTENT TO WHICH HE TRULY LOVES HER? 😭)

exhibit b; aloofness.

we also know that, while xavier can be pretty intense with regards to the previous point, he's always had this calm, easygoing, aloof nature to him. as if he could fade into the background, as if he's simply floating around like a little cloud—there's this aura around him that simply wants to just... be.

but, again, it's almost as if so much more hides underneath that. like it's not totally 100% inherently him. like it's not entirely natural, like the part of him that's like this is maybe somewhat a façade that he's been putting up for so long, so it's just ended up... becoming part of him, by force of habit.

there are so many subtleties to the way he seems to try to express himself—the little things. microexpressions. involuntary emotional leakage. they last for a fragment of a second, but they're there, and with xavier, they seem to always convey so much more than whatever words he can muster.... because he always finds himself short of doing it in the way he wants to.

again, it goes back to his communication issues.

he's used to being isolated. used to speaking eloquently as he does only when required, but never really quite knowing how to express affection. or, again, how to express himself in general.

"it's like he's just so used to being princely, that he can't let go of it even if he isn't a prince anymore. he wants to, but old habits die hard—he hides so much beneath that exterior still, and it's mc who's able to help him tear down those walls, mc who's able to make him want to try harder to."

and it's why we've always seen this push and pull with him. he has trouble being honest about his feelings, difficulties in telling mc he loves her, difficulties in being direct to the point with her. he'd dodge her questions, be vague about things... hints of directness, but never really pushing forward with it. he'd tease, but it falls short—mc doesn't know if he's being genuine or not. he doesn't know how to convey that. so a lot of their previous cards and previous moments have been very vague. so, so many examples, a very prime one being his lightseeker myth, because their communication issues very sincerely stuck out with that one. and the last intimate card they had—"tender nights"—and in fact, "heartstring symphony" too, very blatantly display how difficult it is for him to convey his feelings the right way.

but... again, "no restraint" plays that out a lot differently.

"If I had known, I would've kept you company until the mission ended."

"When you said no, they said— 'You're a special person. Won't you reconsider?' ... Did you reconsider?"

"'It's just a scratch. It'll heal in no time.' ... Xavier shakes his head, stands up, and leaves the room. When he returns, he's holding a box filled with bandages that have red foxes on them."

"He gets down on one knee and covers my knee with a bandage. The dim light blurs the outline of his hair ... After smoothing out the bandage, Xavier puts slippers on my feet. And then he stands up and leans against the edge of the table, shoulder to shoulder with me."

"He seems to casually glance in my direction. Noticing how I'm wearing a bathrobe, his gaze lingers on me for a second longer..."

"Does that mean you only like the bandage?"

"Before I realize it, his hand that's on the table slides over. He hooks his pinky over mine. 'I'm curious. The cupcake you mentioned—is it your favorite?'"

and...

he's more intentional with his words and his actions this time. he wants to show her that he loves her, he wants to show her that she means a lot to him. and they're still little things, not too major, but there's a certain confidence in the way that he does it. there's sureness. it's less of those awkward moments of "should i, shouldn't i?" and there's way less hesitation.

he's insistent on holding her and taking care of her wounds. he's insistent on having her say her side of things, because he wants to know what she really thinks, too. small staps towards clearer communication—and though the tension may still be high with them in this card in general, it's a kind of tension where you can feel that they're more comfortable.

it's a stark contrast.

this is the xavier that's more than just learning, more than just realizing—he's doing.

you can really see how he's grown as a person.

(A-2) Character Development; MC

BUT it's not JUST xavier who's grown. because like in all relationships, effort comes from both sides. and the main point here, is that mc has learned to trust him a little more, too.

this part is a little shorter, but i really wanted to bring attention to two scenes and how they both play out—and i'd also like to point out the very start of the card.

the card starts off very general and sets the scene quite well, but it also starts off with mc and xavier separated. this becomes largely the topic for discussion as the card goes on, because mc does wonder where he is, and why he isn't saying anything to her.

but it's not implied anywhere that she's particularly upset about it.

in previous cards/interactions, there's always a sense of exasperation behind her words—sometimes, like in "heartstring symphony", she's upset about it. she chastises him, she sometimes makes it known that she doesn't like when he does those things—

but this time there's none of that.

she allows the mission to move smoothly, doesn't react as much once she does hear xavier contact her again... and even if it shows that she keeps wondering where he is and what he's doing, and later on what he has been doing, it's founded on curiosity instead of frustration.

"Even though I still want to ask him about where he went, it's only a matter of time before more of Henrik's men arrive. Escaping is our main priority."

this is the mc that trusts him.

this is the mc that knows she doesn't particularly need reassurance from him, and she can do without it, because she knows what no matter what, she can trust what he's been up to.

and now;

if it wasn't obvious yet previously, this should make it.

because she's not upset—in fact, she's fond.

she recognizes that her own feelings stem from her own desire to have him with her at all times, too, but most of all, she recognizes that there's nothing to be concerned of, anyway.

she knows that in the end, the person that xavier loves is her. the person that xavier wants to protevt the most is her. the person that xavier wants to be with, as much as he can, as much as the circumstances let him—is her.

she's content with that.

she smiles at the bandage, because it's proof of it—he's just treated her wounds, so insistent on taking care of her even if she knows it's nothing but a scratch and that he doesn't even need to dote on her.

but he does.

he goes the extra stew to get a cute little bandage because he knows it'll make her smile more, too.

she knows that, and she's happy.

"You have your secrets too, but you're different from them."

in a stark contrast from the mc we've been used to before that seems a little on edge and unsure and so doubtful of so many things because there's a lot about xavier she doesn't know yet—this time, she accepts it. because they're both working towards communicating more, and being more affectionate... and there's just no reason and no need for be to be concerned.

it's a big step for her to take, and this is a surprisingly big amount of trust she's putting on him, but it's further proof of how much she—they—have grown.

"You're like.. a cupcake I tucked away so I can have you all to myself."

this is also a line that holds so much in it.

it's really struck out to me, and for a number of reasons, too— (1) it further emphasizes how content she is with him and how much she trusts him; (2) it further emphasizes her own growth with relation to how she shows affection; (3) it says a lot about the kind of special treatment she gives xavier, too.

starting with point #2—the mc we see with xavier has always been bold, always the one to initiate things.... but never truly reciprocates.

like the xavier before, mc never really follows through with what she starts. she'll tease, then pull back; initiate, and then abruptly leave him hanging. she's not much better than xavier in terms of showing affection, because although she may seem like the bolder one, the truth is that she's always been scared.

it goes back to the level of trust she has in him.

because she doesn't know too much about him, it prevents her from truly acting on her feelings—she doesn't know what to expect, doesn't know how far she's allowed to take things.

teasing remains teasing.

not this time.

we also see the level of sureness she has in her actions with the way she initiates their more intimate moments later on; she might have started out as coy, but not once did she back away from it... if not for the fact that she encourages it, even.

"I tug at his sleeve, unable to figure out whether I'm meaning to be flirty or not."

she says this, but she still continues. because she knows what she wants, and she trusts him with it.

then you bring that all together with point #3—the allusions to her own personality.

"You're like a cupcake I tucked away, so I can have you all to myself."

to me it feels less about her reciprocating his more possessive nature, and more about her views on how she's been cherishing him.

tucked away.

she uses past tense.

she could have very well said "a cupcake i tuck away"; which would imply that she frequently wants to hold him close to her to save for when they're alone.

but this is a cupcake she tucked away.

and to me it feels like she's held on to him so long... without actually appreciating him for who he is.

it's like having a pretty dessert with you, one that's too pretty to eat, so you keep for yourself for a while. and you... don't eat it. even if you're supposed to.

it's like getting a precious jewel, but you're too concerned about it being stolen from you, because it's just that precious and beautiful—so you keep it. you don't wear it, whether outside or wherever. you don't. wear it. even if you're supposed to.

and that's not appreciating them for what they are.

to me, it feels like that's how the change in tense makes mc's words appear.

a cupcake she tucked away—hasn't eaten at all. like how, with xavier, for all that she's been fond of him, she's never onve bridged the gap between them on her own, either. she's kept him at arm's length, doubted him, and everything else that comes along with all the communication issues they've always had.

this time, she recognizes it—and i'd like to think that in a way, she's also apologizing for it. she admits, out loud, to herself and to him, that she's been pretty selfish. she hasn't been treasuring him and cherishing him the way she needs to be. she hasn't been reciprocating when he's affectionate. she's been only shying away when he initiates something. she knows she's been like that, and she's saying—i'm not going to be like that anymore.

and again, it goes back to trust.

she trusts him.

and because she can trust him, she can love him how he is, for who he is.

"so i can have you all to myself" feels a lot more like, "so i can finally love you."

and then we get to this scene.

for one thing, she doesn't deny their relationship at all; for another—their conversation on "love" feels very striking to me, too.

"but he can be a little mischievous sometimes."

"isn't that just love?"

and then...

"you're not wrong."

it's like a very direct jab at xavier and his way of being affectionate; the teasing that he does, and the way he's sometimes a little vague, sometimes a little awkward—but he's trying, and he's becoming more sure of himself, too.

and xavier's way of showing affection is truly reserved for her, because there's really none of that awkwardness with anyone else—he doesn't try so hard.

mc seems to be, here, descriving that nature of him as "mischievous".

it is, in a way.

but she also knows that it's love.

that it's his way of showing love.

she recognizes it. she accepts it.

she's learned things about him, too, and she's thinking... all of it can be compiled into this little word called love.

there is love between both of them.

and we can say that at this point, they're pretty far into their relationship.

they've gotten quite comfortable with each other—they're being touchy, the playful banter is light and easy... and they're definitely working to strengthen the bond that they have. their communication has improved SO much... i'm so proud of them 😭

it's definitely not a fully developed relationship; they're still a little shy around each other, there's still a lot of tension that's hard for them to navigate. it seems they've also yet to cross the " i love you" barrier, or at the very least, that it's difficult to say—plus, mc is exceedingly embarrassed to find xavier had overheard her conversation with the receptionist.

yet... when we move on to when they start to get intimate, it's also very interesting to me that it goes so smoothly—and it's definitely not their first time.

but it's a first something.

and it doesn't make the moment any less full of emotion.

this particular sequence honestly had me so INCREDIBLY confused at first, because why on earth would he be trapped right;

but then you look into who xavier is and how he's been with mc, and it goes back to that—he has so, so much love for her that he simply doesn't know how to deal with it.

he's pleading her.

he's saying that if she continues drawing him in like this, what with how much he always feels for her, he's not going to be able to hold back.

it's a trap, in a way.

xavier is still trying his best to discern what it means to show love to someone—because all these years, he hasn't been able to learn that properly. and yet now that mc has fully grasped her end of the stick, now that she's confident and sure of what she wants and how much she feels for him, it's bringing forth a bubble of emotions that he can't seem to describe.

it might not be their first time, but i don't think that xavier ever moves on from what it feels like to be wanted by her like this.

it's scary, because he doesn't know how to navigate things like this.

"It's almost as if tiny flames are flickering in the depths of his gaze. They're faint yet ready to ignite my soul at any moment."

xavier, who's been raised with the notion that he has to know things, to be able to potentially lead his people as the future king of philos...

this is something he doesn't know.

and like how mc was always afraid of how uncertain she was with him, right now, he's afraid because he has so much emotion ready to burst forth that he doesn't know what to do with it.

there's an aura of disbelief that makes it so hard for him to grasp.

it's always been "i will love you in every universe"—for the both of them.

and now, he's having the full realization, maybe for the 928482857th time since they've become official, that she's saying those words back to him. that if he can love her in every universe, as every version of himself... then she can do the same for him.

she wants to do the same for him.

she is doing the same for him.

"she loves me."

"she wants me."

he's pleading with her to take what she wants, because she has all of him.

and then we go back to mc's confidence—because she realizes he wants this to proceed in exactly the same way she wants it to, and she's willing to become his undoing.

and even if he technically switches and takes charge in the next second, it comes to fruition that her giving him consent in this way is what breaks him free of that bubble.

"don't hold back", is all that this is, really.

and he doesn't.

and it's just, not really just about the tension they've built up to get to this moment—the coy excuse of using the protocore's supposed effects—there's so much that goes into it, with the way they feel, with how their desires are so blatantly displayed just like that, with how their love fuels how much they need each other.

it's almost funny, in a way, because it's as if both of them are saying "take me, i'm yours." at the same time. and then it becomes less about possession... and more of a complete and utter surrender to each other.

and i think that's beautiful.

(which also. BONUS? but if this doesn't signify how focused xavier is on giving pleasure and at the same time how easy it is for him to lose himself in the moment and feel good because you're feeling good—i don't know what else will ✋)

(also like. the aftercare... the morning cuddles.... the hickey mc left on him 😭 i love them so much..........)

IN CONCLUSION . . . . THIS CARD MADE ME FEEL MANY THINGS.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK 😭✋