#RADIO REQUEST

[fatally-alive]

So the AMs get to be played on the radio 4 times in 5 hours , but The Libs only once so far ? Yes, some DJs are bias per what I hear.

[eepy-cookies]

Imagine making a game where you are trapped in the Spire of Deceit, but you went to Black Sapphire’s route to get his ending.

[cryptidghostgirl]

hiii can i request a silly little scene i have in my head? ok so!

alastor x wife! reader- theyve been together since they were alive, legit partners in crime they both encouraged eachother to kill and when they reunited in hell after around 8 years they were independent once again UNTIL They got in trouble with Lilith and she took reader to be like her slave until Alastor finished helping Charie with her dream (until he helped prove that demons can be redeemed) so they didnt see each other for another 7 years (his absence)

And all throughout the first season hes like “I miss my wife, Husk. I miss her a lot” (while drunk-) like that one sonic dub meme and starts shaping his shadow creature into reader and talking to it and everyone is like “m yep he’s officially lost it.”

BUT then Sir Pentious is redeemed and Lilith sees and shes like “damn :/“ and send reader to the new hotel via portal and reader just. falls on the ground in front of the big entrance and everyone hears it and they rush out and Alastor is quiet, wide eyed and reader goes smth like “i know- i shouldnt have accepted it in your name but-“ blah blah she rambles on about it and Alastor just goes “Youre as beautiful as the day I los you.” LIKE THAT HEARYBREAKING SCENE FROM HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 ;-; and everyone reacts in their own way

I REALLY NEED THIS BUT I LACK THE ABILITIES TO DO IT HEEELP (love u)

A/N oh bestie,, i got you. I was actually planning on something similar where Alastor was getting drunk at a bar and talking about the love of his life (I'm still gonna write that one too but I really like this prompt!!) You guys really come up with the best requests, please keep sending them in.

Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: ANGST also bad words (idk why i wrote the warnings like this). Also Angel Dust is in this one and I love him but he is a warning on his own.

Word Count: 2,392

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor and Y/n, partners in crime, the fuel and the fire. On a first glance, it would be assumed she was his fuel, the coal and dry leaves he fed himself by. Once anyone got to know them -- and god, what trouble a person was in if they got to know them -- they quickly realized it was the other way around.

Hand in hand from day one, from childhood. Running from the cops, washing the blood off one another's faces. In the living world and life after death, nothing could tear them apart. He was the soil she planted herself in, he was her rock and Y/n? Well she was Alastor's everything. He'd do anything at all for her, all she had to do was ask.

For a decade, they terrified the living world. They were the reason to double check the lock on the door before bed, they were the ominous shadow at the corner. When cold death wrapped them in his reckless grasp, they turned their terror on Hell.

The pair made a name for themselves quickly, filling up the airwaves and making waves in the underworld. For generations, they reigned supreme. For generations, they knew no fear. Then one day, they simply disappeared.

When Alastor reappeared on the streets seven years later without his shadow, the town was alight with gossip. No one knew where he had been, where she still was, or why he had returned but Alastor quickly rebuilt his operation, setting up shop at Lucifer's daughter's Hazbin Hotel along with several of the souls he owned.

The hotel's other residents and workers were distrustful of the man, to say the least. He was shifty, wore a constant smile, and rumors circled around him like birds of prey. That was until about three months into his stay, at least.

Angel hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd been coming down to the bar for a drink and a rant of his own when he'd heard the familiar, crackling voice of the Hotel's host.

"I just... I miss her so much, Husk."

He sounded sad, utterly dejected. Angel crouched down on the staircase, hiding his slim body behind one of the ornate posts supporting the railing.

"You keep saying that but do nothing to go find her. She disappeared the same time as you, you know." came Husk's gruff reply.

"I know she did."

"You keep saying that, acting like you know something. Admit it: you don't know shit, Alastor."

Alastor's radio waves faltered, squeaking slightly. Angel tensed in terror, wondering if he'd been found out. This was clearly a private conversation, and the Radio Demon was testy at the best of times. Right now he seemed positively furious.

"Don't test me, Husk." Alastor said after a moment, breaking the tense silence, "She... we both got roped into something. I am doing my part, she is doing hers."

Angel straightened himself up, deciding it was high time he entered the room. He still wanted that drink, after all. He let his feet fall heavily on the stairs, alerting the others to his presence. Husk turned toward the sound, meeting Angel's eyes as he entered the bar. Alastor, on the other hand, kept his back to the spider demon.

Taking a seat beside Alastor, Husk immediately poured Angel a drink and slid it across the counter towards him.

"So, tough night, Smiles?" Angel asked, turning to Alastor who downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.

"I don't know what you're talking about, my good fellow." Alastor hummed in response.

There was a threat in his voice, but Angel could tell the demon's heart wasn't in it. Everything was just, odd.

"Yeah... sure..." Angel scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Radio man was crying to me about his wife five seconds ago." Husk grumbled and Angel's eyes went wide.

"You have a wife?" he asked, turning back to Alastor, "I mean, I get it. I'm in to the whole 'tall dark and creepy' thing too but, you care about someone? I don’t know if I can see it.”

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he turned on Husk. The cat demon rolled his eyes in a brazen display of disrespect. He knew his master well, knew this was the only thing he had any leverage with the man on. With a deep breath, Alastor placed his hands firmly on the bar top and pulled himself to his feet. Not saying another word, he disappeared into his shadows.

That had been the first odd occurrence. Of course Angel had told Charlie and Charlie had told everyone, had even approached Alastor about it. The Radio Demon brushed it all off with skill and for a while, things were quiet.

About a month later, the second strange thing began happening. Alastor had always had a certain sway over shadows, everyone knew that. However, he very rarely used them, brought them out if it wasn't to hide him or take him where he needed to be. Then, suddenly, one began to follow him.

"Uh, Alastor?" Charlie had timidly approached him the first time she saw this happening.

"Yes, Charlie my dear?" Alastor asked, turning to face her as he tossed his microphone in the air, catching it neatly in the center of the stand.

"Well, we were just wondering if everything was... okay?" she asked, her hands behind her back and a pointed gaze on the shadow.

"If everything..." Alastor trailed off, following the path of Charlie's gaze and realizing what was going on, "No, no my dear. Everything is quite all right, quite alright indeed."

"Well, okay... If you say so." Charlie had relented after a few moments, unsure of what else to do.

Eventually, the members of the Hazbin Hotel grew used to the shadows, they too slipped out of their minds. Overcome with impending doom of the extermination just a month away, Alastor's strange behavior was no longer a priority.

That had been until the third odd occurrence came into being. It was Sir Pentious who had noticed it first, drawing it to the group's attention as Alastor walked through the lobby and past the group doing trust exercises there on his way to some meeting or another with the other overlords.

"Sir Pentious?" Charlie had called, trying to bring him back to earth as he watched the place Alastor had occupied, "Sir Pentious?"

"Pentious!" Vaggie yelled and his head snapped to her, "You're not coming up with some new plan to attack Alastor, are you?"

"No!" he quickly exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air, "Not at all just..."

"What?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth, advancing a step forward, her spear in hand.

"It's just... doesn't that shadow Alastor has had following him well.... doesn't it kind of look like a woman?"

Husk broke out into wild laughter while Angel widened his eyes.

"Oh, he's definitely lost it now." Husk exclaimed as he calmed himself, clutching his stomach, "If I knew Y/n was the secret to breaking him down, I woulda done something about it years ago."

"No you wouldn't have, ya big talker." Angel teased, elbowing the cat demon lightly.

"Y/n?" Sir Pentious asked.

"Alastor's wife. That was her name." Husk replied.

"Did you know her?" Charlie asked.

Alastor had left the hotel, the threat that had held their questions at bay for months was gone and the topic was right. Husk nodded.

"So, what's she like?" Angel asked suggestively, "Is she more of a dom? Does deer boy like to get dicked down by his lady?"

"Gross." Charlie shook her head, her hands to her temples, "I do not want to know that."

"She's a good kid." Husk said after a moment, "She's nice..."

He trailed off.

"But?" Vaggie prompted, sensing there was more that he wanted to say.

Husk sighed.

"If you think Alastor is trouble, she's a fucking house fire set for the insurance money."

"So probably not interested in being a guest." Charlie dejectedly stated.

Husk shrugged.

"You never know. It has been seven years since anyone has seen her. Alastor allegedly knows where she's at but, he hasn't gone after her. Just keeps whining to me about it so, I don't know. Maybe she's changed. I doubt it though. Sweet as a pea, sharp as a knife."

Charlie had never felt such relief as when she learned Alastor had not died in the chaos of the battle. The hotel was destroyed, heaven was pissed, Sir Pentious had died but, at least he was alright. They rebuilt the hotel, Alastor's same shadow of a woman trailing after him wherever he went. After about a week, thanks to all the angelic and demonic powers involved in the construction, the new Hotel was finished.

It was just as they put the finishing touches on the place, hung the portrait of Sir Pentious they'd commissioned above the fire place, that a portal opened in the lobby. Everyone tensed, banding together behind Charlie and Alastor. Angels were coming, they were sure of it.

A crash echoed from the other side, a sharp yell and then something tumbled through the portal. With a flash, the portal disappeared behind the shape of a person huddled on the floor. She coughed violently.

Alastor's eyes went wide. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, but if they'd have been paying attention, they would have seen his shadow disappear.

The girl was filthy, her clothes torn and her hair tangled. She let out another, sharp cough before slowly lifting her head. Alastor took a trembling step forward.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice soft in disbeleif.

A smile, wide and sharp, split the woman's bruised face in two.

"Hey hun, I'm home."

In a flash, he was at her side, helping her to her feet, checking her for wounds.

"Jesus, Y/n." he sighed, "You're a mess."

"I know."

"Y/n-"

"I know. I shouldn't have done it, you don't need to lecture me. I didn't have a choice. It was you or me, Al. I couldn't... I can't... I had to. You've gotta understand."

"Sweetheart-"

Y/n cut him off again, her speech a single, constant, stressed-out stream.

"It was stupid, I know. I know. I really do but, she gave me the option and I couldn't say no cause then if I said no you'd really be the one in trouble a-"

Alastor raised a hand gently to her cheek and Y/n's words caught in her throat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes at last.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

His voice was soft, so quiet the others could barely hear him. Y/n's cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, holding them lightly.

"I.." she stuttered, her mind racing.

With a sigh and a slight shake of her head, she gave up in the search for words and buried herself in his chest. Alastor wrapped his arms around Y/n, pressing her tightly into his frame.

"God, I missed you." she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.

Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"I love you." she continued, "I'm so sorry."

Alastor pulled her off of him, leaning down the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. Y/n, wiped a stray tear away, letting out a slight, sad laugh. Alastor's eyes traversed her face, caressing every crevasse.

"I'm so glad your alright but, I don't understand." he said at last, "How are you back? The deal..."

Y/n nodded and Alastor's eyes went wider still. Leaning on Alastor's shoulder for support, she turned her eyes onto the rest of the group.

"You must be Charlie." she hummed softly, meeting the young demon's gaze.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped forward and nodded.

"Yes, I am. I run the Hazbin Hotel, which is where you are, to help rehabilitate sinners."

"I know." Y/n nodded, her voice quavering slightly, "I've heard so much about you. You... my dear, it worked."

"I- what?" every other question died in Charlie's throat, shock shot through her body like a bullet.

"It worked." Y/n confirmed, "You did it. I had a deal, a deal which Alastor went to your side to get me out of. If you succeeded in redeeming a soul with his aid, I would be free. And here I am."

"Here you are." Alastor repeated, spinning Y/n to face him once again.

She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Catching sight of this along with the numerous wounds all over her body, Alastor scooped Y/n up into his arms like he did when they had first been married, when they had crossed the first threshold together. Y/n looped her arms around his neck, exhaustion seeping in with the relief as she let her head fall on his chest.

"Vaggie..." Charlie began as she turned to her girlfriend, "you don't think..."

"Pentious?" Vaggie asked and Charlie nodded.

"It's gotta be." Angel confirmed.

"You did good, kid." Husk smiled, patting Charlie on the back.

Y/n raised her head at the sound of a familiar voice, her eyes opening.

"Husker?" she asked with a smile.

The cat demon stepped forward, bowing slightly.

"Husker! I-"

"Enough of that, my love." Alastor cut her off, tapping her nose gently, "You need a shower and some rest. You can meet everyone in the morning."

Y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her husband.

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise." he sighed.

"Does that mean you're staying?" Charlie asked tentatively and the couple turned to her.

"Whatever the little lady desires." Alastor stated, looking back down at his wife in a lovestruck daze.

"Yes, Charlie. We're staying." Y/n laughed, "Things need to start changing around here and I don't see anyone else doing a god damn thing to make that happen except for you."

"I.." Charlie was speechless, the kindness this fear inspiring woman was directing towards her, having never met her before. What Husk had said made sense, she smiled, "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but that you both so much."

"Anything for my favorite girl." Alastor kissed Y/n softly.

"Oh, get a room." Angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.

[thethoriumreactor]

alastor with little snek luci

I read a fic where alastor goes out w luci on his shoulders as a snake and the ideas been living rent free in my head since then so there u go

Edited edited edit (sorry): actually I was mostly inspired by this post (screenshot below) but I’ll still link Permission to Touch because the sketches were a little based on chapter 4 anyway

(doodling Lucifer being annoyed by alastor is my new hobby) (along w alastor making fun of Lucifer)

[dewdropdinosaur]

Bite Dirty, Love Sweet

Alastor x F. Reader Summary: Alastor's girlfriend wears something more than scandalous (at least to him) out for a night on the town. Whatever will he do? Warnings: Cuss words, illusions to sex, PG-13. Consume media at your own discretion.

The moment Alastor walked into Y/N’s room unannounced, though he’d never admit to barging in as it was ungentlemanly and he was anything but, his smile faltered. There she was, sitting at her vanity, eyeliner in one hand, a tube of deep red lipstick in the other. But it wasn’t the makeup that stunned him; in fact, the red lip was a classic he had come to love. Nor the eyeliner, a striking but subtle cat eye never bothered him, it made her eyes pop. No, no. It was…her dress. Sleek, backless, glittering ever so slightly in the low light, it hugged her curves in a way that the Radio Demon, raised on the strict sensibilities of the 1930s, found…utterly scandalous.

He cleared his throat, but Y/N didn’t even look up. “Darling���my my, you look…” he struggled to find a word that wasn’t “indecent,” “ravishing,” or “please change right now.” Finally, he settled on a strained, “,bold.”

Y/N arched a brow at him in the mirror, a smirk already forming. “It’s a going-out dress, Al. Angel picked it out. You know, for clubbing?” She dragged the lipstick slowly across her lower lip. 

“We’re going out tonight.”

“With him?” Alastor's voice twitched in volume. “Angel Dust?”

“Yes,” she said simply, blotting her lips with a tissue. “He’s fun, and he doesn’t judge what I wear.” The jab landed exactly where she meant it to, and Alastor’s frown deepened, eyes glowing a touch brighter. She had done this on purpose had she? That devilish little smirk on her face certaintly made him think so. 

“That dress is… scandalous. Y/N, surely you have something a bit more… modest? Perhaps something with sleeves? And a hemline that doesn’t threaten to abandon you mid-step?” He approached as she stood up, his eyes scanning her ensemble like deer in headlights..

She turned to him fully now, arms folded. “Oh come on, Al. It’s not like I’m stripping on stage. It’s a dress. A cute one. You don’t have to approve it. I’m wearing it because I like how I look in it.”

Alastor sputtered a little, that cheerful smile of his twitching like static interference. “But…but, this is Hell! A dangerous, salacious place! You’re drawing attention, the wrong kind of attention.”

Filtering through he closet, Alastor started to pull out various coats, long-sleeved dresses, even a pair of tights, and began holding them up to his partner like a mannequin.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly. This is Hell. Where demons literally eat people. I think I can handle some attention from strangers at a nightclub, Alastor. And what I do wear? Not your business.”

Shoving him out of the way, Y/N began to walk away from him. The disrespect, the silent treatment?! He should stop her, snap his fingers, and change her outfit; she should....

He opened his mouth to argue, but for once, nothing clever came out. Instead, he let out a long, uncharacteristically mortal sigh. “I… suppose you’re right.”

Her expression softened, and that mischievous smile curved on her lips again. “Damn right, I am.” She stepped closer, tilting her head. “But… I appreciate the concern, really.” 

Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek. Alastor stood stock still, stunned by the warmth of the kiss. His eyes widened just in time for her to grab his tie and pull him down into a real kiss, smearing red lipstick across his mouth and leaving him breathless. When she finally pulled away, she winked. 

“Thanks for the approval, darling.”

He was still frozen in place when she clicked down the stairs, heels echoing through the hall, calling Angel’s name. Alastor’s fingers ghosted over his lips, now painted in a deep shade. He blinked, slowly, smile twitching wider as the static in his mind finally returned to melody. That was when Husk shuffled past with a bored look and a bottle in hand. He paused mid-step and gave Alastor a once-over. 

“You good, boss?”

“I’m fine, Husker. Just peachy,” Alastor replied, voice a little higher than usual.

Husk tilted his head. “Sorry, boss. It’s just, ugh, you look a little… red there.” He motioned vaguely to Alastor’s face.

Realizing the lipstick was still smeared across his mouth, Alastor’s smile faltered for a brief moment, and then, with a flare of cartoonish energy, he whirled on his heel. “Excuse me…” he said with far too much sweetness. “I have unfinished business with a very cheeky young lady.”

“Boss, I wouldn’t….ah fuck.” Husk muttered, watching the demon disappear into a red haze.

Alastor moved through the hallways like he was ready to either kill someone or… have his way with them. Y/N had bested him. Publicly, smugly, and with lipstick no less. The Radio Demon could not, would not, let that be the final word. Not tonight. If she wanted attention, she was going to get all of his. He was going to find her, and then, oh yes, he was going to kiss her again, properly. Just to prove a point, of course. Nothing more. 

[jyoongim]

Can I request and Alastor x reader where she was his wife when they were alive but she ends up in heaven while in her early 20’s due to being murdered on her way home from his radio station one night. She never knew about Alastor’s crimes but she finds out about the extermination at the meeting Charlie has with heaven and sneaks down during the next extermination not knowing if Alastor is still alive or not? Maybe some magic like reader singing No Good Deed from Wicked trying to prevent Alastor from being harmed or killed? Once they find each other I can’t imagine Alastor ever letting her leave again, not even to heaven. Can I request a bit of fluff and maybe NSFW to make up for the time spent apart? Thank you!

Title: Ruined Redemption 

Warnings: 18+! NSFW, angel!wife Reader, fem!reader, reader & Alastor married, mention of past life, mention of death, demon!alastor, fluff, creampie, rough sex, French, Heaven & Hell, am i missing something????

”You sure you dont want me to walk you home cher? I can wrap up right now” Alastor said as you pressed your soft lips to his cheek. You reassured him you would be fine. That you were perfectly capable of getting home without him escorting you.  “No no ill be fine promise. Just dont stay too late hmm? I would love to have my husband in our bed for once when the sun ain’t risin’” you said, glaring at him playfully. 

He chuckled, nodding ”Be careful on your way home cher, it ain’t safe for a doll like yourself to be roamin’ the streets at this time of night” Alastor said as you waved goodbye.

“I love you”

The stars twinkled in the sky as you stared up at them.

You blinked, raising a weak hand up to them.

 Blood.

You were bleeding. 

You had took a shortcut to get home and a man had grabbed you into a dark alleyway.

He tried to take advantage of you but you resisted, angry that you wouldn’t be a easy target he slit your throat so you wouldn’t cry out, leaving you to bleed out onto the cold concrete.

Your wedding ring shined at you. You let out a gurgle,

Alastor…

You use to think that people were lyin’ when they said your life flashed when times of death, but tears welled in your eyes as every memory of you and Alastor came to your mind.

The night you met Alastor was the last one you saw as you heaved your last breath.

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

”Did you forget Hell is forever?”

You sat at the council meeting as the princess of Hell tried to reason with Sera. You were saddened that the Angels went down and executed the soul of the damned.

You thought the idea of rehabilitating souls was a good idea. 

You had waited years to see Alastor, but you quickly became concerned when each year he didn’t pass through those pearly gates.

Alastor was in Hell. At least you had hoped. 

You heard that the next extermination was soon and you plotted to descend to Hell to find your lost lover.

Alastor please be okay 

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

Hell wasn’t as bad as you thought. 

You quickly found the hotel the princess hosted and knocked on the door.

”Oh why hello- wait you’re-” Charlie stuttered.

You gave her a smile. You must have looked ridiculous, an Angel at her door and with the extermination approaching.

”D-Do you know Alastor?” You asked, almost pleading that you hoped your lover was at her hotel.

She blinked and nodded, letting you inside.

”I thought your idea was bees knees by the way”you said as she ushered you to sit on a couch.

”W-Why thank you! But…how do you know Alastor?” She asked.

You fiddled with your ring. “Well you see I’m his-”

”Darlin’? ” a voice interrupted you.

You almost broke your neck turning around. You let out a gasp “A-Alastor?”

A tall red demon stood in the archway.

He was dressed in all red, save for the few black accents.

His face dawned shocked, though his smile never faltered. But you saw it was tense.

You stood up and approached him.

Theres no way this was your Alastor…

You subconsciously reached a hand to his face “A-Alastor…is it really you?”

He leaned into your touch, grasping your wrist softly

”Mon cher…”

Your eyes welled with tears and you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face in his chest.

Still in shock, Alastor wrapped his lanky arms around you.

Whiskey and sandalwood. That was the scent that flooded your nose, same scent that always clung to him.

”I t-thought i would never see you again” you cried.

”what are you doing here?” You asked

He smiled “I should be askin you the same thing. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be down here”

You didn’t even realize that an audience had gathered.

”what’s white wings doing down here?”

You eased your grip on him, actually taking him in.

He looked nothing like your Alastor, but you knew it was him.

”Oh baby what could you have done to land yourself in hell?” You asked.

The tall spider gave a laugh “Freaky face there is one of hell’s most powerful Overlords toots”

Alastor glared at him before looking down at you “Its a rather unpleasant story my dear, but I guess I should tell you now”

And tell you he did.

You wouldn’t have thought that your Alastor was the one who had once terrorized your city.

Your husband was…You had married a killer.

”regret marrying me doll?”he asked at your shocked face.

You shook your head “Never” you gave him a smile “But you’re at a hotel that promotes soul redemption?”

He laughed “Just a little investment of mine to pass the time. I have no notion to redeem my soul”

This caused you to panic “B-but the extermination!”

He caressed your cheek “Don’t worry about that, I wont let anything happen”

You huffed, deciding to trust him “Well aren’t you gonna introduce me?” You asked turning to give your full attention to the bunch.

”Why of course! Everyone this pretty doll is my darling wife” he beamed

”WIFE!?”

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

Alastor took you on a tour of the hotel. You walked, arms interlocked as he showed you around.

You laughed when he brought you to his radio tower “Just couldn’t let it go huh?” You had said, earning a laugh.

He led you to his bedroom. You marveled at how it suited him. There was a swamp that split up the room.

A true southern man you sighed.

You sat on his bed, taking it all in.

Alastor couldn’t believe that you were here.

He thought that he would never see you again.

He had figured that you were in Heaven after a few decades.

You were his sweet little wife. You were the only good thing in his life.

He absolutely lost his mind when he was told you were killed on your way home.

He should have walked you home.

Your death weighed on him for decades. Even in death.

But here you were.

You hadn’t changed a day. Well the wings and halo were new.

”Mon cher…” He approached you, voice dropping the static and kneeled before you. 

You were real and you were here.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he laid his head on your lap.

Your hands found his hair, massaging his scalp. You tickled at his ears and giggled when they twitched.

”je suis désolé mon amour. je suis tellement désolé que tu aies connu un sort aussi cruel. si j'étais juste rentré à la maison avec toi... je suis vraiment désolé” his heart was pounding as he nuzzled into your stomach.

You smiled at his words. You cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to yours “it wasn’t your fault Al. Things happen. All that matters is that we are together again. ‘Ill defy death itself to be with you," were our vows remember?”

Alastor moved quickly. He gently pushed you onto your back as he climbed over you.

”tell me…tell me our vows again”

He tugged at his bow tie and stripped off his jacket, you retracted your wings as you watched him

”A-Al?” You whispered, suddenly breathless.

”please…tell me our wedding vows”

”From the moment our paths crossed, it was always you.

It was the moment we met that I saw everything. 

Our future.” 

He unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You were everything i ever dreamed of and became so much more. 

I love you.”

He leaned down to kiss you

“Heaven and Earth cannot compare to how much I love you. 

Through the good and bad, Ill always love you.

 I give my heart and soul to you to cherish for an eternity ”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he peppered wet kisses along your neck

”Ill reap the Earth to and tear the Heavens apart to remain bound to you”

You gasped as he nipped your shoulder

”This love I give can never die. For Ill defy death itself to forever be with you.”

he buttoned your shirt, brushing a thumb over your nipples. A shiver ran through you.

”For death itself could never part us. 

I am yours forever and always and ill raise Hell if death tried to part us ”

You moaned softly as he took a nipple into his mouth.

“Alastor…”

The rest of your clothing was quickly removed.

You almost wanted to cover yourself.

When was the last time you were intimate with Alastor?

You felt like you were on your wedding night all over again.

”You’re as beautiful as when you were alive my dear”. He whispered, spreading your thighs.

You jumped feeling his hand skim your exposed clit.

You were embarrassed with how wet you were.

he still had that effect on you, even in the afterlife.

Your breath hitched as he dipped a finger inside you

Alastor groaned, you felt just as you did before.

You pulled him to your face, your face flushed and eyes lidded. Your soft lips met his as he worked your cunt.

”Alastor please” you whined against his lips.

You were always such an impatient thing.

But he would never deny you.

He growled ”If I fuck you Ill never let you go. You’ll never see those pearly gates again if you let me have you. So tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me and Ill stop” he shimmied out of his pant, freeing his cock.

Alastor was lying. Even if you told him to stop and you didn’t want this he would never let you go back to Heaven.

Not when he just got you back.

Your lips met his again, the kiss was filled with longing and passion.

”I never want to be without you again”

He slammed his lips on yours again as he slid his cock into you, swallowing your squeal as you took him.

Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk

He gave a few soft thrusts to make sure you adjusted well to him.

You panted into the crook of his neck. Nails clawing into his back as he rocked into you.

A cry ripped from your throat as he gained momentum.

”Aahh!”

This was different. So different from when you were alive.

Alastor was always passionate in bed with you, but this…this was so…you couldn’t even describe it.

a word popped into your head.

Divine

The way he fucked you told of how much he had missed you. 

Decades of being apart melting away as he pounded into you.

You locked your ankles behind his waist.

”You always take me so good cher. So so so good” He moaned into your ear.

The sound of skin hitting skin and your soft moans filled the air.

His cock hit that soft sweet spot inside you making you wetter.

”Ill ruin you. Fuck you til you’re drenched in me. Until your very scent is covered in me.” a harsh thrust brought him to be buried to the hilt.

Alastor smirked as your cunt fluttered

”You want that doll? To be ruined? To never see Heaven again? Hmmm you’ll throw away your salivation to be fucked by a demon like me?”

The telltale squelch of your cunt was his answer.

He would be damned if he ever let you out of his sight again.

His pace turned rough, he could feel himself changing.

”Alastor?” You felt him get bigger. His body morphed and when you looked at him, he expected fear.

But you looked in awe as he turned into his demon form.

Antlers big as willow branches, eyes black and glowing red like dials. He was disheveled.

He looked like a wild beast.

And he was fucking you like one.

All you could do was hang onto him. Letting him take you like you would disappear.

”ooh fuck aaahh please please” you cried as he fucked you, rutting into you with so much force you swear the bed was knocking against the wall.

You  felt your thighs tremble from taking his brute thrusts. That familiar tingle forming in your stomach.

were you gonna cum? Could you cum?

guess you’ll find out

Your demon husband was fucking you and you were gonna cum.

on his demon cock…oh heavens…

”Tu vas jouir, chérie ? Tu vas laisser un démon t'arracher ta libération ? Vous voulez que? hmmm? Tu veux jouir sur la bite de ton démon ? laisse-moi l'avoir chérie”

He purred, fucking into you so hard that a slight bulge was present.

He was going to break you. Ruin you.

He unhooked your legs, pushing one to your chest to get a better angle. Hitting those spots that had you seeing stars.

”A-Al! Oooh fu-fuuuck! I-I’m cumming oh my g-”

A large claw hand covered your lips

He snarled “There’s no God here sweetheart. Now. Cum”

Your body seized, feeling like a fire had set off as your organ ripped through you.

Alastor slapped his mouth over yours to eat your cries.

He thrusted into feverishly, seeking to paint your heavenly walls white with his cum as he fucked you through your orgasm.

”that’s a good girl, milking me dry”

He gently cradled your limp head, nipping at your swollen lips “where you want me cher? Cause i got half a mind to soak you in my cum”

You whined “i-inside…please cum inside me Alastor…baby please!”

He grinned “As you wish”

His pace quickened and with a low growl he emptied his cum into your cunt, sighing as he filled you til it spilled around him.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, wincing at the emptiness that he left behind, feeling his cum drip down your ass.

Alastor purred like an engine as he took you into his arms, basking in the afterglow as you cuddled into his side.

This is where you belonged.

By his side.

He’ll tear Heaven apart if they tried to take you back.

You were the Radio Demon’s.

Forever and always

@jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @markster666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @horrorartsworld @gojosaturos-wife @ioniiaa @alstorloml @polytheatrix @catherine69420 @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @night-owl-2000

@dennsfz @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @imgonnadielaughing-blog @eviebuggg @scaramoochiie @siiv3r

@sugerrush69 @wedream-wecreate @jazzmasternot @k1y0yo @prosciuttosblog @yourdoorisunlocked

Comment if you want to be tagged!!!

[other-lxxahazel]

could you do smth with y/n being oblivious to Alastor trying to court them but oddly enough y/n becomes fascinated with his shadows and he uses it to impress them 0^0 if not its okay ignore this, make sure to stay healthy!

✎ I'll take this request as part two of Oblivion because it's like it can be connected to it 😭 many are already asking for part two that's why I'm so FREAKING thankful to this anon for giving me an idea! (I want to add friend you so freaking bad Anon 😭😭)

╰┈➤ Oblivion (2)

The apple tarts, once baked, vanished with alarming speed, a testament to your baking prowess and the hotel residents' enduring sweet tooth. Alastor, to his internal chagrin, had even taken a bite, his smile fixed and unwavering as he offered a polite, if strained, compliment on its "fascinating texture." He'd endured it, savored the proximity you’d offered, yet the fundamental problem remained: your utterly impenetrable obliviousness. He’d orchestrated an entire baking charade, suffered the cloying scent of sugar, and still, you saw him merely as an enthusiastic, if clumsy, culinary student. The thought was enough to make his static crackle with a frustrated snarl.

He was Alastor, the Radio Demon, a being whose will was absolute, yet here he was, reduced to elaborate theatricals for the sole purpose of making a single, delightful soul realize he harbored an unprecedented, maddening affection for her. It was… undignified. It was infuriating. He found himself pacing his radio tower, the air thick with his mounting annoyance, the usual jazz music occasionally interrupted by sharp bursts of feedback. He knew, intellectually, that he was becoming desperate. A sliver of his rational mind screamed at him to simply state his intentions, to assert his claim as he would with any other territory or soul. But then, there was the matter of Pride.

His pride, sharp and unyielding as a freshly honed blade, forbade such a direct confession. To admit weakness, to lay bare such a vulnerable emotion, was anathema to his very being. He was the one who controlled, who manipulated, who held all the cards. To confess would be to surrender a piece of that control, to expose a facet of himself he’d spent eons burying. And then there was the dreadful, horrifying possibility of… rejection. The thought sent a jolt of ice through him, quickly masked by a furious burst of static. No, directness was out of the question. He had to maintain the illusion of casual interest, of detached amusement, even as his internal world churned with unfamiliar longing.

He observed you constantly, a silent, ever-present specter. He’d watch you reading, sketching, even simply tidying up the hotel’s often-chaotic common areas. He noted the way your eyes would light up when you spoke of your hobbies, the gentle curve of your smile when you were lost in thought. And it was during one such observation that he noticed something else, something peculiar and, to his surprise, potentially useful.

You were sitting by a sunbeam filtering through a grimy window, sketching in a worn notebook. His own shadow, always hovering near him, stretched across the floor, partially obscuring the light from your paper. Instead of being annoyed, you simply paused, tilting your head. Then, with a slow, almost curious movement, you reached out and gently, tentatively, petted the amorphous mass of his shadow. You stroked it like one might stroke a particularly docile pet, your fingers ghosting over the darkness. His shadow, a sentient extension of his will, rippled in response, a silent hum of surprise echoing in Alastor’s mind. You smiled, a soft, content expression, and then went back to your drawing, occasionally reaching out to absentmindedly stroke the shadow again.

A nefarious, yet brilliant, idea sparked in Alastor’s mind. He couldn't express vulnerability, or perform overtly affectionate gestures himself. It went against every fiber of his being, every carefully constructed façade of the ruthless Radio Demon. But his shadow… his shadow was another matter entirely. His shadow was an extension, yes, but also a separate entity, something he could command to do things he would never deign to do. It was the perfect scapegoat, the ideal intermediary. He could project his desires, his desperate yearning for affection, onto his shadow, and should you ever question it, he could simply blame the erratic nature of the demonic entity. Brilliant.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The next day, Alastor put his plan into action. He found you in the dining room, attempting to untangle a particularly stubborn knot in a long piece of decorative ribbon for some hotel event. You muttered under your breath, utterly absorbed. Alastor stepped into the room, his form casting a long, distinct shadow. He commanded it, silently, mentally: Engage.

His shadow rippled, detaching slightly from his feet, and flowed across the floor towards you like dark ink. You looked up, startled, but then your eyes widened in fascination as the shadow, instead of merely resting, began to shift. It lengthened, then narrowed into a slender, almost finger-like appendage. It reached out, hovered over the ribbon, and with surprising gentleness, began to prod and manipulate the knot. Its movements were fluid, almost delicate, a stark contrast to Alastor’s usual forceful precision. You watched, captivated, as the shadow patiently worked, subtly pulling here, nudging there, until with a final, almost imperceptible flick, the knot loosened and unraveled.

"Oh, wow!" you breathed, eyes wide. "Thank you, Alastor's shadow! That was amazing!" You leaned down, your fingers reaching out to lightly tap the shadow's 'surface' in appreciation.

Alastor felt a strange, almost physical thrum in his chest as you praised his shadow. He stood stiffly, a detached smile on his face, but internally, he was preening. He offered a noncommittal chuckle. "Ah, yes, my shadow can be… quite resourceful when it wishes to be. Always surprising me, that one." He infused his voice with a feigned annoyance, as if the shadow's helpfulness was an unexpected burden.

Over the next few days, the shadow became his primary instrument of "covert" affection. You had a messy strand of hair falling into your eyes while you worked? Alastor would appear, and his shadow would deftly lift the strand, tucking it behind your ear with a softness that he would never directly exhibit. You'd instinctively lean into the gentle touch, humming contentedly. Alastor, meanwhile, would simply observe, his internal monologue a chaotic blend of triumph and a strange, unfamiliar yearning. Yes, my dear, feel the gentle touch. This is what I long to give you, had my nature not been so… direct.

One particularly chilly evening, as you shivered slightly in the surprisingly drafty lounge, Alastor entered. Before you could even voice a complaint, his shadow stretched out, swirling around your shoulders like a living shawl, seemingly radiating a subtle warmth. You gasped, then giggled, snuggling into the inexplicable comfort. "Oh, Alastor's shadow, you're so cozy!" you murmured, your hand reaching up to pat the shadowy "fabric" wrapped around you.

Alastor felt a pang, sharp and unwelcome. He stood a few feet away, poker-faced, but his mind screamed. She's patting my shadow! She's comfortable with my shadow! She's getting warm from my shadow! He wanted to be the one providing the warmth, the comfort. He wanted your touch, your soft murmurs directed at him. But he couldn’t. His pride, his carefully constructed persona, forbade it. So he merely chuckled, a dry, radio-static laden sound. "Indeed. Quite the… obliging companion, isn't it?"

The shadow, however, seemed to revel in your attention. Alastor often found it stretching towards you of its own accord, almost as if sensing his unspoken commands, performing small acts of service or comfort. It would hold objects for you, shield your eyes from sudden flashes of light, or even, once, untangle a particularly stubborn shoelace while Alastor watched, a rigid smile plastered on his face, a growing sense of disquiet swirling within him.

You, meanwhile, had grown genuinely fond of Alastor's shadow. You spoke to it, thanked it, and sometimes, when you thought no one was looking, you'd reach out and gently stroke its form, as if petting a cherished companion. You'd even given it a silly little nickname: "Shady."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The "Shady" nickname grated on Alastor's nerves more than he cared to admit. It implied a familiarity, an almost intimacy, that you withheld from him. Yet, he persevered, instructing his shadow to perform increasingly complex and oddly tender acts.

One morning, you were humming a forgotten tune as you meticulously watered the hotel’s potted plants – some of which still occasionally tried to bite. A particularly thorny vine snagged on your sleeve, threatening to tear the fabric. Before you could react, Alastor’s shadow darted out. Instead of simply pulling it free, the shadow gently, almost coaxingly, untangled the tendril, its dark form shifting to mimic the delicate movements of fingers. It then lingered, its 'hand' briefly brushing yours before retracting. You looked up, a soft smile on your face. "Oh, Shady, you're so careful! Thank you." You leaned down and patted the shadow's surface, a gesture that made Alastor's internal static buzz with a frustrated mix of triumph and agony.

Another time, during one of Charlie's overly enthusiastic, yet ultimately ineffective, "team-building exercises," you found yourself awkwardly trying to balance a stack of wobbly, oddly-shaped demonic board game pieces. Just as they threatened to topple, Alastor’s shadow flowed around you, acting as an impromptu brace, holding the pieces steady until you could secure them. You glanced at Alastor, who merely offered his usual wide grin, but then turned back to the shadow. "You're always there when I need you, aren't you, Shady?" you murmured, a genuine fondness in your voice. Alastor felt a sharp, unwelcome stab in his chest. I am always there. I am the one orchestrating this!

He even commanded his shadow to do things that hinted at a softer, more protective nature he actively suppressed. If you coughed, the shadow would manifest a tiny, ethereal cup, seeming to offer a silent drink. If you sighed in exasperation, it would gently pat your arm. These were acts of pure, unadulterated solicitude, gestures Alastor would never permit himself to display openly. He watched, always watched, hoping to see a spark of recognition, a flicker of something more than just casual appreciation in your eyes. But you remained, frustratingly, adorably, oblivious. You simply took these acts as quirky, endearing traits of Alastor's unusual companion, attributing them to the shadow’s own, seemingly independent, personality.

This increasing personification of his shadow by you was becoming a serious problem. You’d chat with it, sometimes even confide in it about your day, treating it less like a sentient extension of a powerful demon and more like a quiet, comforting friend. You found joy in its silent presence, its helpfulness, its uncanny ability to anticipate your needs. Alastor heard these soft conversations, watched these gentle interactions, and felt a burning resentment blossom within him. It was getting harder to maintain his facade of detached amusement.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

This was where Alastor’s brilliant plan began to unravel. The thing he thought could be his unassailable advantage slowly, insidiously, became his torment. He found himself being jealous. Jealous of his own shadow.

The jealousy was a foreign, noxious emotion, coiling in his gut like a venomous snake. He, the Radio Demon, a being of immense power and cold ambition, was jealous of an extension of his own being. It was absurd. It was humiliating. And yet, there it was, burning hot and inescapable every time you offered his shadow a gentle touch, a fond word, a quiet smile that you never quite gave him with the same unreserved affection.

He yearned for what his shadow was earning from you. He yearned for your hand to rest on his arm, not merely brush against it. He yearned for your genuine, unguarded smile to be directed solely at him, not the amorphous dark shape he controlled. He yearned for you to lean into his presence, to find comfort and warmth in his proximity, not just his commanded reflection.

One afternoon, you were struggling to reach a particularly ancient, heavy tome on a high shelf in the hotel’s ridiculously tall library. Alastor appeared, as if on cue, his staff resting lightly against his shoulder. His shadow immediately extended, gracefully plucking the book down and placing it gently into your hands.

"Oh, Shady, you're the best!" you exclaimed, laughing softly as you patted the shadow, which rippled contentedly under your touch. "So much more helpful than Alastor sometimes!" You glanced at him and winked playfully, completely missing the flicker of something sharp in his crimson eyes. "No offense, Alastor!"

Alastor’s smile wavered, a barely perceptible twitch. No offense? No offense?! His shadow had just performed a task that he could have done with a snap of his fingers, a gesture that was meant to showcase his protective nature, and his own shadow was getting the credit, and worse, your playful affection. A low, almost inaudible growl rumbled in his chest, quickly covered by a cheerful burst of static. "None taken, my dear," he managed, though his grip on his staff tightened imperceptibly, his knuckles turning white beneath the red glove. His shadow, sensing his sudden, intense irritation, shrunk back slightly, as if attempting to placate its furious master.

The situation was getting… annoying. Beyond annoying. It was maddening. He had created the perfect shield for his pride, but in doing so, he had created a rival, a rival that was literally a part of him. He found himself resentful of his shadow’s successes, even though those successes were entirely by his own command. He wanted to snatch your hand away from it, to demand your attention be solely on him. He wanted to banish the damn shadow to the darkest corners of Hell if it meant getting your unadulterated affection.

He began subtly withdrawing the shadow, making it less readily available. He’d make it appear only briefly, perform its commanded task, and then retract it quickly, hoping you’d start to seek him out for help. But you, in your characteristic obliviousness, simply thought the shadow was busy, or perhaps just having an "off day," or that it was being "shy."

"Is Shady feeling alright?" you once asked him, your brow furrowed with genuine concern as his shadow flickered erratically before vanishing mid-gesture. "It seemed a bit… tired lately."

Alastor nearly choked on his internal scream. Tired? His shadow? It was an extension of his very being, powered by his own demonic energy! He was just trying to subtly redirect your adoration! "Perfectly fine, my dear. Perhaps it merely needed a moment of… quietude," he replied, his smile stretched thin, betraying none of the furious maelstrom churning within him.

The internal conflict raged. His pride demanded he maintain distance, his fear of vulnerability screamed against confession, but his burgeoning, desperate love for you yearned for connection. And his shadow, the very tool he'd designed to bridge that gap, had become a frustrating, affectionate barrier in itself. He wanted to feel your soft touch, to hear your affectionate words, not have them filtered through a demonic extension of himself.

As time passed, the thing he thought could be his advantage became not. He felt a burning jealousy every time your attention strayed to his shadow, every time you spoke to it with a familiarity you hadn't quite yet granted him. He found himself yearning for what his shadow was earning from her. He was Alastor, for crying out loud! The Radio Demon! He didn't yearn for anything, let alone affection from a mere soul, let alone affection his own shadow was monopolizing! It was getting… Annoying. And somewhere, deep within the tangled, unyielding fortress of his pride, Alastor knew, with a terrifying certainty, that his next move would have to be far more direct, far more perilous to his carefully constructed façade. Because if this continued, he might just find himself strangling his own shadow.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Alastor’s frustration simmered, a low, constant crackle beneath his usually composed façade. The jealousy, a bitter, acidic taste he found utterly repulsive, intensified with every affectionate murmur you directed at his shadow. He was the Radio Demon, for crying out loud! The very idea that his own extension, a mere projection of his will, was garnering more genuine, unguarded affection from you than he, the master behind it all, was almost unbearable. He found himself fantasizing about sending his shadow on permanent "vacation" to some desolate, lightless corner of Hell, just to see if your attention would, by sheer force of habit, finally gravitate towards him.

His pride, usually his unbreakable shield, felt like a brittle shell, cracking under the relentless pressure of this ridiculous, unprecedented emotion. To confess overtly was still out of the question – it reeked of weakness, of vulnerability, of a desperate plea for something that should simply be. Yet, the subtle machinations, the calculated displays of chivalry via his shadow, had clearly failed. You remained charmingly, maddeningly dense. He was trapped in a self-made purgatory of unexpressed affection, tormented by the success of his own proxy.

One sweltering afternoon, the hotel's antiquated air conditioning finally sputtered its last breath, sending a wave of oppressive heat through the building. Charlie, ever the delegator, had tasked everyone with finding solutions. You, ever resourceful, decided the best course was to try and clear out some of the dust and demonic cobwebs that had accumulated in the higher, usually ignored vents in the grand ballroom.

Alastor found you there, perched precariously on a rickety, ancient ladder, armed with a feather duster and a determined expression. The ballroom was unusually quiet, most residents having fled to cooler, shadier corners of the hotel. He watched, a faint hum of static building in his ears, as you stretched, reaching for a particularly stubborn patch of grime near the ceiling. The ladder wobbled ominously.

"My dear," Alastor drawled, stepping into the room, his voice sharp with a sudden, uncharacteristic edge of alarm. "Perhaps a sturdier apparatus would be… advisable?"

You giggled, not looking down. "Oh, this old thing's fine, Alastor! Just gotta lean into it." You stretched higher, a bead of sweat trickling down your temple. "Almost got it!"

But the ladder groaned, a splintering sound echoing through the cavernous room. Your eyes widened as it began to tilt violently, slowly, inevitably. Before you could even cry out, before your own reflexes could kick in, Alastor moved.

It wasn't a shadow’s gentle nudge this time. It was instinct, raw and unthinking, overriding centuries of careful detachment. In a flash of crimson, Alastor was there. His staff clattered forgotten to the floor. His large, gloved hands shot out, not to simply steady the ladder, but to catch you. He seized your waist, pulling you off the teetering contraption with a sudden, powerful yank, bringing you crashing against his chest.

You gasped, the air knocked from your lungs, your feather duster falling unheeded to the floor. Your face was pressed against the crisp fabric of his coat, the unsettlingly fast beat of a heart you hadn’t known he possessed thrumming against your ear. Your hands instinctively flattened against his chest, seeking balance.

"Are you quite alright, my dear?" Alastor's voice was devoid of its usual cheerful radio filter, stripped bare of all artifice. It was rough, urgent, laced with a genuine concern that made the hair on your arms stand on end. His crimson eyes, usually so amused and calculating, were wide, dilated, and filled with an intensity you had never witnessed. They bore into yours, devoid of his usual smile, showing a flash of pure, raw fear that was completely, utterly un-Alastor.

For the first time, in that suffocatingly close moment, pressed against his rigid form, the scent of brimstone and something uniquely him filling your senses, you saw it. The genuine alarm in his eyes. The way his hands, still gripping your waist with surprising tenderness, were trembling ever so slightly. The rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your palm. This wasn't the detached Alastor who joked about cannibalism. This wasn't the Alastor whose shadow lent a helping hand. This was him. Exposed. Vulnerable. And utterly, terrifyingly, worried about you.

His shadow, which had darted out the moment the ladder tilted, now hovered nearby, not intervening, but watching, almost with a knowing stillness. It seemed to have faded slightly, its edges less defined, as if its master's direct, unthinking action had momentarily usurped its role.

The silence in the ballroom stretched, broken only by the distant sounds of the hotel and the surprisingly loud thumping of Alastor’s heart. Your eyes, wide with a sudden, blinding realization, slowly drifted from his frantic gaze down to his gloved hands still clamped around your waist, then back up to his face.

The gifts. The constant proximity. The possessive stretches of his shadow. The way he always seemed to be there. The subtle brushes. The baking charade. All of it, every single confounding action, suddenly clicked into place with the sickening force of a falling domino. He wasn't being friendly. He wasn't being peculiar. He was… he was trying to court you. He was showing affection. And you, in your blissful, impenetrable ignorance, had missed every single sign.

Your cheeks flushed a deep, mortified crimson. Not from embarrassment about the fall, but from the horrifying realization of your own monumental obliviousness. And then, a new, exhilarating warmth spread through you, a feeling that had nothing to do with Hell's oppressive heat.

Alastor, sensing the shift in your gaze, the sudden change in your breath, slowly became aware of how intimately he was holding you. His eyes, though still intense, regained a sliver of their usual cunning. The moment of raw emotion, of unguarded vulnerability, had passed. His smile began to return, slowly, almost imperceptibly, stretching across his face, trying to rebuild the mask of nonchalance.

He loosened his grip slightly, though he did not fully release you. "Forgive my… abruptness, my dear," he purred, his radio filter returning, albeit with a faint, trembling undertone. "But one simply cannot allow such a delightful resident to suffer an unfortunate tumble. It would simply not do." He attempted a jaunty chuckle, but it sounded a little forced, a little strained.

You, however, were no longer listening to the words. You were staring at the single vein still throbbing ever so faintly at his temple, a physical manifestation of his barely contained emotion. You were looking at the raw fear that had momentarily consumed his eyes, a fear that was clearly for you.

"Alastor," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes wide with revelation. "You… you like me." It wasn't a question, but a dawning, incredulous statement.

His smile froze. The radio static surrounding him spiked, a harsh, painful screech that reverberated through the ballroom, making the remaining light fixtures flicker erratically. His shadow, which had been observing, suddenly dissolved completely, as if unable to bear the directness of the moment. Alastor’s eyes, now back to their usual, unnervingly focused red, bore into yours. He had been caught. His carefully constructed wall of pride and control had just been breached by a single, simple, blindingly obvious statement.

A long, excruciating silence descended, broken only by the crackle of Alastor’s own internal turmoil. His facade was crumbling, and he knew it. There was no retreat, no witty deflection, no blaming the shadow now.

He cleared his throat, his smile wavering for the first time you had ever seen. He tightened his grip on your waist just for a fraction of a second, a small, possessive gesture that felt less like an accident and more like a silent, desperate confession. His voice, when it came, was lower, deeper than usual, completely devoid of its cheerful filter, barely above a murmur.

"My dear," Alastor said, his crimson eyes holding yours, an uncharacteristic sincerity bleeding through their depths. "It seems… that is no longer a secret, is it?"

And in that moment, as the realization solidified into an undeniable truth, and the Radio Demon stood before you, stripped of his usual theatricality, you knew everything had irrevocably changed. The era of oblivion was finally, wonderfully, over. And the dizzying dance of whatever came next had just begun.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

✎ It's end y'all 😭 but idk if you send good ideas i may continue it UwU

[dirtgrubber]

he might be ace but he’s still a cunty flirt

[daily-dose-of-danno]

Danny warping/distorting himself requested by @ectospacecadet :)

Season 1, Episode 1 - Mystery Meat

Season 1, Episode 4 - Attack of the Killer Garage Sale

Season 1, Episode 10 - Shades of Gray

Season 1, episode 16 - Lucky In Love

Season 1, Episode 18 - Life Lessons

Season 2, Episode 3 - Pirate Radio

Season 2, Episode 8 - The Fright Before Christmas

Season 2, Episode 12 - Beauty Marked

Season 2, Episode 16 - Double Cross my Heart

[macabr3-barbi3]

I know you’re on a Vox kick rn but if you get back into Al anytime soon I had a bit of an idea!

Maybe reader was hanging out with Al, not realizing he was courting her (and she was technically accepting) and then she went out and basically cheated on him bcuz she had no clue they were low key together.

Anyway he totally flips and PROVES they’re together…?

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG AHHHHHH

I did go the nsfw route with this one so 👀👀👀 I hope you enjoy!!!

Tags: accidental cheating, semi-public sex, , possessive Alastor, tentacles as a gag sort of lol

MDNI 18+ 3.3k words ❤️🦌

You didn’t think anything of Alastor’s raised eyebrow when you accepted Angel’s offer to join him out at a club, or how his clawed hand grips his cane a little bit tighter when he spots you coming down the stairs in the outfit that the spider had picked out for you. You give him a smile and a wave on your way out the door, and if his eye twitches a little bit, well- Alastor was a weird guy.

Which didn’t negate the fact that he was hot as fuck; not to mention a complete gentleman, and funny, and overall kind when he wasn’t in a murderous rampage and eating people. And sure, he had gotten a little closer to you lately- you enjoyed a cup of coffee together every morning, he always made sure to save you a seat at the dinner table, he would get you little trinkets and bits of jewelry or treats when he was out and about in the city. Whenever you accompanied him to Cannibal Town he insisted on paying the tab, and always made sure to walk you back to your door before retiring for the night; he would invite you to his room for evening tea, and you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder only to awaken tucked comfortably into your bed more time than you could count. Last week he had even given you a peck on the cheek instead of just the back of your hand, a sweet blush overtaking his features before he vanished into the shadows, and it took everything in you not to grab him before he disappeared and invite him into your room.

Because Alastor wasn’t interested in those things. That was what you heard from everyone, from Angel, from Husk when you had drunkenly confessed to him at the bar one night. That it was better to just put the idea from your head, the Radio Demon has never shown any inclination towards things like love and romance or sex. You were loving getting closer to him, becoming a companion he enjoyed spending time with, but you had needs that couldn’t be met by the sweet words and kind gestures of a friend.

Hence, your presence with Angel in Consent. He was here to drink and dance; you were here for that as well, but also maybe a quick hookup in one of the club’s sex rooms. It had been far too long since you’d had a decent tumble in the sheets, and the continuous frustration at being so close to Alastor and perpetually unable to touch was driving you mad. You took the first drink that Angel handed you and knocked it back in one go, smiling when the spider whooped like a lunatic and dragged you out onto the floor.

More than an hour of accepting drinks from Angel (he was the one with money between you) and dancing with any and everyone, it was almost, almost what you needed. The air was hot with how many demons were jammed into the space of the dance floor, sweat dripped down your face and the small of your back, and your chest heaved with the force of your breathing when you finally opted to take a break. You squeezed Angel’s arm in a temporary farewell and made your way to the bar. You thought about putting one more drink on his tab but decided against it, opting to ask for water instead.

“Excuse me,” you hear to your right, and you’re met with the sight of one of the demons that Angel worked with; not one of the actors, but maybe a cameraman? Light technician? Either way, he was someone you had seen around Val’s studio before when you came to collect him at the end of the regularly scheduled nights. He was tall and attractive, and his eyes had seen too many of the shoots in Vee tower because they were just screaming ‘fuck me.’ “Think your boyfriend would object to me buying you a drink, pretty thing?”

“Considering he doesn’t exist I don’t think he would mind,” you say, and when he smiles all sharp teeth at you the low buzz of arousal isn’t quite the same as it usually is with another razor-tipped grin.

He wasn’t Alastor, but you would make do.

-.-.-

It’s barely ten minutes later that you’re walking back to the hotel alone with a stain on your nice, borrowed skirt- you figured with Angel’s line of work he would know how to get it out. You had texted him that you were going home already, too miffed about the shitshow in the sex room to ask him to accompany you, pissed enough that you think you can handle any asshole that might try to mess you with on the way. Val’s lackey had hardly managed some kissing and fingering before thrusting himself into you and giving a few quick pumps before he groaned and stilled against you. Pulling out, he trailed across your hiked up skirt and asked if you had ‘gotten there,’ and you laughed in his face before pulling your shirt back up and leaving.

“Fucking men,” you were muttering under your breath, not noticing the shadows that slipped along the sidewalk behind you as you walked with the strange sensation of the man’s release on your thighs. “Either not interested in sex at all or so fucking eager for it they bust before I can even fucking-”

Something slips around your head and covers your mouth, effectively cutting you off. Your hands come up to grab at it, tear it away, and another circles your waist, dragging you back into the dark shadows of a nearby alley. You bare your claws, eyes flashing red and preparing yourself for a fight when you realize the demon before you is Alastor.

A supremely angry Alastor, by the looks of it. His smile is tense and strained, eyebrows drawn down low in a glare as he looks down at you, nearly a full head shorter than him but refusing to cower under his rage- not realizing that you should probably be scared. “Fuck, you scared me,” you start, pulling the slack shadow tentacle away from your mouth, only for it to tighten once again and force you back into silence.

“This manner of betrayal,” he says carefully, like the words are being plucked from him with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel, “is unacceptable.” His voice goes full static, the intensity of it almost hurting your ears. “Of all the scum that inhabits Hell I’d never have expected this from you, cherie. Tell me,” he demands, trailing a clawed finger down your cheek and removing the shadow over your mouth. “What could have possibly possessed you to act in such a manner?”

“Alastor, what-” The heat of him so close to you, not quite touching but close enough that the slightest movement would slot your bodies against one another, has your brain fuzzy. “Betrayal? What are you talking about?”

“I can fucking smell him on you,” he snarls, and now he does step close enough to touch, caging you between his body and the wall behind you. “His cologne on your clothing, his release on your skin. You claim to not know what I refer to when I could just as soon touch the evidence beneath your skirt before you could deny it?”

A hand comes down to the bottom of your skirt, toying with the hem, and you nearly choke on your breath. The dying arousal you had felt earlier from the demon in the sex room returns at full force, even as confused as you were with the situation, with what Alastor was saying. “Why- fuck, why does that matter? Alastor!”

You cry out in surprise when his fingers reach under your clothing, the brush of his thumb against your inner thigh before he pulls back, the thin substance of your partner’s cum coating his finger. Your face flames with heat when he brings the digit to his mouth and fucking sucks it clean. Somehow, this seems to calm him, his breath steadier and his eyes losing some of the murderous glint to them. “That you would lower yourself in this way,” he murmurs, his smile twisting into something sarcastic and hurt, “when you’ve had an attentive, willing beau this entire time that you’ve not deigned to touch, or asked to touch you in return?”

“B-beau?” His hand has returned to the space below the hem of your skirt, tracing patterns into the soft skin there, only distracting you a little. “What-”

“Perhaps a lesson, hmm? To remind you of who, exactly, you belong to. Of course darling, we’ll first have to rid you of the evidence of your transgressions…” And in a move that shocks you almost as much as it makes your stomach clench and swoop, the Radio Demon drops to his knees on the damp, dirty asphalt of the alley.

Your breath punches out of you when he looks up at you, head level with your lower body, and asks, “or do you have any objections to that?” With his hands fisted in the fabric of your skirt.

“No! No objections, fuck, please” you manage, and then your pussy is met with the cool air of the night as he shoves your skirt up and your panties simply vanish. It’s hardly a moment of anticipation before his tongue is pressed against you, warm and slick and circling incessantly at your swollen clit and then dipping down, licking at you with determination that makes you cry out, the sound echoing in the alley. “Alast-” 

A tendril of shadow pushes past your lips, and Alastor hums against your pelvis below you. “Quiet now, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves with every word. “Already one person too many has seen you in the throes of passion tonight- I’ll be damned if there is another.” He licks your drenched folds again, the strong line of his nose keeping pressure on your clit as he angles his head and pushes in, and your hands fly off the wall to clutch desperately at his hair. The sounds coming from where he’s connected to you are loud and lewd, wet suckling noises as he bends and twists his agile muscle inside of you.

The tentacle thing in your mouth isn’t large enough to choke you, and tiny snippets of sound still escape you from Alastor’s ministrations. Your body feels like a livewire, crackling with energy that stems from where he feasts on you and threatens to shatter outwards, destroying everything in its wake. He pulls back and you whine at the loss, the shadow petting your tongue almost soothingly when Alastor looks up at you, eyes wild. “Almost finished, dear,” he murmurs. “I’ll ensure that every trace of that cretin is gone- he tastes vile, not even this much of him deserves to be anywhere near you.” He releases your skirt at last, his fingers pressing against the entrance of your cunt with a smile and his tongue swiping the evidence of what he was cleaning you of. “A cheap substitution for me, to be sure; allow me to provide a more refined alternative.” His finger hooks inside of you, mindful of the clawed tip, and drags slowly, brushing against that soft spot inside that makes you see the white of static behind your eyelids, makes you clench down hard on the digit before it slides out and Alastor stands to his full height again, satisfied that he has successfully removed the cum of the stranger, hands at his waistband and pulling his belt open with a clink of metal.

He hikes your legs up around his waist, and you feel the hot length of him pressed against your sensitive flesh. "Will you allow me to take you, darling? Feel the sweet clench of you around me at last, and erase every remnant of the unworthy sinner before me?"

“Fuck, yes, Alastor,” you pant when the tentacle slips from your mouth, and fucking finally his lips are on yours, and its everything you had been fantisizing about for months. His tongue glides against yours, licking into the wet cavern of your mouth, and you moan at the taste of yourself on him. Your voice is lost between his teeth when he presses into you, his cock like velvet coated steel against your inner walls, still pulsing and twitching from being right on the edge of your own orgasm. He groans into your mouth when he reaches the hilt, his hands tightening their grip on your hips and bucking his own forward to sheath himself further inside of you.

“Divine,” he murmurs against your mouth, sharp teeth catching on your lips and causing blood to pool on your tongue before he can suck it away. “Perfect, darling- well worth the wait, even considering the situation we find ourselves in.” Its frankly unfair how well spoken he still is, even as he steadily pounds into your willing body without so much as a catch in his breath. “I’ll never again be satisfied unless I am on the verge of spilling into the tight heat of your body. How does that sound, d-dearest?”

Finally his voice cracks, his body stuttering against yours as he fights to maintain his control. “Please,” you whisper, “please, I’ll do anything- I need it.” He laughs against your neck and drags his tongue over your sweaty skin, the hard length of him inside of you more perfect than it has any right to be. He fucks into you with a reckless abandon that was surely going to get you caught, moans and whimpers tearing themselves from your mouth when he occasionally releases your lips to nip and suck at your skin. “I’ve wanted- for so long, please…”

“You could’ve had me,” he growls, “at any time. And instead you’ve come to this den of delinquency and allowed another to take you instead. But we’re fixing it now, darling-” His hips slam hard into you, the sound of his balls slapping your skin with every thrust the only thing you can hear under his moans, under yours, the cries that echo within the space between you.

A hand comes up to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer not for a kiss but to rest his forehead against yours. “Tell me,” he demands, and it feels like a plea with how wide and manic his eyes are, how desperately he bucks and grinds into you. “Tell me you’re mine. Promise you’ll never go to another again- that I am enough.”

“Yes,” you agree breathlessly, “yes, Alastor, please-”

“Say it,” he snarls, his sharp teeth snapping inches from your face, his smile possessed as he pounds into your cunt with a feverous need. “I need you to say it, darling, my doe, please-”

“Yours- oh fuck, please, always yours, Alastor- no one else, never again-” He cuts you off with his tongue licking into your mouth, like he means to steal your breath, to swallow you whole from the inside. He releases your head to rub skillfully at the sensitive bundle of nerves above where you’re connected, and your world goes white as you cum, a scream lost into his mouth as you shake in his embrace, internal walls clamping down with brutal force, the hard length of him inside of you more perfect than it has any right to be.He loses his rhythm against you, his pelvis stuttering with a couple more sharp thrusts before he stills, spending himself inside you with long, hot pulses that make you shiver in the aftermath of your own orgasm.

You stand there trembling against one another for a moment before Alastor assists you in standing on your own feet again, righting your skirt and getting rid of the stain on it with a snap of his fingers. He keeps his hands on you after he’s tucked himself away, over the curve of your waist, your arms, fiddling with your hands in the space between your bodies. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft and hurt.

“I must know, darling- what was I lacking?”

Your eyebrows scrunch. “What do you mean?”

“In my courting,” he clarifies, and cups your cheek in one hand. “I so wish you had come to me first if you had needs to be met- surely you must have a reason for why you didn’t do so?”

“Courting? What are you talking about?” 

He freezes, the static fading from the air around you in mere moments and Alastor searching your eyes. “I mean myself, of course,” he says, and while his voice is clear there’s a hint of surprise to it. “We’ve been courting for the better portion of a year.”

“We’ve what?” You think of the closeness you had shared for a while, the gifts and friendly touches and such that you had been interpreting as mere platonic affections. “Oh Satan,” you breath, as you realize you’ve been misunderstanding this whole time- he wanted you to touch him. He wanted to touch you- he was upset thinking that you had gone elsewhere when he would have been more than happy to-

Alastor’s hand leaves your skin and he takes a step back. “You… you accepted, dear,” he says imploringly. “My- my gestures, my affections. I thought-'' His eyes widen and his smile goes tense, his entire body following suit. “It would seem I owe you an apology, darling. I see that the situation at hand has come about of my own incorrect assumptions.” His shadows retreat, the shape of his form already less than corporeal when you let your hand dart out to wrap around his arm as he tries to slink away.

“No! Wait, please, I didn’t know-” He resolidifies before you, his expression still guarded as he looks down at you. “I promise- if I had known I would have never come out with Angel tonight. I thought- everyone told me you weren’t interested in sex or relationships, so even though I had those feelings I wasn’t going to make it your problem.”

“Hence your presence here tonight.” He sighs, the tension melting from his body as he comes closer again, reaches out for you and holds your face in his hand. “I was trying to be courteous in my courting of you; taking it slow so as not to startle you away. You truly didn’t realize with the time I spent with you, the small gifts and gestures?”

“I didn’t want to assume anything and make you make a run for it.”

Alastor shakes his head, a small, half annoyed half incredulous huff accompanying the movement. “It seems a bit of communication might have saved us both the wasted time. I admit I feel like a fool, for not simply being upfront regarding my intentions.”

You also felt like an idiot- instead of talking to him you had let the others scare you out of months of what could've been nights full of blissful pleasure rather than frustrated tossing and agonizing over your own feelings. Just before you could open your mouth to tell him how sorry you were for the mess you felt you caused, he was already speaking, his voice soft and yet rough around its edges. 

"Well, then let's not cry over spilled milk. Too many moments were wasted already, we won't waste one another with useless apologies, since I believe both of us have made our standpoints quite clear a few minutes ago, don't you agree, darling?"

As if to help you recount, he presses his forehead on yours, a slender arm wrapping around your waist, and you can't help but smile back at his grinning face. He doesn’t release you as he allows you both to drop into shadows, and you can’t wait to see what life will be like properly at Alastor’s side.

[strobelir]

If only you were mine~

(don't make deals with the cute drunk deer overlord, even if he acts all adorable!)

(・⁠ o・⁠)⁠┌⛓️

[fatally-alive]

The Libertines on best of british poll 2024

I am happy to say we did well....last year the only position the lads got was # 98. This year :

# 73 Can't stand me now.

# 58 Don't look back into the sun

# 35 Run Run Run

This only confirms that Run Run Run has the people's approval BUT I would ask you to request Shiver or Night of .. They are being overlooked and they are fantastic.

Next year let's have 4 songs in it ! When fans unite, things like this and more can happen.

[cryptidghostgirl]

hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)

and got an idea based off of it

what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)

A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.

Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1,971

Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.

When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.

As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.

Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.

Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.

Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.

Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.

Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.

Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.

"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.

He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.

"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."

The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.

"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"

Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.

"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."

"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"

Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.

"So, what's your name?"

The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.

"Y/n."

There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."

Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.

"Alastor?"

It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.

"It really is you... isn't it."

Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.

"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.

The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.

"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Y/n laughed tearfully.

"Me too."

"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"

"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."

"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"

Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Are you jealous?"

Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.

"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.

"Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."

"So tell me."

Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.

"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"

Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.

"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."

Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.

"You're married!?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"

"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.

"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."

"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.

Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.

"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."

Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.

"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."

"Oh hush you."

"Make me."

Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.

"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"

"With pleasure."

Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.

"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.

"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."

"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."

"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3

[krisdrawshazbinhotel]

If you're still taking art requests and you like this idea, maybe you could draw Vox taking care of a sick Alastor? 💖

Yes, I love the idea✨

I imagine Alastor as the type of person who claims to be fine and hides how much sick he is and is determined to decline any help from anyone :D

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kinktober Day 4: Sensory Deprivation

Summary: Charlie's trust exercises lead Lucifer and Y/N, Alastor's girlfriend, to pair up in a blindfolding game. Unluckily for Lucifer and luckily for Y/N, Alastor has some choice feelings about the matter. Warnings: Sensory Deprivation, Oral Sex, Reader has a Vagina, Heavy Sex, C*m, Implied P in V Sex, Jealous Fucking. MDNI, 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Kinktober Mention of the Day: @jurijyuu CHECK THEM OUT!!

Alastor stood in the grand lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, eyes filled with a growing disdain at the display in front of him. Y/N, his partner, was wandering around blindfolded, a bat in hand, swinging aimlessly at a pinata. That in and of itself was no issue, in fact, the scene would have made him chuckle if it had not been for one tiny issue. Lucifer’s deft hands guided his clueless partner, his filthy arms wrapped around her perfect form. Tainting was what rightfully his, what he had already claimed as his own. 

Y/N giggled nervously but didn’t hesitate to swing wildly at the air. Her laughter filled the room, the red blindfold tight around her face. “Okay, I can’t see anything!” she laughed.

“Exactly!” Lucifer replied, his tone playful. “Now, trust me okay? Swing…now!”

Lucifer took her hand, his fingers cool and reassuring, leading her away from the couch, as he directed her towards the paper figure. With a loud smack, the pinata burst open; spilling candy and sugary riches onto the carpet below. With a squeal, Y/N took off her blindfold and marveled at her success, bouncing up and down with glee. Noticing her boyfriend from across the foyer, she gave him a dazzling smile. Oh how that smile could send him to his knees in a second, renouncing all his power and title to see it on her face. She could ask for the world, the crown…his soul and he could hardly deny her. 

“Alastor!” Y/N exclaimed, laughing, waving him over. “Did you see me? Oh my gosh, Lucifer was so helpful; I don’t think I could have gotten it without him—“

“Yes, I saw. And what a marvelous display it was, my dear.” Pulling Y/N off to the side, away from the short king of Hell, he fiddled with the fabric of the blindfold that hung around her neck between two fingers. “And what, pray tell, was the purpose of this little…display?”

Smile wavering at sensing her boyfriends growing agitation, Y/N rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Well…it was one of Charlie’s trust exercises and you were recording, so I didn’t want to bother you. So, Lucifer offered to be my partner…”

“Mhmm, I see.” Alastor mumbled, glaring daggers at the afformentioned male. With a quick straightening of his posture and a snap of his fingers, both he and Y/N vanished out of sight; leaving Lucifer to heave a sigh of relief. 

As they appeared within the sanctity of room, Y/N was quickly pinned to the nearest wall with a force that shook the paintings that hung nearby. Alastor held her firmly by her shoulder, his eyes alight with a possesive flame as he brought his mouth to hover just over the shell of her ear.

"Tell me, what is it about that silly little game do you think makes it okay for Lucifer to be intertwined with you?” he demanded, his words laced with a bitterness.

"Alastor…love, it was simply one of Charlie’s exercises.”

“And yet you had not the inkling of an idea to come and ask me to particpate?” Alasto’s grip tightens around her shoulder with a bruising force. With a sigh and slightly bemused smile that annoyed Alastor to no end, Y/N brought her hand to carees her boyfriend’s cheek. 

"Alastor, you notoriously hate and won’t do Charlie’s activities.”

Alastor refused to be swayed by her words. With a fierce determination, he pulled Y/N flush to his chest and slipped the blindfold over her eyes; depriving her of her sight.  “Well allow me to attempt this little exercise, my dear," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N tenatively brought her hands up to find themselves settling at the nape of the Radio Demon’s neck. Nimble fingers traced up her waist, tugging softly on the hem of her pants before suddenly ripping them off of her body. Exposed, Y/N let out a gasp that was quickly replaced with a loud moan as Alastor traced a knuckle up her clothed core. 

“Trust me my dear….isn’t that what you are supposed to do?” Continuing to drag his finger across her pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of her neck. Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the messiness that coated her plush thights and painted her hole. She could feel his hot breath near her thighs but as to exact location, Y/N could only but guess. The mix of excitement and fear pulsed through her body, all of it adding to the growing arousal pooling within her. 

Diving in, his tongue lapped up all the juices that spilled from her needy pussy. Sucking softly, Y/N let out lewd moans and hisses of pleasure. Gripping the fabric of his jacket beneath her as her eyes blinded in ecstasy. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, Alastor inserted his finger into her while continuing to feast.

“That’s it darling. Let all of Hell and that insolent king know belong to me.”

Stretching her open, he added another finger; scissoring her wide.  Not even seconds later did her release hit her like a tidal wave and ropes of arousal soaked Alastor’s face and fingers. Panting wildly, only receiving vision once again when Alastor stood up and removed the blindfold from her face, did Y/N notice the wide smirk of satisfaction of her boyfriend’s face. 

“Why…why are you smiling like that?” 

“My dear…look around you.”

Peaking around the room, Y/N’s eyes widened in horror.

This was….Lucifer’s room.

Alastor leaned in close once more, eyes glowing a faint shade of green as the shadows danced and light flickered around the room. 

“Would you like to try the bed next my dear?”

[terry-perry]

Hey, I see you're looking for Alastor request to write him better.

Could I get Alastor x F! Reader where they're constantly flirting with each other until someone shouts just kiss already which takes Alastor off guard enough for the reader to sweep in and kiss him, then as he kisses back she gets dragged off to is room. The rest from there is up to you :)

Inspired by the writings of F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Do you think I ought to bob my hair, Alastor?" Y/N asked the distinguished demon by her side as they shared a few drinks at the hotel's bar. Husk busied himself by wiping some glasses, refraining from rolling his eyes as the pair continued with this back-and-forth.

"I'd look rather darling with such a hairstyle, don't you think?"

"An absolute dream, my dear," Alastor responded, regarding her more intently than usual.

He wasn't sure what it was, but something about her was especially vivacious that night. Perhaps it was the way she seemed to make a bit of effort to be on his level for the dinner-dance the hotel was hosting to celebrate its grand re-opening. Like with many of the antics that go on in the place, Alastor stood passively by, subtly scaring those who came close to him.

Then he spotted her.

He liked how becoming the dark red dress she wore was and how It set off her unnaturally shadowy eyes. Let's not forget about the way her hair glistened so! It was almost like the stars were woven into it.

"You know, back when I was alive, having such a hairstyle would be considered immoral, sinful," Alastor remarked, shamelessly reaching out to twirl a few strands of her hair around his sharp nails. "It was a sure and easy way to attract certain attention."

She took in the way his eyes floated towards hers, but not before making their way up slowly from her legs. Had he been anyone else, she would've disregarded his remark with a brutal slap (perhaps with something worse if she were in the mood). But this was the Radio Demon she was speaking with.

She knew she had him right where she wanted him the moment she stepped in. If her attire hadn't drawn him in, then it was definitely all the attention she gathered from the other party guests who would offer to dance with her. Each one that would head her way with enthusiastic determination would have Alastor's eye twitch before he finally decided it was his turn to cut in.

After that, she was his and no one else's. After all no one would dare be stupid enough to steal the Radio Demon's dance partner.

"Well, it's a good thing we're in Hell then," Y/N said, going as far as laying a hand on the normally touch-aversed Alastor's knee. In this case, however, a glow settled almost imperceptibly over him.

Their eyes met completely, and they stopped talking entirely as they stared at each other. It wasn't until an irritated voice intruded on their space and made the glow fade away.

"For fuck's sake, will you two just get it on already?!" Angel Dust screeched from the Y/N's other side. "This was amusing for a while, but you've been dancing around each other all night. The party ended hours ago, and you still haven't even kissed yet."

An awkward silence followed this. Alastor looked at Angel, eye twitching once more. He wouldn't understand that a classy lady like Y/N deserved to be wooed properly. She's, no doubt, heard every practiced line known in this side of the Pentagram. And she certainly wouldn't react well to such bold actions like hot kisses and heavy petting.

Alastor opened his mouth to explain as much when Y/N grabbed a hold of his face and placed a big kiss on his lips. He would've been more shocked had it not felt like such blissful oblivion. It was better than any glass of rye he had ever drank. He kept a stronghold of her, his claws piercing the small of her back while his other hand took hold of her hair.

They eventually released one another, going back to looking at each other.

"Forgive me," she managed to say between heavy breaths. She kept her bold smile on as well as a tight grip on his lapel. "You've got an awfully kissable mouth."

And with that, the glow returned along with a desire to finish this upstairs.

"About fucking time," Husk uttered, watching with Angel the way Alastor dragged a giddy Y/N to his room.