doggone-devil - Tumblr blog

[doggone-devil]

My Dear Readers, A Short Hiatus

So due to new job plus new position, I currently haven't had time to properly finish a chapter to post. However, I am set to publish the next chapter this Friday! I do appreciate your patience. Thank you!

How (Not) to Lose Your Soul: Chapter 2

Hello, dear readers! I'm back with Chapter 2! I apologize for how long this took. I ended up getting a job interview (spoiler alert, I got the job) so I didn't have as much spare time to write this as I wanted. But, here it is! I hope you all enjoy! It's a bit longer than I anticipated.. (over 3,000 words...woops). Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of unaliving oneself.

To the average sinner passing by, the haunting sounds from the tower above would sound like some rampaging monster. Growls, groans, and things crashing about sending any curious onlooker scurrying away in fear they'd be the ones that rage is unleashed upon. Yet to Charlie, her eyes casted up in worry and concern, knew what resides above the hotel lobby.

Sighing, she lays her head on her forearms, leaning onto the bar counter top. Vaggie lays a comforting hand on her back, but the soothing rubs do nothing to ease her troubled mind. "I just don't get it," she huffs. "I thought he'd be happy to be back in Hell after being topside so long! I mean, it's Al, right?" Charlie looks to Husk for confirmation, knowing the cat demon knows Alastor best. Husk only rolls his eyes, setting down the glass he had been cleaning.

"I've seen that man upset before but this? This is a whole temper tantrum. I don't know what happened up there but it's got his antlers in a bunch and I for one am staying clear of it," Husk states, turning his back to focus on the bottles lining the bar shelves. Charlie pouts and turns to her girlfriend, the ex-angel pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Maybe a deal went wrong? I mean, that's why he got summoned, right?" Vaggie asks. "Though why someone summoned him is beyond me."

"Maybe." Charlie hums in thought. "I don't think so, though. He looked so distraught when he came back. You should've seen him, Vaggie." Charlie recalls the way Alastor had looked when he finally returned to Hell. She had been shocked when Alastor was summoned, scared even as she watched his body practically disappear in front of her. She'd heard of mortals summoning demons before but never really witnessed it first hand until then. Most demons talked about how horrible it was, enslaved to a human's whim and only able to leave once the deal was completed. Knowing Alastor, she would've thought he'd return that same day, but as the day passed, then another, she knew something was wrong.

Tears well up in her eyes. Alastor had returned with an expression as if he had lost his life all over again, almost like he had died twice. There was pain in his eyes despite that permanent smile and she just wanted to hug him tightly, but before she could, he had sunk into his shadows. That's when the sounds started, up in his tower. Sounds of metal ripping, glass shattering, crashes and bangs. Charlie's brows draw tightly together, determination on her face as she stands, fists clenched.

"I'm going up there," she declares, walking away from the bar. Husk shakes his head, mumbling about how it's her funeral while Vaggie reaches out to her.

"Charlie, wait!" Her hand just misses Charlie's arm as the blonde demon continues up the stairs and towards the entrance to the radio tower. She was going to figure out just what was going on.

--

"It's not here." Rubble is kicked to the side, dust clouding upward from the sudden movement. "Another dead end." Two hours. You have been searching through this abandoned house for over two hours and absolutely nothing. You angrily scan around the room, eyes hoping but not finding the item you're looking for.

Veronica huffs loudly from the other side of the room, standing upright. "Maybe it got stolen?" she offers. You shake your head.

"Owners must've sold it or they still have it. Either way, it's not here." You turn and head for the front doors. "Waste of time," you mumble under your breath, exiting the large house and returning to your car. It was becoming the same end result. Promises of an item or book that would help you connect to Hell, and then nothing. Every location you've stopped at and searched proved to be useless. It was almost like you were one step behind every single time, something or someone dangling hope in front of  your eyes before yanking it away once you were close enough. It was starting to wear you down, starting to make you angry.

"Maybe we'll have better luck at the next place," Veronica suggests as she steps outside behind you. She pulls out the list, checking for the next location, but you're already walking to your car. She calls out your name in question but you can feel it, deep down. Despair.

"It's no use," you whisper. Tears are forming, hot and angry. "I'm never going to see him again." Veronica, now at your side, places her hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, come on now. You did it once before, we can do it again. We just have to -"

"Have to what?" you bark out at her. "Without his book, I can't summon him. Without any book, I can't summon any demon at all! There's no way I can get to him, not with these fucking angels intercepting at every chance they find." You kick the tire of your car, shouting in frustration. Veronica stands silently as you continue to repeatedly abuse the tire. You turn to her, "Is it so wrong to want to love him? To want to be happy?" Your voice breaks, the tears heavier now as your begin to sob. Your curse under your breath, wiping them away as you hide your face behind  your sleeve.

Veronica steps towards you, pulling you in her arms. Your head comes to rest on her shoulder where you bury it against her, letting the emotions you've bottled pour out. She strokes your head and lets you cry. "It's going to be ok, girlie. I mean, you already know where he's at and he can't leave there. Even if we can't find anything now, once you've lived your life and passed away, you can just go to Hell and -"

"Wait," you pull away, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Repeat that again."

"He can't leave Hell?" she asks.

"No, no. The last part."

"Once you've lived your life, you can just go to -"

"That's it!" you cut her off again, a small laugh bubbling up. Why didn't you think of it before? The answer had been in front of you this entire time.

"What's it?" Veronica narrows her eyes at you, unsure. You smile wide, grabbing her shoulders.

"I just have to go to Hell!" You giggle and run to the driver's side of your car, grabbing your phone from the mount where you had left it. Veronica remains in place, confused as she watches you.

"Um, girlie, there's just one problem? You're alive?" You practically skip back over to her, thumb swiping the screen as your search through google results.

"Exactly!" you exclaim, turning the phone around to show her. "But what if I wasn't?" Her eyes widen as she looks at the list of nearby satanic cults.

"Oh no. No, no, no!" She begins to look horrified, taking your phone from your hand. "Are you insane?!" You raise a brow at her, your turn to be confused. "Girlie, you're straight up crazy! I'm not letting you do this."

"What do you mean?" you snatch your phone back.

"Wha - What do I mean? You're not about to go and kill yourself as some fucking offering to Satan!" she shouts at you.

"I'm not offering myself to Satan," you reply, rolling your eyes. "That's ridiculous." She sighs in relief. "I'm offering myself to Alastor." You walk to your car as she throws her hands up in the air.

"That's not any better!" She watches as you climb in, the car roaring to life. She calls out your name again. You roll down the passenger side window, leaning over to look at her.

"You coming or not?" You expect her to sigh and climb in, to tell you that this is a crazy idea as she comes along, but she doesn't move.

"You're actually doing this?" she asks, arms crossed over her chest. You pause, thinking. It was a bit of a long shot, having some cult kill you in the name of your demon lover just so you could go to Hell, but at the same time… You've decided. He was more important to you than your life.

"Yes, I am," you answer firmly. Veronica's arms drop.

"Then I'm not coming."

"Veronica?"

"I'm not going to watch my best friend quite literally throw her life away," Veronica states, tears falling down her cheeks. For a moment, you genuinely feel bad, like maybe you're not making the right decision. Even she had said you could just live the rest of your life and then die, but there's no guarantee you'll actually go to Hell after. Sure, you could just sin like crazy, but you're not even sure which sins are legit enough to secure damnation and you're not about to commit murder. No, this was the only way you could see working.

You leave the car running as you step back out, walking over to Veronica. For a second, she looks relieved, like you changed your mind. You hug her tightly. "This is goodbye, then," you say to her. She doesn't hug you back and you don't chance looking at her as you climb back into your car. She has her phone, she has money, she can make it back home without you. Still, you forward the list of cults to her so she can retrieve your car and things after the deed is done.

Glancing one last time towards her, you steady your nerves and reverse out of the driveway. As you drive away, you start to feel your nerves calm down, a sense of happiness washing over you. You begin to smile, your lips stretched wide. In exactly one hour and forty minutes, you'll arrive at your destination. In exactly one hour and forty minutes, you'll finally have the chance to be reunited with him, forever. You just hope this cult is as legit as the reviews say they are.

--

Pink. It's fucking pink.

You stare at the building google maps led you to, the street lined with townhouses on other side. You're parked in front of the only one that has a pentagram above it's door, it's very bright, yellow door. You frown. The whole house is colorful from it's shingles to it's windows. None of it screams satanic to you as you walk up the steps to the porch. Even the outdoor chair is some pastel color and is that duck print? You squint, looking at the pillows on it. Yep, those are ducks.

"What the fuck," you sigh, approaching the front door. You recheck google one last time, just to make sure you're in the right place. The red pin on the map says you are so you pocket your phone, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. A high pitch voice responds from the other side as footsteps approach, fast, almost as if they're running to answer. The door flings open and you're immediately pulled into a hug.

"Hello! Blessings to you! I'm so happy to meet you, sister!" the young woman greets you. You tense up immediately.

"Uh, hi?" She lets you go.

"I am Sister Beth." She looks up at your with a big smile. She's slightly shorter than you, blonde hair braided into a thick fishtail with little petals and leaves tangled throughout it. Her clothes are bright, reminding you of hippies from the sixties. Definitely not what you were expecting.

"This is the House of Lucifer, right?" You look around. "Did I get the wrong house?" Beth giggles again, grabbing your hand.

"Of course not, silly! You're in the right place." She tugs you inside, bringing you through a foyer and into an equally colorful living room. What you thought would be black candles, skulls, and cobwebs turned out to be lava lamps, beads, and bean bag chairs. She plops you down into one, taking seat opposite you with her legs crossed. You sit for a second, trying to take everything in. Was it possible to get whiplash from this? You sure felt like.

"So what brings you here, sister?" she asks, leaning forward. You sink into the chair, partially to lean away from her and partially because you're sinking.

"Uh, well, I was hoping to use your services." You didn't actually plan this through, now that you think about it. What were you suppose to tell her? You've come to be used as an offering to some random demon? Might as well tell her you're the Pope.

"Oh we have all kinds of services! Which ones? I could do a blessing ritual, read your fortune, contact lost loved ones - oh there's so many!" Her bright demeanor was starting to give you a headache.

"None of those," you say. "The one I have in mind is less…" You trail off, unsure what to say. Friendly? Cheerful? Legal? "Known." Beth tilts her head in confusion, almost like a dog, before her eyes widen.

"You mean our secret services?" she whispers. You nod. She looks around, then stands, grabbing  your hand again. "Only Mamma Edith can do those." You gulp, not liking the way she said that.

"Mamma Edith?"

Beth shakes her head. "Mamma Edith is the one who started this house! She takes care of all of us and provides to us the word of Lucifer!" Oh no. The one cult you chose to visit and you got the one that was a legit cult. Why couldn't you have chosen the one where they wore black robes and turned out to be thirty year old men still living in their mom's basement?

"So she can help me?" you ask.

"Most definitely!" Beth leads you down a hallway and you can't help but notice all the duck décor. Figurines, paintings, even the fucking wallpaper was ducks. God, what was with the duck obsession? This was suppose to be a satanic cult, right? Where was the blood, the eerie ambience of tortured screams? Had all the horror movies lied to you?

Beth suddenly stops and your attention comes to a giant, ominous, black door. Ok, that was more like it.

"Mamma Edith is just through here, but I can't go in," she states, pushing you towards it.

"Wait, if you can't, how come I can?"

"Cause she's waiting for you!"

"What? How could she be -" You don't have time to question her as the door slowly creaks upon. Beth turns and runs back down the hall, leaving you to stand alone as the door opens, revealing a black abyss inside. You start to miss the colorful interior of the living room. "Um, hello?"

"Enter." You shudder at the voice that answers, stern and powerful. You don't get the chance to respond as your feet take you inside, almost as if compelled to. The door slams shut behind you, submerging you in the darkness. You gulp.

"Um, I'm here to -"

"I know why you're here." You try to look around, but nothing is visible. "You seek to commune with the Other World, to contact those of which you can not begin to fathom." In any other scenario, you'd roll your eyes at the dramatics, but right now, it's working. You're scared.

"Y-Yes?" It comes out as more of a question than an answer. You jump as lights begin to flicker on. Little by little, the space around you becomes clear and all you can see is … "Ducks." There's so many ducks. The whole room is like a shrine to them, every inch covered in nothing but the color yellow and ducks.

"Welcome, child," a woman greets you and you turn to face her. She's sitting at a round table, auburn hair pulled into a bun. She's older, much older, but her eyes are youthful as they take you in. "I am Mother Edith, but you can call me Mamma." Yeah, not happening.

"Hi." You wave your hand, unsure what else to do. She motions for you to join her and you sit at the table.

"Lucifer has told me of your arrival," she says.

"He has?"

"Yes." She pulls out a black mirror, placing it down flat on the table. Her hands hover above it. "He has told me about you, how a girl would arrive asking to be a ritual sacrifice." Damn, news traveled fast. Did that mean he was watching you? How did he know about you? So many questions swirled through your thoughts, making you dizzy.

"Then, if you know why I'm here, will you help me?" you ask. You start to explain your story but she silences you.

"Lucifer has already given us his answer. He says," she pauses, hands waving over the mirror. You wait with bated breath. "Fat chance." Huh?

"Huh?"

"Ain't gonna happen." Edith drops her hands, leaning back in her chair. You blink.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're shit out of luck. Lucifer denies you, won't accept you. Not for him, not for any demon," she explains. Your fists clenched. What the fuck?

"What the fuck? What do you mean he won't accept me? It's not even him I'm sacrificing myself for!" You stand from your chair. This was bullshit.

"No," Edith replies, her demeanor calm, "but he is the one who oversees any and all activities related to Hell. Nothing we do here happens unless he allows it. That includes sacrifices."

"Then I'll just find someone else."

"They won't do it, either."

"What?"

"Any and all persons who follow under him have now been told to deny you."

"So what? I'm like, banned from Hell now?" Edith nods. "Oh, fuck you." You don't hold back as the anger builds. "Fuck you and your stupid little rules. You know what? Fuck him, too!"

"Watch your tongue, child," Edith warns, but you're on a roll now. On a mission.

"Isn't he suppose to be some powerful fucking being, evil beyond human comprehension? I'd be just another soul for his collection anyways, right? Another mortal claimed by Hell to rub into God's face?" She doesn't reply and you continue. "Sounds more like a pussy to me. Probably can't even fucking do half the shit the bible says he can." You look around, needing to throw something. To break something. You spot one of the ducks.

"Don't -" Edith tries to stop you, but you've already done it. The figurine hits the floor, shattering. You huff, feeling slightly better. You turn to give Edith more of your anger, pausing when you see her body go slack. A chill runs up your spine, the air turning cold. The lights flicker. Shit.

"You come into my house, uninvited," Edith starts, but it's not her voice. This voice is deeper, darker as she stands from her chair. "You badmouth me in my own home and then have the nerve to BREAK MY THINGS?" You flinch and squat down as the voice shouts loudly, a flash of bright light blinding you for a second. You peek open an eye. Standing where Edith just was is a man, red eyes narrowed towards you. His skin is pale white, blonde hair tucked back under a hat. Large, red horns protrude from his forehead, fire crackling between them. Your eyes go wide as you realized who it is standing before you.

Lucifer.

taglist - @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf, @youroneandonlysimp, @alastorstandard, @florelll, @nyxnightshade7656, @rinitachan, @saccharine-nectarine, @nyxnightshade7656

Masterlist ... Ao3

[doggone-devil]

K I love your Alastor series, but if Lucifer doesn't give him a message that we're alive AT THE VERY LEAST I will send him to Heaven Idc that he could wipe the floor with me, I will punt him like a football <3

Thank you, my Dear Reader <3 I'm glad you're enjoying it. Also, punting Luci, you could easily get a field goal with him XD

[doggone-devil]

Adam, the very first idiot

[doggone-devil]

By the Cover: Chapter 1

Behold! A secondary novel for me to write while I work on my other one XD No, but this idea has a chokehold on me so of course I had to write it. Pairing: Alastor x afab!Reader Warnings: none for this chapter~ Word Count: 2,517

"I waited for you my entire life and you were worth every minute." - Mark Anthony

Two lovers, hand in hand, facing the odds of the world around them. A poetic tale of how love triumphs over everything, not even the Universe itself able to keep them together. A romance little girls dream of as they watch their idols on screen, fantasizing about the day they'll be swept off their feet into a happily ever after. Such a beautiful hope, a goal they could one day accomplish, unlike you.

Wrapped in a well-worn blanket, you sit on your couch with your nose buried in the latest episode of your favorite show. The second you received the notification of its release, your were scrambling to go to the streaming site, the show queued in your favorites, ready to play. Giddy with excitement, you began to watch, engrossed in the plot as it furthered, the various characters building the hype of the upcoming climax. As much as  you loved seeing them, your eyes waited patiently to recognize one character in particular.

There.

An audible gasp escapes you before a high pitch shriek, your toes wiggling to try and exert some of the built up energy you felt just from seeing them appear. Red hair dipped in black, fluffy ears, and captivating red eyes. You swoon when they speak, voice filtered to sound like those old 1920s radio broadcast. Some fans find the voice annoying but you swore it was an angel speaking, your body shivering in response to their words. They were the love of your life, your hyperfixation, your absolute obsession.

Alastor was the their name, a very powerful Overlord and one of the main characters of your favorite animated show, Hazbin Hotel. It had appeared and swept many into it's fandom, becoming favored next to the other show released by the same creator, Helluva Boss. Granted, you still loved that show and watched it when the episodes came out, but this one - you squeal - this one had you in an iron grip and all because of the radio demon so graciously displayed on screen.

Granted, you realized your quick fascination with the character was a bit problematic. Firstly, he was manipulative, scheming, and in it for only for him. He didn't care, really, about the other characters, even having a near breakdown when almost dying for them. You were certain if he existed in real life, he wouldn't be as lovely as you dreamt him to be, but that didn't stop your heart from skipping when you saw him. It also didn't stop  you from spending your hard earn money on countless fan merch, his face decorating every pillow, blanket, and object you owned. Even the phone in your hand had his face on it, smiling at you with hooded lids. Yes, you had a problem but you weren't stopping any time soon.

"Another perfect episode," you sigh, letting your hands drop to your lap as you lean back into your couch. The credits roll and you happily stare up at your ceiling, thoughts already plagued by him. He was so cool this time, not that he wasn't all the time, but this time he had been so sassy. You were already thinking of ways to write about it, ready to tell others in the fandom how baby girl coded he was. You giggle, tossing your blanket off your legs. You stretch with a groan, looking back at your phone to note the time. Your stomach grumbles.

You hum as you walk to your kitchen, looking in the fridge for something to eat. You weigh your options of a ketchup sandwich or mayo sandwich. Tough decisions, both sounding very appeasing, but you opt for the third option. You grab your keys and hoodie, tugging it over your head as you slip on your flip flops. You may only have sixteen dollars left after purchasing that one Alastor keychain, but it was totally worth it. Besides, you only needed eight of it to buy an everything bagel and coffee.

Basking in the sunlight for a second once you step outside, you head down the sidewalk from your duplex home, steering clear of other pedestrians as they mosey about. It's clear out, the cold air leftover from winter barely noticeable with no wind, the sun warm as it hangs high in the sky. A very nice day to enjoy as you walk, wondering what it'd be like to take Alastor to a small café. You tilt your head down to keep others from seeing your goofy smile, unable to hide the joy you feel of imagining Alastor critique the food.

He would probably comment on the way it's processed, stating how homecooked meals were the way to go. Oh, how you'd give anything to taste a meal cooked by Alastor. From what you knew of his backstory, he loved to cook and enjoyed a good jambalaya. You weren't raised southern, nowhere close as you recall your hometown in Michigan. You grew up with cabbages and kolackies, a drastic difference from shrimp and gumbo. Granted, you have tasted the Cajun dishes, curious to know what they tasted like when you discovered Alastor's birthplace, but you wanted them cooked by a real southern man. No, you wanted them cooked by Alastor, otherwise they just couldn't be as good. Shame.

You're greeted by a barista as you walk into your favorite café, breathing in the air deeply, enjoying the favorable scents that assault you. It's just a small business a block away from your house, easy and fast to get to. It had the best bagels you've ever tasted and the coffee wasn't half bad, either. You step in line, eagerly waiting behind three other customers while you roam the menu above. You already know what you'll order but it doesn't hurt to see what's new, checking their daily specials. Today seems to be an in house blueberry muffin, complimented with a drink of the customer's choice. It's appealing, but you're not that big a fan of blueberries. Or muffins.

"Excuse me." You hear the voice before feeling the shove, a person squeezing in the line to get through. You step back to avoid them, yet your foot gets caught on the other. You begin to fall backwards until a firm body stops you. You turn to apologize as you regain your footing, but your words get caught in your throat. You see a man standing behind you, his hands fixing his bowtie, but that's not what makes you speechless. He's tall, very tall, with bright red hair and tan skin. As he looks down at you, your breath hitches. His eyes are almost as red as his hair and you wonder if they're contacts. They have to be, you think to yourself, no one's eyes are red. It's not a natural color but they look natural. You must be staring too long cause he clears his throat.

"Sorry!" you blurt out, quickly turning to face forward, realizing a gap between you and the customer ahead of you. You scamper to move up, nearly tripping over your feet, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. You try not to think about the man behind you or his stupidly good looks. Seriously, how chiseled does one jaw have to be? You could cut marble with it. You focus on anything but him, staring at your feet until the barista is asking for your order.

Bagel and coffee secured, you walk to your usual spot in the corner of the café, a window table with two seats. It's comfortable and spaced far enough away from the other tables to let you enjoy your food in peace. You shrug out of your hoodie as you sit, hanging it on the back of the chair. You take a bite of your bagel, moaning softly at the seasonings popping off on your tongue. It's simple and yet, to you, so delicious. Pulling out your phone, you go to scroll through some apps, but your attention is caught by a red coat passing by. You glance up and nearly choke on the bite you swallow. The man from before settles at a table close to yours, only a coffee in hand when he sets it down. He also pulls out his phone, paying no mind to anything around him. Unlike you, your eyes glued to him. You swear he seems familiar despite never seeing him before.

He's wearing nearly all red, minus his black pants. His coat is a deep red, matching his hair. The undershirt is white, however, and you notice black gloves on his hands. Huh, you chuckle to yourself. He almost looks like Alastor, the clothes very similar and even his build - You blink. 

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god, you think, eyes wider than the plate your bagel sits on. You quickly look away, your hand slapped over your mouth at the realization. You just compared a real person to a fictional character. 

You take another glance, trying to study him more. He's tall like Alastor, slender for sure, but you can't really tell with the coat on. He's style is like that out of the 1920s, just like Alastor. A tailcoat, collared undershirt, bowtie, and even dress pants completed with dress shoes. Just slap a monocle on him and he could be Alastor what with the slanted, bob haircut had had. God, if you had your cosplay Alastor ears and antlers, you'd ask him to wear them and call you darling.

No, wait, what's wrong with you? Ugh, you're so creepy and you need to stop staring so much and - oh my god, now he's staring back. Idiot!

You take interest in your bagel again, taking a rather large bite as you struggle to chew. You begin to cough as the pieces roughly slide down your throat, eyes watering as you reach for your coffee. You're gulping it down to help the food along, gasping for air. You hear a snorted chuckle and look up, seeing the man cover his mouth with the back of his hand, avoiding your look. You can see the smile and blush, realizing he watched all of that. Could this get any worse?

You sigh, wanting to bang your head on the table. Instead, you reach for your phone, knowing tumblr will distract you. Only, the Universe decided today was the day to pick on you and as you reach for said phone, your arm bumps your coffee. It spills. All over your table. All over you. You want to cry.

"Here." You see the man walk over to you, extending his hand to offer a handkerchief. You take it, sniffling with a pout.

"Thank you," you mumble, wiping at your now ruined top. It was white ten seconds ago, now stained brown. As you wipe, the liquid spreads. You sigh in defeat, knowing you'll have to throw it away when you get home. Thank god you have your hoodie.

"Here, let me," the man says, taking the handkerchief gently from your hands. You let him, too embarrassed and sad about your shirt. He smiles as he dabs at your shirt. "Wiping only helps the coffee to set. You have to dab for the best results." You watch him, slightly annoyed at the way he fusses over it like a dad would, but you're not angry. In fact, you feel kind of in awe as he moves, your eyes glued to his face. His nose is pointed and sharp, eyes angled like a cat. His lashes are long, complimenting those strange red eyes. You try to see if they are, in fact, contacts, but as you lean to get a closer look, they snap up to meet you. You jump back, knocking into the table. Your coffee cup sways but before it can spill again, he reaches out to steady it. You sigh in relief.

"Sorry," you apologize.

"You have a clumsy habit, don't you?" he hums, chuckling when you pout again.

"Not usually," you state, turning to grab your hoodie when he steps back. You can't help but feel so small when he straightens up to full height again.

"Really? I couldn't tell." It's a banter, but you're failing to think of how to respond. You're not use to actively conversing with people in the real world, most of your conversations being with friends online or AI chatbots. Ok, maybe you didn't need to think about the last one, but the fact still stands that you don't know how to talk to people. Especially people as attractive as he is.

"Well," you grab your bagel and what's left of your coffee, "as fun as was to bother you and embarrass myself, I have to go." You need to escape, more like it. Your social battery is already beeping in alarm, drained from the back to back events that was your attempted outing for lunch. You throw your trash away as you leave, not taking the chance to look back at the man.

As you walk back home, you can't help but think of how the scenario could've played out different. If you were a normal person, you could've held a conversation with the man, maybe even inviting him for coffee tomorrow. You could flirt and date until, one day, he would ask your hand in marriage. Then you would have kids, grow old together, and live a life well filled. At least, that's the person your mother wanted to be. A normal woman with a normal love life, finding a man to support you and give her grandkids. Sadly, that was never going to happen, you think as you step into your house. If the seven foot cardboard cutout of Alastor greeting you at your front door wasn't enough to deter potential mates away, then surely the numerous framed Alastor posters scattered across your walls would.

Maybe you should cancel that order for the Alastor cursed cat plushie…

Nah.

You toss your keys down and kick off flip fops, pulling your hoodie off to grimace at the disaster that is your white-turned-brown tee. Yeah, there's no getting this stain out and you weren't about to buy some fifteen dollar produce that claims to erase the stain. You shrug it off, opening your kitchen bin and tossing it away. It doesn't bother you too much, thankful it's not one of your Alastor shirts. Speaking of, you walk to your bedroom, going straight to your dresser. You rummage through your shirts before picking one and putting it on. This was one is black, Alastor's face printed on the front with the words 'Smile Like You Mean It' placed around him. It's one of your favorites.

Shuffling back to your living room, you decide to ease your stress with the one thing you know will put a smile on your face. Sitting on your couch, tucking your legs as you bring your blanket back over your body, you quickly open your phone to its browser. Archive of Our Own loads up and you quickly begin filtering through the latest additions to Alastor fanfictions.

Masterlist ... Ao3

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Lose Your Soul: Chapter 2

Hello, dear readers! I'm back with Chapter 2! I apologize for how long this took. I ended up getting a job interview (spoiler alert, I got the job) so I didn't have as much spare time to write this as I wanted. But, here it is! I hope you all enjoy! It's a bit longer than I anticipated.. (over 3,000 words...woops). Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of unaliving oneself.

To the average sinner passing by, the haunting sounds from the tower above would sound like some rampaging monster. Growls, groans, and things crashing about sending any curious onlooker scurrying away in fear they'd be the ones that rage is unleashed upon. Yet to Charlie, her eyes casted up in worry and concern, knew what resides above the hotel lobby.

Sighing, she lays her head on her forearms, leaning onto the bar counter top. Vaggie lays a comforting hand on her back, but the soothing rubs do nothing to ease her troubled mind. "I just don't get it," she huffs. "I thought he'd be happy to be back in Hell after being topside so long! I mean, it's Al, right?" Charlie looks to Husk for confirmation, knowing the cat demon knows Alastor best. Husk only rolls his eyes, setting down the glass he had been cleaning.

"I've seen that man upset before but this? This is a whole temper tantrum. I don't know what happened up there but it's got his antlers in a bunch and I for one am staying clear of it," Husk states, turning his back to focus on the bottles lining the bar shelves. Charlie pouts and turns to her girlfriend, the ex-angel pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Maybe a deal went wrong? I mean, that's why he got summoned, right?" Vaggie asks. "Though why someone summoned him is beyond me."

"Maybe." Charlie hums in thought. "I don't think so, though. He looked so distraught when he came back. You should've seen him, Vaggie." Charlie recalls the way Alastor had looked when he finally returned to Hell. She had been shocked when Alastor was summoned, scared even as she watched his body practically disappear in front of her. She'd heard of mortals summoning demons before but never really witnessed it first hand until then. Most demons talked about how horrible it was, enslaved to a human's whim and only able to leave once the deal was completed. Knowing Alastor, she would've thought he'd return that same day, but as the day passed, then another, she knew something was wrong.

Tears well up in her eyes. Alastor had returned with an expression as if he had lost his life all over again, almost like he had died twice. There was pain in his eyes despite that permanent smile and she just wanted to hug him tightly, but before she could, he had sunk into his shadows. That's when the sounds started, up in his tower. Sounds of metal ripping, glass shattering, crashes and bangs. Charlie's brows draw tightly together, determination on her face as she stands, fists clenched.

"I'm going up there," she declares, walking away from the bar. Husk shakes his head, mumbling about how it's her funeral while Vaggie reaches out to her.

"Charlie, wait!" Her hand just misses Charlie's arm as the blonde demon continues up the stairs and towards the entrance to the radio tower. She was going to figure out just what was going on.

--

"It's not here." Rubble is kicked to the side, dust clouding upward from the sudden movement. "Another dead end." Two hours. You have been searching through this abandoned house for over two hours and absolutely nothing. You angrily scan around the room, eyes hoping but not finding the item you're looking for.

Veronica huffs loudly from the other side of the room, standing upright. "Maybe it got stolen?" she offers. You shake your head.

"Owners must've sold it or they still have it. Either way, it's not here." You turn and head for the front doors. "Waste of time," you mumble under your breath, exiting the large house and returning to your car. It was becoming the same end result. Promises of an item or book that would help you connect to Hell, and then nothing. Every location you've stopped at and searched proved to be useless. It was almost like you were one step behind every single time, something or someone dangling hope in front of  your eyes before yanking it away once you were close enough. It was starting to wear you down, starting to make you angry.

"Maybe we'll have better luck at the next place," Veronica suggests as she steps outside behind you. She pulls out the list, checking for the next location, but you're already walking to your car. She calls out your name in question but you can feel it, deep down. Despair.

"It's no use," you whisper. Tears are forming, hot and angry. "I'm never going to see him again." Veronica, now at your side, places her hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, come on now. You did it once before, we can do it again. We just have to -"

"Have to what?" you bark out at her. "Without his book, I can't summon him. Without any book, I can't summon any demon at all! There's no way I can get to him, not with these fucking angels intercepting at every chance they find." You kick the tire of your car, shouting in frustration. Veronica stands silently as you continue to repeatedly abuse the tire. You turn to her, "Is it so wrong to want to love him? To want to be happy?" Your voice breaks, the tears heavier now as your begin to sob. Your curse under your breath, wiping them away as you hide your face behind  your sleeve.

Veronica steps towards you, pulling you in her arms. Your head comes to rest on her shoulder where you bury it against her, letting the emotions you've bottled pour out. She strokes your head and lets you cry. "It's going to be ok, girlie. I mean, you already know where he's at and he can't leave there. Even if we can't find anything now, once you've lived your life and passed away, you can just go to Hell and -"

"Wait," you pull away, eyes wide.

"What?"

"Repeat that again."

"He can't leave Hell?" she asks.

"No, no. The last part."

"Once you've lived your life, you can just go to -"

"That's it!" you cut her off again, a small laugh bubbling up. Why didn't you think of it before? The answer had been in front of you this entire time.

"What's it?" Veronica narrows her eyes at you, unsure. You smile wide, grabbing her shoulders.

"I just have to go to Hell!" You giggle and run to the driver's side of your car, grabbing your phone from the mount where you had left it. Veronica remains in place, confused as she watches you.

"Um, girlie, there's just one problem? You're alive?" You practically skip back over to her, thumb swiping the screen as your search through google results.

"Exactly!" you exclaim, turning the phone around to show her. "But what if I wasn't?" Her eyes widen as she looks at the list of nearby satanic cults.

"Oh no. No, no, no!" She begins to look horrified, taking your phone from your hand. "Are you insane?!" You raise a brow at her, your turn to be confused. "Girlie, you're straight up crazy! I'm not letting you do this."

"What do you mean?" you snatch your phone back.

"Wha - What do I mean? You're not about to go and kill yourself as some fucking offering to Satan!" she shouts at you.

"I'm not offering myself to Satan," you reply, rolling your eyes. "That's ridiculous." She sighs in relief. "I'm offering myself to Alastor." You walk to your car as she throws her hands up in the air.

"That's not any better!" She watches as you climb in, the car roaring to life. She calls out your name again. You roll down the passenger side window, leaning over to look at her.

"You coming or not?" You expect her to sigh and climb in, to tell you that this is a crazy idea as she comes along, but she doesn't move.

"You're actually doing this?" she asks, arms crossed over her chest. You pause, thinking. It was a bit of a long shot, having some cult kill you in the name of your demon lover just so you could go to Hell, but at the same time… You've decided. He was more important to you than your life.

"Yes, I am," you answer firmly. Veronica's arms drop.

"Then I'm not coming."

"Veronica?"

"I'm not going to watch my best friend quite literally throw her life away," Veronica states, tears falling down her cheeks. For a moment, you genuinely feel bad, like maybe you're not making the right decision. Even she had said you could just live the rest of your life and then die, but there's no guarantee you'll actually go to Hell after. Sure, you could just sin like crazy, but you're not even sure which sins are legit enough to secure damnation and you're not about to commit murder. No, this was the only way you could see working.

You leave the car running as you step back out, walking over to Veronica. For a second, she looks relieved, like you changed your mind. You hug her tightly. "This is goodbye, then," you say to her. She doesn't hug you back and you don't chance looking at her as you climb back into your car. She has her phone, she has money, she can make it back home without you. Still, you forward the list of cults to her so she can retrieve your car and things after the deed is done.

Glancing one last time towards her, you steady your nerves and reverse out of the driveway. As you drive away, you start to feel your nerves calm down, a sense of happiness washing over you. You begin to smile, your lips stretched wide. In exactly one hour and forty minutes, you'll arrive at your destination. In exactly one hour and forty minutes, you'll finally have the chance to be reunited with him, forever. You just hope this cult is as legit as the reviews say they are.

--

Pink. It's fucking pink.

You stare at the building google maps led you to, the street lined with townhouses on other side. You're parked in front of the only one that has a pentagram above it's door, it's very bright, yellow door. You frown. The whole house is colorful from it's shingles to it's windows. None of it screams satanic to you as you walk up the steps to the porch. Even the outdoor chair is some pastel color and is that duck print? You squint, looking at the pillows on it. Yep, those are ducks.

"What the fuck," you sigh, approaching the front door. You recheck google one last time, just to make sure you're in the right place. The red pin on the map says you are so you pocket your phone, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. A high pitch voice responds from the other side as footsteps approach, fast, almost as if they're running to answer. The door flings open and you're immediately pulled into a hug.

"Hello! Blessings to you! I'm so happy to meet you, sister!" the young woman greets you. You tense up immediately.

"Uh, hi?" She lets you go.

"I am Sister Beth." She looks up at your with a big smile. She's slightly shorter than you, blonde hair braided into a thick fishtail with little petals and leaves tangled throughout it. Her clothes are bright, reminding you of hippies from the sixties. Definitely not what you were expecting.

"This is the House of Lucifer, right?" You look around. "Did I get the wrong house?" Beth giggles again, grabbing your hand.

"Of course not, silly! You're in the right place." She tugs you inside, bringing you through a foyer and into an equally colorful living room. What you thought would be black candles, skulls, and cobwebs turned out to be lava lamps, beads, and bean bag chairs. She plops you down into one, taking seat opposite you with her legs crossed. You sit for a second, trying to take everything in. Was it possible to get whiplash from this? You sure felt like.

"So what brings you here, sister?" she asks, leaning forward. You sink into the chair, partially to lean away from her and partially because you're sinking.

"Uh, well, I was hoping to use your services." You didn't actually plan this through, now that you think about it. What were you suppose to tell her? You've come to be used as an offering to some random demon? Might as well tell her you're the Pope.

"Oh we have all kinds of services! Which ones? I could do a blessing ritual, read your fortune, contact lost loved ones - oh there's so many!" Her bright demeanor was starting to give you a headache.

"None of those," you say. "The one I have in mind is less…" You trail off, unsure what to say. Friendly? Cheerful? Legal? "Known." Beth tilts her head in confusion, almost like a dog, before her eyes widen.

"You mean our secret services?" she whispers. You nod. She looks around, then stands, grabbing  your hand again. "Only Mamma Edith can do those." You gulp, not liking the way she said that.

"Mamma Edith?"

Beth shakes her head. "Mamma Edith is the one who started this house! She takes care of all of us and provides to us the word of Lucifer!" Oh no. The one cult you chose to visit and you got the one that was a legit cult. Why couldn't you have chosen the one where they wore black robes and turned out to be thirty year old men still living in their mom's basement?

"So she can help me?" you ask.

"Most definitely!" Beth leads you down a hallway and you can't help but notice all the duck décor. Figurines, paintings, even the fucking wallpaper was ducks. God, what was with the duck obsession? This was suppose to be a satanic cult, right? Where was the blood, the eerie ambience of tortured screams? Had all the horror movies lied to you?

Beth suddenly stops and your attention comes to a giant, ominous, black door. Ok, that was more like it.

"Mamma Edith is just through here, but I can't go in," she states, pushing you towards it.

"Wait, if you can't, how come I can?"

"Cause she's waiting for you!"

"What? How could she be -" You don't have time to question her as the door slowly creaks upon. Beth turns and runs back down the hall, leaving you to stand alone as the door opens, revealing a black abyss inside. You start to miss the colorful interior of the living room. "Um, hello?"

"Enter." You shudder at the voice that answers, stern and powerful. You don't get the chance to respond as your feet take you inside, almost as if compelled to. The door slams shut behind you, submerging you in the darkness. You gulp.

"Um, I'm here to -"

"I know why you're here." You try to look around, but nothing is visible. "You seek to commune with the Other World, to contact those of which you can not begin to fathom." In any other scenario, you'd roll your eyes at the dramatics, but right now, it's working. You're scared.

"Y-Yes?" It comes out as more of a question than an answer. You jump as lights begin to flicker on. Little by little, the space around you becomes clear and all you can see is … "Ducks." There's so many ducks. The whole room is like a shrine to them, every inch covered in nothing but the color yellow and ducks.

"Welcome, child," a woman greets you and you turn to face her. She's sitting at a round table, auburn hair pulled into a bun. She's older, much older, but her eyes are youthful as they take you in. "I am Mother Edith, but you can call me Mamma." Yeah, not happening.

"Hi." You wave your hand, unsure what else to do. She motions for you to join her and you sit at the table.

"Lucifer has told me of your arrival," she says.

"He has?"

"Yes." She pulls out a black mirror, placing it down flat on the table. Her hands hover above it. "He has told me about you, how a girl would arrive asking to be a ritual sacrifice." Damn, news traveled fast. Did that mean he was watching you? How did he know about you? So many questions swirled through your thoughts, making you dizzy.

"Then, if you know why I'm here, will you help me?" you ask. You start to explain your story but she silences you.

"Lucifer has already given us his answer. He says," she pauses, hands waving over the mirror. You wait with bated breath. "Fat chance." Huh?

"Huh?"

"Ain't gonna happen." Edith drops her hands, leaning back in her chair. You blink.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're shit out of luck. Lucifer denies you, won't accept you. Not for him, not for any demon," she explains. Your fists clenched. What the fuck?

"What the fuck? What do you mean he won't accept me? It's not even him I'm sacrificing myself for!" You stand from your chair. This was bullshit.

"No," Edith replies, her demeanor calm, "but he is the one who oversees any and all activities related to Hell. Nothing we do here happens unless he allows it. That includes sacrifices."

"Then I'll just find someone else."

"They won't do it, either."

"What?"

"Any and all persons who follow under him have now been told to deny you."

"So what? I'm like, banned from Hell now?" Edith nods. "Oh, fuck you." You don't hold back as the anger builds. "Fuck you and your stupid little rules. You know what? Fuck him, too!"

"Watch your tongue, child," Edith warns, but you're on a roll now. On a mission.

"Isn't he suppose to be some powerful fucking being, evil beyond human comprehension? I'd be just another soul for his collection anyways, right? Another mortal claimed by Hell to rub into God's face?" She doesn't reply and you continue. "Sounds more like a pussy to me. Probably can't even fucking do half the shit the bible says he can." You look around, needing to throw something. To break something. You spot one of the ducks.

"Don't -" Edith tries to stop you, but you've already done it. The figurine hits the floor, shattering. You huff, feeling slightly better. You turn to give Edith more of your anger, pausing when you see her body go slack. A chill runs up your spine, the air turning cold. The lights flicker. Shit.

"You come into my house, uninvited," Edith starts, but it's not her voice. This voice is deeper, darker as she stands from her chair. "You badmouth me in my own home and then have the nerve to BREAK MY THINGS?" You flinch and squat down as the voice shouts loudly, a flash of bright light blinding you for a second. You peek open an eye. Standing where Edith just was is a man, red eyes narrowed towards you. His skin is pale white, blonde hair tucked back under a hat. Large, red horns protrude from his forehead, fire crackling between them. Your eyes go wide as you realized who it is standing before you.

Lucifer.

taglist - @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf, @youroneandonlysimp, @alastorstandard, @florelll, @nyxnightshade7656, @rinitachan, @saccharine-nectarine, @nyxnightshade7656

Masterlist ... Ao3

[doggone-devil]

normally sketchy with Alastor AI covers but this..... this one I actually really love like omg

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Lose Your Soul: Chapter 1

And today is the day, my Dear Readers! We are back with the sequel to How (Not) to Summon a Demon! While I'm extremely nervous to post as this chapter took a bit longer to write than I'd hope, I am also excited to post it and get this story rolling. So without further ado, here is chapter one of How (Not) to Lose Your Soul! Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: bit of profanity

Gold paints your skin with the morning sun as light dances with you in a field of grass. A cool breeze tickles your neck, your hair whirling around you as you spin, faster and faster. Giggles, bubbling like champagne, erupt from your chest as you're lowered backwards, one arm clasp around a slender neck while you throw the other above you, curving into the dip. Red eyes search for yours, smile stretching wide when they meet as a soft whisper brushes against your skin, "Ma Chérie."

Your smile matches his as he brings you upright, hands settling on his chest. Your heart swells when you see how he looks at you, love written clearly across his face. You tilt your head up, placing a tender kiss upon his cheek. "I love you," you breathe, giggling when he returns the kiss to your forehead.

"I -" He speaks, but you can't hear his words.

"What?" you ask, smile faltering. His brows pinch together and he speaks again, but you hear nothing. The air around you stills, growing cold. The sunlight no longer feeling warm on your skin  as clouds gather overhead. You feel a tug on your leg and scream when a hand starts to pull you down. You reach out for him but he's no longer there, an empty space where he once stood. You scream again, clawing at the grass as you're dragged beneath the ground. Your head is barely above as you gasp for air, coughing as dirt begins to fill your lungs. Your chest is on fire, you can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can't -

You bolt upright in a panic, heart pounding. Your hand flies up to  your throat, rubbing it. There's no dirt as you gasp and cough, sweat beading down your forehead. Tears begin to form as you take in the unfamiliar room. To your left, you hear Veronica groan, rolling over under the covers. A lamp clicks on, dim light spilling into the room.

"What happened?" She sounds worn out but concerned. You wipe at your cheeks, sniffling as you turn your back to her, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"N-Nothing, sorry," you croak, voice hoarse. Your hear the blankets move again as she stifles a yawn.

"Another nightmare?" You sniff again, nodding your head. Your hands grip the edge of the bed tightly as his face flashes before you, a bittersweet reminder of what you couldn't have. Veronica sighs behind you. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No." You stand up, walking to the mini fridge on the other side of the room. The water you grab is cold to the touch, soothing as you gulp it down, the bottle crinkling loudly. You spare a glance at a clock hanging on the wall. It's 3:48 in the morning meaning you've only gotten roughly three hours of sleep. Damn.

"We heading out now?" Veronica asks. You throw the empty bottle in the trash before walking to your bag in the corner, pulling out a clean sweater.

"May as well. Still got another two hours to go before we reach Savannah." You slip on a pair of jeans, searching next for your hiking boots. You debate whether to add a jacket, knowing the temperature for the day was going to be cold. The weatherman even warned about ice collecting on the roads, but you doubt it.

"Can't we get at least another hour of sleep? We've already been driving for ten hours yesterday," Veronica complains, falling back onto her pillows. "My butt still hurts!"

"You knew what you were getting in to," you remind her, packing the rest of what you don't need back into your bag. You were surprised at how little you actually needed when it came to hunting demons.

"I know, I know," Veronica states, "and I'm not going anywhere but, damn girlie, can't we slow down just a little? It's not like he's going anywhere any time soon." You frown, standing up straight.

"What?" You're glaring, you know you are, but her words cut through you like a hot knife, stirring up anger.

"Wait, you're taking it the wrong way," she corrects herself.

"Am I?"

"Yes!" She stands up with a huff. "You're acting as if you're on a deadline to find him when in reality, he's not going anywhere. He's an immortal soul in Hell for fuck's sake." Veronica is angry now, too, and for why you're not sure, but it's pissing you off more. What right does she have to be angry? It was you that lost everything, not her. You were the one who had your very love ripped away from you. You were the one here on Earth while he was stuck in Hell, no way of knowing if you were alive or not. For all he knew, you had died and gone to Heaven, never to be with him for all of eternity. No, you had to find him and tell him. You had to summon him back to Earth and tell him that you're alive and well, and that you love him. No matter what it took or how long, this was something you needed to do and Veronica was just going to have to deal with that.

"I might be on a deadline," you say, grabbing your backpack and slinging it onto your shoulder. You don't wait for her as you head to the hotel room door.

"What do you mean?" she asks, nearly tripping as she tries to get dress in a hurry to follow you.

"His book was stolen, taken. That means whatever is trying to stop me from summoning him will be trying to keep me from finding other ways to get to him." It made sense to you. Ever since your encounter with the angel, her words a solemn warning, you knew time was against you. Your jaw tightens as you remember what she had said, 'Let's see if you can find your filthy demon again.' 

"Wait up," Veronica pants, closing the door behind her. You make your way down the steps of the building to the parking lot below. As you reach your car, you pop the trunk and toss your bag inside before slamming it close again. Veronica finally catches up. "Look, I'm sorry," she apologizes, "I didn't mean to sound -"

"Like a bitch?" you finish for her. She flinches and you sigh, turning to face her. "I'm sorry, too." Veronica pulls you into a tight hug.

"We'll find him, girlie, I know we will," she says. You clear your throat, not wanting to cry for what seemed like the hundredth time that week.

"I'm going to go return this key. Start the car for me, yeah?" You toss her the car keys and walk to the hotel front desk. There's no one here, the office empty as you look around. Shrugging, you drop the keys on to the desk. As you turn, a cold breath breathes down your spine. You whip around, ready to punch whoever is that close to you, but there's nothing.

"Hello?" you call out. You feel the same cold air tickle your neck again except now, a hand joins it, gripping your throat tightly. You raise your hands to claw at the hand but feel nothing. It's like the air itself is choking you, pressure causing your head to grow faint as you struggle to breathe.

"Turn back," a voice whispers into your ear. You feel your feet leave the floor, dangling as you're lifted up. "Go Home." Your eyes roll to the back of your head, vision going black. Just as you feel yourself slipping from consciousness, your dropped to the floor harshly, falling to your knees. You cough roughly, inhaling gulps of air to refill your lungs, chest burning.

"Are you ok?" You see an older woman come into view from behind the office desk, her blue eyes worried as she looks you over. You stand weakly, ignoring her and pushing open the door to step outside. Veronica stands by your car, messing with her phone before looking up at you. Her eyes widen as she moves to intercept you, her hands gently reaching for your neck.

"The fuck happened?" She looks past you to the office then back to you, her nostrils flaring angrily. You shake your head, stepping around her. "Was it them again? I swear, if I catch them doing it, I'm gonna -" she pauses, "- probably not be able to do anything, but I will give them an earful!"

"It's becoming more frequent," you mumble. You climb into your car, starting the engine. Pulling up your phone, you select a route to Savannah, Georgia. Veronica hops in next to you, buckling her seatbelt.

"Think we're getting close?" she asks. You shrug, placing your phone on the mount that sits on your dashboard.

"Don't know, but I like to think that's the case." You buckle up, putting the car in reverse. "Why else would they be actively trying to kill me?" The tires screech as you pull out onto the highway, headlights bright as you drive.

"I still can't believe it," Veronica shakes her head. tucking a leg beneath her. “Demons, angels, heaven, hell; I miss being ignorant to all of this.” You want to say you agree with her, that you want to return to a world where you still believed science over faith. You can’t, though. Alastor had opened you up to a brand new world and even if they skies were darker without him right now, you wouldn’t change a thing. “Are you sure it’s angels?” She tucks a leg beneath her, her arm propping on the door.

“Not really?” You take an exit that directs you towards the interstate the continue, “I’ve only met one but she made it pretty clear that all of heaven is against me.” You can’t forget what she said, her words replaying in your head. ‘Let's see if you can find your filthy demon again.’ Your grip on the steering wheel tightens, knuckles going white. If this was a challenge, then you were going to win and smugly rub it in her face.

Veronica shifts in her seat, grabbing the folded map sitting between you. It’s wrinkled and worn, red circles placed in different areas with notes scribbled next to them. She spreads it open, taking a look. “You said we’re heading to Savannah, right?” You nod your head in confirmation and she continues. “According to this, we’re gonna be looking for an old plantation house. Apparently the previous owners claim it to be haunted by a demon.” She shudders, putting the map back.

“Hopefully the rumors are true,” you say. You don’t want this to be just another dead end like the previous four places you’ve visited. Truth be told, they were all long shots, each destination hand picked from hours of online research. You looked for everything from ghost stories to possessions, marking down the ones that seemed particularly promising. The first four left you empty handed, the rumors being just that with not a single demon to be found. It hurt, thinking all of this would be for nothing, but you had to push on. You just had to, for him.

Ignoring the way your mind wandered, you placed your focus back on the road. Traffic was nonexistent as you drive, speeds exceeding local limits to make up for lost time. As you draw closer to the coastal city, the sky starts to lighten up. It’s nearly six in the morning when you make it, traffic building as people begin to head to work. You slow down, filtering in as you hand Veronica your phone.

“Put in that house address, will ya?” you ask. As she updates the route, you search for a gas station, nature calling. Spotting a exon, you quickly park at a pump and turn off the car. “Be right back.” You step out and walk swiftly to the small building, beelining for the bathroom. You excuse yourself as you bump into a rather tall man, disappearing into the restroom for a minute. When you come back out, the same man is a few feet away, occupying himself with a random bag of chips. Normally you wouldn’t pay no mind to a stranger, but the way he’s dressed has the hair on your neck standing up.

Wearing all black and darkened sunglasses, he looks straight out of an action film, like a bad guy waiting to ambush the protagonist. You keep an eye on him as you head to the coolers, grabbing two cokes for you and Veronica. You walk up to the register and set them down, waiting as the cashier rings them up.

“That’ll be $4.35.” You pull out your card and pay, taking the drinks and heading out the door. You quickly climb back into your car, handing Veronica hers. As you start your car, you see the man walk out, looking around before pausing when he sees you. Fuck.

“Hang on,” you mumble, giving Veronica no time to react as you put the car in gear and peel out of the station. As you merge into traffic, you check your rear view mirror to see if the man followed you, but he’s still standing in the parking lot. You relax a little and focus on the road.

“The hell? We being chased or something?” Veronica asks, turning in her seat to look out the back of the car. "Is it more angels?" She starts to panic, grabbing the handle above her on the car roof.

“I thought,” you shake your head. “Never mind.” You’re being paranoid, the events earlier at the hotel being to blame, you think. The guy could've been lost or waiting for someone. Maybe you should've listened to Veronica and stayed at the hotel a few hours more. No, you think to yourself, whether or not you're actually on a deadline, you didn't want to waste any more time. You heart aches with the need to see him again, to hold him, to hear his voice call your name.

You blink back the tears and continue driving, praying to the Universe for this lead to be the one.

Whew and that's chapter 1 posted! Thank you all for the comments, likes, and support, and as always, my Dear Readers, I will see you in the next chapter~!

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf, @youroneandonlysimp, @alastorstandard, @florelll, @nyxnightshade7656

*To be added to the taglist, comment below! <3

╰┈➤ Masterlist ✎

[doggone-devil]

Reblogging again because I just can't stop watching this 🤣🤣

Lucifer: *enters the hotel*

Alastor: I cast vicious mockery 😈

An animation my sis and I made for fun

Music is Perception Check by Tom Cardy.

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 10 (The End)

Here it is, my dear readers, the final chapter! The end to our story and with that, a big announcement! I am now writing a sequel! This book is now a series. How (Not) to Lose Your Soul will continue where we left off here, with the first chapter being released March 10th, 2024. I do hope you've all enjoyed this one and I hope its ending was well worth the wait. I look forward to seeing you all in the next one, my dear readers. <3 Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of death, mental breakdowns, loss, and use of profanity

It's instant, happening as fast as the bullet that pierced the air.

One second, he's looking at you as you look up at him, his heart thumping against his chest. He feels peace, something he hadn't in a very long time, and then it's gone.

He shouts your name, hearing Veronica scream but his focus is on you as you fall. He quickly grabs you, easing you to the ground gently. He calls your name again. "Stay with me!" You try to reach out for him but your hand falls. He looks down and his eyes widen. Blood. Your blood. So much of it spilling out from the wound in your chest. Your shirt is stained red. His heart stops, eyes watering. His smile hurts and he curses the way it stays on his face. He doesn't want to smile. Not now.

"You can't leave me," Alastor whispers, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. He feels hands start to pull him away, growling and snarling at them. Police are pushing him back as medics begin to touch you.

"Stay away from her!" he shouts at them. He has to protect you. He has to.

"Al, it's ok! They're going to help her!" Veronica says, stepping into view. Alastor glances at her then back to you. The police release him and he falls to the ground on his knees. He watches as they lift you up on a stretcher, carrying your limp body to the ambulance.

It's so sudden when it happens. He can feel it, like a string being cut. You're gone.

Green swirls around him, the light blinding and he fights against it.

"No! I have to stay, I have to be here with her! I can't leave!" he screams against the light, clawing at it to stay where he is. His hands pass through the asphalt, his body becoming transparent. "No!"

The scenery before him melts into one he's so familiar to, and yet unknown. The hard ground of the parking lot turns to plush carpet of the hotel lobby as Alastor is dropped back into Hell. The contract had been terminated, nullified by your death.

You were dead.

"Alastor!" Charlie runs over to where Alastor stays kneeled, his arms hanging limp, eyes wide as he stares numbly at the floor. "Alastor?" He looks up at her, the tears falling through. She gasps, "What happened?"

The smile that plagues him quivers as he speaks.

"I lost her." Charlie looks confused, placing her hand on Alastor's shoulder. "Lost who, Al?" The others are coming around now yet giving him space, their faces all carrying the same look of disbelief as they watch Alastor come undone.

His shadows start to dance around him, growling and hissing as they rise. His hands claw at his face. Charlie pulls back in fear, Vaggie coming to guide her further away. The shadows continue to swirl around him, giggling and laughing like children. Their hands clasp together, capturing Alastor inside the circle as green symbols appear. Green stitches thread through his lips and his clothes. He slams his fists to the ground, a painful howl releasing from him as his shadows scream. They break the circle and run rampant through the hotel, shaking the walls and rattling the furniture.

He rips at the carpet, anger and hurt burning through his chest as he whimpers. "I lost her."

--

Six days.

You had been in the hospital for six days when news of your ex's arrest made it to you. Veronica, your loyal friend, had made sure the police knew what happened, telling them about your history with John as she showed them the video from your phone. That, plus the fact that he shot you, landed him in prison for life. He was gone for good and yet you couldn't feel happy about it.

When you asked Veronica about Alastor, she had frowned, grabbing  your hands gently. She explained how she tried to give him a ride to the hospital where they were taking you, but when she turned to tell him, he was gone. She had looked all around the parking lot, but nothing. Your heart dropped and you cried.

Deep down, you knew what had happened. The contract you formed with him when you did the summoning would only end when you either made your wish or if your life somehow ended before then. The doctors were able to resuscitate you, but you were dead for over a minute. You knew that's when it happened, the thread holding you and Alastor together had broke.

Another five days and the hospital cleared you to go home. The bullet had pierced your lung and you had lost an alarming amount of blood. Luckily, they were able to save you, a miracle they said. You didn't feel like it was a miracle.

Veronica helped you home, the apartment feeling cold and lonely. You glance at Alastor's room, expecting to see him there, smiling up at you and welcoming you home. The room is empty, cold. You feel the urge to cry returning.

"I'm gonna grab you some water, ok?" Veronica says, helping you to sit on the couch. You sit there numbly as she power walks to the kitchen, staring at nothing until she returns. She calls your name but you don't listen. Sighing, she sets the glass down on the coffee table. "Girlie, talk to me, please," she asks, grabbing your hands in hers. The tears begin to flow slowly.

"He's gone," you whisper.

"Well, yeah. Bastard's gonna rot in jail now." You shake your head.

"He's gone," you say again.

"Oh, you mean," she stops, not wanting to say his name in fear of you crying harder. "I'm sure he'll come back." You want to believe her, but you know he's gone. He was in Hell while you were stuck on Earth. The pain in your heart tumbles forth and you shake your head again, closing your eyes tight. You sob harder, wincing when your body shakes, pain throbbing in your chest. The wound was healed enough to no longer be fatal, but the remnants left behind still hurt.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye," you whisper through the tears.

"You make it sound like you won't ever see him again," Veronica jokes, but her smile fades when you don't laugh. "Oh honey. You love him, don't you?"

"Yes," you admit, your hands gripping your chest. You love him. You love him so much and you didn't even get to tell him, the chance ripped away from you. Veronica grabs you and pulls you into a tight hug. She rubs your back in an attempt to calm you.

"It's gonna be ok," she says. "If I know anything, it's that he loves you back so I'm sure he'll come waltzing through that door any day now."

"He won't," you sigh, wiping some of the tears away.

"Well not with that attitude. You gotta have some hope, right? Do you have his number? We could call him!" Veronica pulls out her phone. You stop her.

"It won't work."

"And why not?" she questions. You feel strange for what you're about to say, like you're betraying him in some way, yet you decide she needs to know.

"He's not here."

"Yeah, I got that Sherlock," she states, rolling her eyes. You shake your head.

"I meant he's not here on Earth." She looks at you like you've lost your head.

"Ok, gonna need you to start making sense here, girlie."

"Remember the book?" you ask. She nods. "Remember when I said I tried it out, too, when you went to get pizza?" She nods again and you sigh. "It worked."

"Wait, so," she sits further onto the couch, turning towards you, "are you saying that Alastor isn't here because he's the demon you summoned from the book?"

"Yep," you say with a pop.  "Sounds insane when you say it."

"That's cause it is!" She stares at you in disbelief. "I mean, come on! The man might've been a bit weird, but, a demon?"

"A demon," you repeat, ignoring the look she gives you. You decide to give her the whole story.  "He appeared in my room that following morning, talking about Hell and how he was contracted to make a wish with me for my soul." You smile fondly as you tell her about the deal you two made, how he'd live with you until you could make a wish. You even told her how you tried to make a wish for her but it was against the rules.

"You know this sounds bat shit crazy, right?" Veronica asks.

"Crazy or not, he was real. He was real and now he's … gone," you choke on the last word, folding in on yourself. Veronica frowns, crossing her arms.

"Well, you summoned him once, right? Do it again."

You look up at her. "What?"

"If you really did summon him, just do it again. We still have the book don't we?" You jerk upright, gasping in pain. "Easy!"

"The book," you say through the pain. "Where is it?"

"It's," Veronica trails off, looking around. You look, too, unable to spot it. You can't remember where you had put it, either, after that night. "Well, shit."

"We have to find it." You stand up, swaying slightly before moving forward. "Check the cushions. Under the table. It's got to be here."

"Alright, alright. Calm down, we'll find it." Veronica helps you look. It's not anywhere in the living room, nor in the kitchen or on the dining table. Did Alastor move it? God, you hope not. You'd never find it then. "Check your bedroom!" Veronica suggests.

"Good idea." You walk to your bedroom, throwing open the door. Your check under your covers, in your nightstand, your closet. You even force yourself to bend over to check under the bed, ignoring Veronica's protests. It's not there.

The book is gone.

"Fuck!" you shout, kicking your bed frame. You hiss at the pain in your toe.

"Don't hurt yourself more," Veronica warns, coming to help you. "Books don't just get up and walk away. We'll find it."

"Veronica, if I -," tears spill once again. "I have to see him again."

"Good lord, leave it to you to fall in love with a demon," Veronica huffs. "But I ain't one to not help my best friend after she's finally found someone. Not after all these years of me desperately trying. We'll get your man-demon-whatever, don't you worry." You manage to smile, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, girlie." Veronica returns the hug, gentle as to not irritate your chest. You pull back, wiping the tears from your cheeks. You felt a surge of determination, of renewed hope. You were going to find that book, you were going to summon Alastor again, and you were going to tell him how you feel. Then, you would make your wish and neither Hell nor Heaven could stop you.

A knock at the front door startles you and Veronica, the two of your sharing a puzzled look. You weren't expecting company and neither was she.

"Stay here," Veronica mumbles, grabbing pepper spray from her pocket as she leaves to go see who it is. You wait patiently, worried, until she reappears.

"Who was it?" you ask.

"It's for you," she responds blankly, her eyes glazed over. You stand, walking to her.

"Veronica?" You wave your hand in front of her face, but she doesn't respond. You look past her and see a tall woman standing in your apartment. You quickly step around Veronica, shielding her. "What have you done?"

"What needs to be done," the woman speaks, her voice cold. It unnerves you.

"Who are you?"

"We both know you know the answer to that, my child," the woman says. You look at her more closely. Her eyes are angled, like an owl, her hair feathered out and down her back, pure white. It reminds you of feathers.

"You're an angel."

"Correct." She steps closer, her hands outstretched. "You have committed the ultimate sin, little one. I'm here to warn you. Turn back now, forget what has happened, and all shall be forgiven."

"What?" Forget what has happened? Forget… "No." You glare at her, fists clenched.

"No?" Her stone blue eyes narrow at you. "You would defy the word of Heaven?"

"I would defy the word of God himself if it meant I could stay with him," you state, teeth bared at her.

"Watch your tongue, little one. I can not save you from the fires if you so willingly go towards them," she warns. You bark out a laugh.

"If the fires are what I must walk through to return to him, I would gladly do so any day. Not you, nor any one else, is going to stop me."

"How sad." She drops her arms, her form shifting from human to something otherworldly. Her lips sharpen into a beak, her lashes growing out past her face. Multiple wings sprout from her back. "I ask once more, my child. Would you deny the gates of heaven, eternal peace, for a demon?" She sneers the word, as if it burns her tongue just to speak it.

"Yes," you answer. There is no hesitation, no doubt in your mind as you confirm your resolve. This is what you want.

"Very well, then." Her wings stretch out wide, flapping once. "Let's see if you can find your filthy demon again." In a flash of light, she's gone, silver glitter falling where she once stood. You hear Veronica groan behind you.

"The fuck just happened?"

You walk over to the front door, picking up a single feather. You twirl it in your hand, looking at Veronica with fire in your eyes. If Heaven was so adamant to stop you, taking away your only connection to him, then you'd go find another way. If you couldn't have his book, then you'd find another. You'd use every book depicting summoning you could get your hands on, calling forth any and every demon that would answer, until you found him. No matter the cost.

"Grab your hiking gear," you say, crushing the feather in your palm.

"What, why?" Veronica looks at you, confused. You smile, letting the crumpled feather fall to the floor.

"We're going hunting."

Until we meet again, my dear readers!

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf, @youroneandonlysimp, @alastorstandard, @florelll

Masterlist ... Ao3

[doggone-devil]

Death of a Legend

Just found out Akira Toriyama passed away...

Excuse me while I go cry my eyes out.

[doggone-devil]

just wanted to let my followers know my username changed; it's changed from goat-cannibal to doggone-devil

[doggone-devil]

WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

CURSED CAT ALASTOR IS LITERALLY ON EVERYTHING!!!! tumblr, tiktok, PINTEREST!?!?! NOTHING IS SAFE ANYMORE!!!!!!!

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 9

My dear readers, it seems we are closing in to the final chapters. It has been a journey and I could not have asked for better company to be with me as we ride this rollercoaster together. It's been one Hell of a ride. Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: THE FOLLOWING CONTENT IS RATED FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE. This chapter contains sexual content, masturbation, mentions of sexual assault, rape, abuse, threatening, profanity, and descriptions of death.

You were mental. Had to be. Alastor knew that now. You were insane to think about knowingly placing yourself in harm's way just when he got so attached to you. Didn't you understand that humans were fragile creatures? You didn't have strength like him, powers to get you out of dangerous situations. This was Earth, the land of the living. There was no coming back if you…

Alastor tore the thought away. No, you were going to make your wish after this. You were going to become his and this worm, this maggot will be dealt with swiftly. Oh, how he was going to love hearing that filth's screams. He was going to take his time with him, slowly and surely. Death would only be so lucky to claim him once Alastor was done.

Attempting to calm himself, Alastor looks down at your sleeping form. He was surprised when you asked him to lay with you, in your bed. He had protested, of course, mentioning how inappropriate it would be but you wouldn't have it. You had simple mentioned how it was 2024 - why the year matter was lost to him - and gripped his shirt with your little hands, tugging until he gave in.

Now you were tucked into his side, face buried against his shoulder as he held you. You were so soft, your body warm against his cold soul. He reaches out with his hand, stroking your cheek. You hum pleasantly in your slumber, scooting up slightly to tuck your nose into the joint where his neck met his shoulder. He felt his chest thump, hard, and willed his heart to be still for fear of waking you.

You were becoming a plague to his mind, a leech who attached itself to him and yet he found he didn't mind. You were his now, even if he hasn't told you. After you deal with your ex, he would tell you. Then you could make your wish and seal the deal. Alastor knew you'd happily be with him, but he had no idea of the life you lived before him, whether it was good or bad. For all he knew, with how gentle of a soul you were, you'd go to heaven after your death. He couldn't have that, not now. The wish would secure the contract, giving your soul to him. Only then, would he own you and your soul would fall to Hell where he could keep you forever.

Forever, he hums to himself.

That sounded pleasant. He wanted to keep you forever, tied to him so you couldn't escape. Your small form right next to his, your sweet smile only beaming at him. He wouldn't let another demon near you, let alone touch you. He would kill any who dared to even look at your beauty.

How would you react when he takes their pitiful lives? When he rips their bodies apart and feeds you their severed limbs? Would you graciously accept, licking the blood from those plump lips of yours? His body shudders. You would look so delectable, the blood of your fallen enemies dripping from your chin. He could lick it away, clean you of their filth happily. He would strip you bare and make sure not an inch of your heavenly form was marked by anything other than his lips.

His pants become tight, uncomfortable. He craved you now, wanting to taste you, to hear your soft, sweet gasps and moans as he devoured you. He stops his hand before it can touch you, pulling it back. This was becoming dangerous. He knew you wanted him by your side but if he stayed any longer, Hell only knows what he'll do. Easing his arm out from under you, he slips into the shadows and back to his own room.

He appears on his bed, panting, his body hot and needy. He covers his mouth with his hand, the other sliding down to release himself. He bites into his palm, drawing blood, his hand moving quick to the image of your lithe body beneath him. He sees your lips parted, your eyes hooded and glazed over with lust. Your skin is flushed, exposed only to him like an empty canvas ready to be painted. A swipe of his thumb has his hips jerking forward, antlers growing slightly, rubbing against the headboard.

Your name falls like a prayer from guilty lips as he empties himself into his hand. He stares up at the ceiling, bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. With a flick of his wrist, the mess is gone. He turns onto his side, facing the door of the room. His eyes look past it to where you sleep.

"Soon, my dear," he whispers, closing his eyes. "Soon."

__

"Alright!" You slap your hands flat on the kitchen counter. "I'm due to meet him in thirty minutes. Does everyone know the plan?"

"Yep! As soon as Mr. A is for an Abusive Asshole even dares to lay a hand on you, I'm calling the cops," Veronica answers, determination clear on her face. You turn to Alastor. He's silent, jaw tight. You begin to think this was a bad idea, but you can't. You have to do this.

"Alastor?"

"If he touches you, I kill him," he says through gritted teeth.

"Woah there, knight in shining armor. We want him alive so that we can, you know, get him arrested?" Veronica reminds him. Alastor's hands clench into fists and you watch him hide them behind his back.

"He won't hurt me, Al," you say, not meaning to shorten his name like that. You remember he hated when Veronica did it and you expect him to correct you, but he doesn't. Instead, his smile and eyes soften, his hands resting at his side. You smile back at him. It's a tender moment, but you can't let it linger. You take a steadying breath, pushing off the counter. "Ok. Let's get going."

You grab your keys, checking your boots to make sure they're laced properly before following Veronica out the door. You decided it best to wear an outfit that would be easy to move in; a white tee tied at your waist, high-rise gym shorts, and combat boots. The boots were a bonus, making you feel like a badass. You needed something to give you fake confidence, after all. You were about to jump into the belly of the beast and it honestly had you rattled with fear, but somehow, you were moving.

It takes a nerve racking ten minutes to reach the destination you planned out. It's a Wal-Mart parking lot, public and with lots of people. Safe, you thought as you park your car. Your ex had always did his work behind closed doors. You hoped that was still true as you scan the area, hoping to recognize his shitty brown sedan. You don't see it, thinking maybe he upgraded or is borrowing someone else's vehicle. You wait nervously in your seat, your hands fiddling with the seatbelt.

"Is he here?" Veronica asks next to you, looking around.

"I don't know," you answer, knee bouncing as you search. Suddenly, three spots down, you see a green Toyota pull up. The windows are tinted, too dark to see who's inside. It's not the sedan you were expecting, but you know it's him. You open your door, startled when Alastor is already out of the car next to you.

"This won't work if you approach him with me," you tell him. Alastor strains to keep his composure. You place your hand on his chest. "Al, please. Trust me." He looks down at you, eyes filled with emotions you can't quite decipher. It makes your heart flutter to see him so worried about you, but you can't let this waver you. You need this to happen. Alastor seems to understand, stepping to the side.

"Wait," he grabs your wrist before you can move, bringing it to his lips. He kisses the back of your hand. "I'll be right here if you need me, ma chérie." You blush as he lets go of your hand and returns to the car. Great, now you wanted to just forget this whole thing and return home with Alastor.  

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. It's now or never. You start approaching the car, boots thumping loudly against the parking lot. You hear the engine die and watch the driver side door open. John steps out, a smug smirk on his ugly face. He hasn't changed one bit, still sporting the same spikey, frosty-tipped hair he stole from the 90s. He leans against his car, arms folded across his chest. Your heart feels like it's about to jump out of your chest.

"About time you saw the error in your ways," John spits at you. You pull your phone out, adjusting it so that the camera is now pointing at him subtly. "Come to beg for your life, bitch?"

"No," you state, stopping just a few steps away from him. Better to keep your distance. "I actually came to tell you your game of cat and mouse is over." The smirk falls with his arms.

"The fuck did you say to me?"

"You heard me," your voice wavers slightly. Don't do this. Stay strong. "I'm not yours anymore." John barks out a laugh, pushing off his car. You take a step back when he moves towards you.

"Not mine? Yeah, I can see that." He juts his chin out, motioning behind you. "Too busy fucking that pussy boy you got over there, right?" Your face grows hot with anger and he smirks. He knows about Alastor. The bastard's been spying on you. Just how long has he been doing that for?

"What'd ya bring him for, huh? Think he'll protect you?" John taunts. Your anger snaps.

"I don't need him to. You're going to be behind bars soon enough anyways. Did you forget about all the things you've done to me?" You feel the hot tears forming, your hands shaking. You try to keep them steady for the camera's sake. This will all be for nothing if you can't get clear evidence.

"You enjoyed it, bitch, don't act like you didn't." He moves closer, you step back further. "In fact, I remember you begging for it when I pinned you down. You just couldn't get enough of this, could ya babe?" He grabs his crotch, tugging at it.

"I was begging for you to stop, you asshole!" you shout at him, your voice cracking as you begin to cry. "You raped me! I begged you to stop and you kept going!"

"So why didn't you fight me off, huh?"

"What?"

His grin widened. "Why didn't you fight me off? You could've punched me, scratched me - hell, you could've kicked me in the nuts if you wanted, but. You. Didn't," he enunciated the last three words, leaning close to you. You couldn't move, his face inches from yours. "You didn't stop me because you wanted it, you little slut -"

You hear the bones cracking, John's face no longer in front of you. You blink and see him on the ground, groaning in pain as he holds his cheek. Blood pours from his nose and lip. "The fuck?" he shouts angrily. You look to your left and there's Alastor, body heaving with labored breaths. His face is red, eyes bloodshot as his smile grows beyond human capabilities.

You have enough evidence, pocketing your phone. You wave your hand to Veronica who's already calling the police, giving  you a thumbs up. You grip Alastor's arm. "Al? Let's go." He doesn't move, his teeth turning sharp. Oh no. No, he can't. Not in front of John. "Al?" you call out again and he finally looks at you, features slowly returning to human. Grabbing his hand, you start to head back to your car.

"You think you can just walk away?" you hear John shouting behind you. "I gave you everything! You can't just leave me!"

You turn to John. "It's over. The cops are coming and you'll pay for what you've done."

"Hah, you think I'm afraid of the cops? News flash, bitch, your little boy toy here just assaulted me. If anyone's going to jail, it's him." John stands back up, wobbling slightly. His blood drips down his shirt.

"We'll see about that."

You keep walking. Alastor lets go of your hand, bringing it around you to pull you closer to him. You look up at him, smiling. He smiles back down at you and - there! - you see it, twinkling in his eyes. Love.

"I won't let you go!" You hear your ex shout again, his voice becoming desperate. "You hear me, you bitch?!" It's lost to you as reach your car, Veronica still talking to the cops. You turn to face Alastor, heart overflowing as he gazes down at you.

You had summoned him only a few days ago, bringing him forth from the depths of Hell. He had been a demon in your eyes then, a creature of malicious intent, only wanting your soul. You couldn't see that now. All you see standing before you was Alastor. You decide you know what you want to wish for now. You wanted to be his, for all eternity.

Don't.

You ignore the voice in your head as your lips part, ready to tell Alastor how you feel.

Too late.

"I -" You try to speak, to say those three little words but you can't. It's like the air has been sucked from your lungs, your voice ripped out from you. Warmth spreads throughout your chest and down your stomach while your ears ring. The world starts to slip out from under you as you begin falling backwards. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear a scream, sirens wailing. Your name is being called, but it's so far away.

"Stay with me!"

Alastor? I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, you say but you don't hear your voice. Your lips aren't moving, your breath coming out in wet wheezes.

"You can't leave me," the voice is quieter, closer, but still so far away.

I'm not leaving, Al, you attempt to say again, but nothing. Why couldn't you talk?

The sirens get louder and now hands are on your body, frantic as more voices call out to you. They're beginning to sound muffled, like your underwater. Your vision is blurry and you try to blink. You lift your hand weakly from where the warmth was, feeling something sticky and wet.

You manage to see red.

It's blood.

Your blood.

Told you.

Should have listened.

Silly human.

You feel darkness slowly consuming you, your vision fading fast. Poor soul.

Should have listened.

Too bad.

"Who are you?" you call out. You try to look around, searching for the voices in the dark.

Not who.

What.

We are what.

You gasp as you start to float, your feet lift from the ground beneath you. There's nothing around you now. You're alone.

"Where am I?"

Dead.

Deceased.

In our grasp, now.

"What do you mean?"

Warned you.

But you didn't listen.

Silly, stupid human.

The voices were coming from every direction, disorienting you. You felt dizzy.

"Please, what's going on? Where's Alastor?" you ask.

Demon.

Filth.

Gone, as you are.

"Gone? What do you mean gone? Where is he?"

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

No. He can't be gone. You had to tell him, to reach him. You needed to be with him. "I have to go back!" Your memory was catching up to you. You knew now. You were dying. "Please, let me go back!"

Go back.

To what?

You're dead.

"No, I can't. I have to make my wish!" You had to seal the deal, to be with Alastor. Forever.

No deal.

No wish.

Stay.

"What?"

Stay.

With us.

Stay.

Anger bubbles inside of you. You start to thrash around, trying to find purchase on anything your feet or hands can feel.

Can't escape.

No escape.

Stay.

"No!" you shout.

Silly human.

No escape.

From death.

You feel yourself beginning to cry, but the tears aren't there. You reach out for anything but your fingers touch nothing. Then you see it, in the distance. A light. It's small, barely flickering, but it's there. A way out.

No.

Don't go.

Can't go.

You feel something grab your leg, tugging you down. You kick at it, flailing your arms to move towards the light.

Can't go.

Won't go.

Must stay.

"No!" You repeat, swimming now through the voice. The light grows closer, brighter. Pain starts to bloom in your chest, making you scream out in agony. The light flickers, dimming and you reach out for it. You have to get to it. You have to. For Alastor.

Gone.

Lost.

Sad.

The three voices are growing faint as the light glows brighter. You squint your eyes, blinded by it. The darkness begins to fade around you as you begin to feel your body again. The pain is increasing, ripping through you. You cry out, your screams piercing the silence. Your ears begin ringing again as mechanical beeps sound off around you. You feel hands on your body, poking and prodding. You move against them.

"Hold her steady!" a voice shouts and you scream again, searing hot pain filling your senses. Make it stop. Please, make it stop. You feel a sharp poke in your arm. "Stay with us, come on." You start to feel weak again, your body going limp. You can't fall asleep, you can't. You try to fight it, to stay awake, but your exhausted body doesn't respond anymore.

 As you begin to succumb to the darkness again, you weakly call out Alastor's name, hoping that somehow, some way, he can hear you.

I am so sorry, my dear readers. Please forgive me.

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf, @youroneandonlysimp, @alastorstandard, @florelll

Masterlist , Ao3

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 8

...and so it begins, my dear Readers. So it begins. Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of abusive, r/p/e, exes being absolute assholes, Alastor ready to kill, threats, stalking

Word Count: 2, 525

The day had gone surprisingly well, despite the horrible way it started. You had spent it with Alastor and Veronica, but mostly Alastor since your roommate decided she wanted to go do other things. Alastor had been a wonderful gentleman, holding doors open for you, letting you hold his arm as you walked. He even had you on his right side, away from the road. He was so old fashion it made you swoon, but you fought off the butterflies and kept a cool head.

Now you sat on the hood of your car, waiting for Veronica who said twenty minutes ago that she was just finishing up at a store and would be on her way. The sun was setting, turning the sky orange and red, little stars starting to shine through overhead. You glance at Alastor who stood by the car, his eyes watchful around the parking lot.

"Sorry she's taking so long," you apologize again, holding your head in your hands as you prop your elbows on you knees.

"It's alright. I'm sure she's just having fun," he says. "I hope you did, as well." You can't fight the large smile as it comes.

"Yeah, I did. Did you?" You watch his face carefully, trying to see if you can read him. It's hard, what with his constant smile. Why was that?

"Indeedy! Might be the most fun I've had since 1933!" You giggle, watching him spread his arms out and swirl his cane. He stops and faces you, dipping low. "Was a pleasure, my dear, thank you."

"Don't thank me," you say, crossing your arms. "Veronica was the one who mentioned it." You initially were going to stay in your room today and worry if your ex was coming to kidnap you. Oh no. Now you were thinking about him. Great. Way to ruin your own mood.

Alastor must notice how your shoulders drop as he steps forward. His body is blocking your view of Bourbon Street and you have to crane your neck to see him properly. Damn, you forgot how tall he is. "Everything alright, darling?" he asks. You note the way his smile is lowered, still there but now with pressed lips, like a frown.

"I'm ok," you lie. You don't want to burden him with your troubles. He's a demon, you're sure he won't care. No matter how much fun you had today, no matter what he says or does, he's only here cause you summoned him. Once you make your wish, he's gone. There's no point in letting your heart melt like it's doing now, no point in gasping when he leans close to you. Why is he so close?

"Darling," he says softly, tilting your chin to make you look up at him again. There's no point falling for him, so why is he making it so hard not to? "If there's anything bothering you, you can tell me. Let me help you." Fuck. Yep. You're screwed. Demon or not, your heart drops like an anchor out in the ocean, falling fast and hard to the sea floor.

"I -"

"There you guys are!" Veronica's voice pulls you back and you lean away from Alastor. You swear you see his brows dip in anger, but it's gone as he straightens up.

"About time you show up," you joke but the smile fades when you see Veronica. Her face is pale, like she's seen a ghost, panting as she catches her breath. Had she been running? "What's wrong?" Veronica looks up at you, clearly worried.

"What does your ex look like again?"

No.

No, no, no.

It can't be.

You feel your body growing cold, your hands shaking. "W-What?"

"It could've been someone else," she backtracks, shaking her head and reaching for your phone. You let her take it, fingers too numb to move. She goes through your photos until she stops on the only recent one you had of your ex. "Oh my god."

Your heart drops again, for a different reason this time. Fear crawls up your spine, wrapping itself around your throat.

Please, it can't be.

"Girlie, we need to leave," Veronica says, trying to hand you your phone back. You don't grab it, you can't move. You're stuck, tears forming.

He's here. He's found you. It's all over.

You hear Veronica shout your name, but it's lost to the rush of wind in your ears. You can't hear anything.

"What's wrong?" Alastor asks. Veronica shows him the photo.

"This douchebag is her ex and he's here. He's like, stalked her or some shit!" Veronica explains. "I know it's not my place to say, sorry girlie -" she sends you an apologetic look "- but this asshole abused her. It's why she left him."

Now you hear your name. It's Alastor this time. He has your head in his hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are glowing red as he peers into yours. You gasp, the damn breaking as you begin to cry. "H-He can't…H-He's going to hurt me!"

"Not while I'm here, he's not," Alastor states, voice hard as he scoops you into his arms. You let him, too scared to move on your own. Veronica's eyes widen, pointing between the two of you.

"Ok, we're going to revisit this later, but right. Let's leave." She takes your keys and gets in the driver's seat, Alastor placing you in the back with him. He buckles you up as Veronica begins to skid off from the parking lot and back to your apartment.

"Does he know where she lives?" you hear Alastor ask, clearly talking to Veronica.

"Not that I know of?" she answers. "I mean, if he showed up there, chances are it's a yes." She hits the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. "God! Why are men such pigs? No offense."

"None taken," Alastor says, looking back down at you. You're shaking like a leaf, eyes unfocused, no doubt lost in your thoughts. He tugs at your chin again but you can't see him. Not clearly. Everything around  you is buzzing, memories of your past clouding your mind. The arguments, the fights, the bruises. You absently rub at your thighs, the scars throbbing. You feel sick.

"Stop," you whisper but it's unheard. You say it again, louder. "Stop!" Veronica slams on the breaks, a car blaring its horn behind you. You claw your way out of the car just as the bile rises. You puke violently, your stomach lurching in disgust as your mind plagues you with the memories of that night. His hands on your body, on your throat, ignoring your cries and pleas for  him to stop. You had begged him, even praying for death when he wouldn't stop. You puke again, couching. A hand rubs your back, but you can't tell who.

"We need to get her back to the apartment," you hear someone say. "It's not safe out here."

Your name is called, faded and faint but you hear it. Then it's in your head, beckoning you. You feel yourself calming down, the sickness in your stomach ebbing away. You stand on weak legs, wobbling and swaying. The hand on your back comes to rest at your hip, steadying you. It's Alastor.

You whimper and lean into him. He picks you back up in his arms, carrying you back to the car. This time, he doesn't bother to buckle you, keeping you in his arms, tight against his chest. You hold on to him, needing him like a lifeline. Veronica gets back in and continues the drive.

It doesn't take long before you're being carried into the apartment, Veronica deadbolting the door behind you. Alastor takes you to your room, setting you on the bed. He goes to move away but you clasp tightly to his shirt. A silent hint for him to stay. He sits down by your side, his hand grasping yours to hold. You don't want to be alone. You can't.

Veronica joins you two, your phone in her hand. She looks pissed, angrier than earlier as she holds the screen up to you. It's opened to your messages and you see the new number, the letters making you feel sick all over again.

'Thought you could get away?'

You grab the phone, deleting the message instantly, but another appears.

'I'm coming for you, little rabbit.'

You throw the phone against your wall, the screen cracking. It goes off again with another notification, then another. You cover your ears, begging it to stop.

"Geez, this guy can't take a hint!" Veronica says. "Should I call the police?" You shake your head violently.

"No!" you shout. "No cops. Please. It'll only make it worse." You remember the last time you got the cops involved. He had charmed his way out of the dispute so easily and the consequences afterwards had nearly killed you. "No cops."

"Ok, ok. No cops." Veronica shifts by your side, kneeling down. "But, girlie, we gotta do something. I've seen the aftermath of this asshole. It took me a year just to get you out of the house. I'm not letting him ruin you again."

"You don't understand," you whisper, rocking back and forth now. "He won't stop. He won't stop coming for me. Not until I'm dead."

"I doubt he'll kill you. Stalk you? Sure. Threaten you? What abusive ex doesn't?"

"Veronica," you interrupt her. It's time to come clean. To tell her everything. "He almost has." Veronica's eyes widen.

"What are you talking about?"

"John almost killed me," you confess, hating the way his name bites at your tongue. "The last time I tried to escape, he nearly killed me, telling me if I ever left him again, he would finish the job. He even…" you trail off, not able to say out loud the horrendous things he did to you. Instead, you sit upright, turning your torso as you lift your shirt. On your lower back at marks, scars from his doing. You don't show her the others, already feeling like you're going to puke again.

"I didn't know." She lifts her hand, as if to touch them, but stops. You lower your shirt back down.

"I didn't tell you," you say. "I didn't want you to know. It's something I've been trying so hard to forget." You glance now, to Alastor. He's been silent the whole time and when you look at him, you know why. His body is vibrating with anger, his eyes cold and dark. The smile he always has, the one that's come to comfort you, is stretched so thin you're worried his skin will crack.

"Alastor?" you call out. His head snaps to you, the anger dissolving only a little. He forces his smile to relax some, for your sake. "Veronica, could I have some time with Alastor? Alone?" You know she's going to question you about it later, but thankfully, she does as you ask. Once she's out of your room, the door shut, you grab Alastor's hands. His finger lengthen, the skin darkening as claws appear. His human form fades away as the demon he is shines through. You gasp.

His horns are large, doubled in size and nearly reaching your ceiling. His eyes are pitch black save for two tiny, red dots. Blood drips down his chin as his sharp teeth bite into his lip, strained from how tight he clenches his jaw.

You should be horrified, terrified, absolutely appalled by his appearance, but you aren't.

Your hand reaches tenderly up to him, turning him to look at you. "Al," you softly speak his name. He leans into your touch but doesn't speak, not at first. A low, guttural growl resonates from within his chest.

"I won't let him touch you." His voice is deep, static dripping on every word. Your startled when he quickly leans over you, his upper body caging you in as he places his hands on either side of your head, forcing you to lay back. "He can't have you."

"He won't." You keep your voice gentle, letting Alastor know that you trust him.

Trust him?

You can't trust him. He's a demon.

No, you disagree with the voice in your head. He may be a demon but you can trust him.

"You said you'll protect me, right?" you ask, watching as Alastor's body slowly begins to relax. You place a hand on his neck, fingers rubbing at the underside of his hair. His antlers shrink back down, the black of his eyes gone with a blink, those warm, red orbs back to normal. You smile up at him, "There he is."

"Sorry," Alastor breathes out.

"It's ok." You don't feel any fear like you did earlier, only warmth and security. You knew that, no matter what, Alastor was here. He was with you and he wouldn't let anything happen to you. Demon or not, you knew the moment he vowed to protect you, you were in love with him.

"I should," Alastor says, moving away from you. He sits at the end of your bed, putting space between you. It makes your heart ache, but you understand. He doesn't want to scare you.

"Girlie, I'm coming in!" Veronica opens your door. "I brought you some water." You panic for a second, looking to Alastor, but he's back to his human form. How quickly he could do that never ceased to amaze you.

She hands you a glass and you thank you, gulping it down. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry, the cold liquid soothing. You set the glass down and stand up, feeling a renewed strength. You walk over to where your phone laid, bending over to pick it up. The screen lit up, thirty new messages unread. You opened them, anger building as you read each one.

"That does it." You turn on your heel, looking at Veronica and Alastor. "If he wants me, I'm not going down without a fight."

"Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"

"You're not confronting him," Alastor states and you shake your head.

"No, but I am going to lure him into a trap. This bastard thinks he can get away with this, he's got another thing coming." You walk back over to your bed. "Here's the plan. Veronica, you'll be my 911 operator. I'm going to get him to think I'm meeting up with him -"

"No."

"- and then once he shows up, I'm gonna have my phone recording everything. Once he starts acting up, you'll call the police -"

"No."

"- and when they get there, I'll have everything on video. Evidence to prove my case against him."

"That's not happening," Alastor repeats, louder this time.

"Don't worry," you say, "you're going to be my backup. If he gets out of hand, you'll jump in and save me. I'll be fine." Alastor doesn't look like he believes you.

"Ok, so when are we doing this?" Veronica asks. You look at your phone, reading the last message John sent you.

"Tomorrow." You swipe your thumbs over the keyboard, typing out the text and hit send. It doesn't even take a second before he's responding, putting  your plan into action.

"Tomorrow, I'm making this bastard pay."

AN: Whew... this is. Yeah. Till tomorrow, my dear readers.

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf

Masterlist , Ao3

[doggone-devil]

I feel so bad with what's about to happen tomorrow.

I don't know if you guys are ready...

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 7

SURPRISE!!!!!! It's another chapter! What? So soon! You betcha! The last chapter had me in a chokehold and I just couldn't. Stop. Writing. So here's chapter seven, lengthy af. Like... it's longer than all the others. I'm so sorry, but it's necessary, I promise! Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of blood, death, violence, Alastor being Alastor Word Count: 3,477 … what have I done XD (Link to the Ao3 posting just in case you wanna read it there and not here!)

“Maybe it’s about a subscription,” Veronica says as you pace back and forth in your room. “You know, letting you know a free trial is up?” You shake your head. You knew what the text was as soon as you saw it. It had woken you up from such a wonderful dream, your mind reeling when those seven letters glared at you. You had laid there, waiting for hours, until you heard Veronica leave her room in the morning before dragging her into yours.

“It’s him, I know it,” you seethe, trying to stay calm. You’re unsure how he even got your number, but if he had that much, then he knew everything. Where you lived, where you worked, who you were in contact with. Veronica. You glance towards her, guilt rising in your chest. She was only aware of the basics of your past fuck up, barely scratching the surface of the shit pile that laid beneath. He could hurt her, no. He would hurt her. Just to get to you.

“Ok, so your crazy ex has your number, no big deal! Just block him.” Veronica grabs your phone, tapping the number of the message. It disappears. “See? Gone.”

“It’s not that simple,” you say, sitting on your bed, placing your head in your hands. “He’s a creep, a level ten stalker. He’ll stop at nothing to find me. Again.” You flinch as you remember everything. He had been such a smooth talker, charming his way into your heart with empty promises. It was a high school love, a dream come true. The unpopular girl getting the prom king type story. After graduation, when the two of you moved north,  that dream turned sour. His true colors slowly showed themselves as he took his anger out on you, the marks on your lower back and upper thighs evidence to that. You managed to run away, to leave him but not for long. Within a few months, he had found you and the treatment was worse. You thought you were going to die, at the hands of that merciless pig.

How you managed to escape the second time, you were unsure. Call it the will of the Divine, but you did escape. You had returned home, scared and always looking over your shoulder. It took Veronica nearly a year just to get you to go anywhere. She thought it was just cause your ex was an asshole. She didn’t know how his hands had been wrapped around your throat, how he sneered at your face turning blue, or how he laughed when you coughed in attempt to regain your breath. He was a monster and now he had found you.

“Girlie, ain’t nothing going to happen,” Veronica says, bringing you back to the present. You don’t mean to flinch when she reaches for you and she pulls away. You apologize but she shakes her head. “Not in this house. There ain’t nothing to say sorry for, ok? You got me here, and even Alastor! He sure as hell will protect ya!”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t see how he looks at you?” You gawk at her, eyes wide. “Figured you didn’t. You’re blind as a bat, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask in disbelief.

“Girlie, that man has looked at you with hearts in his eyes since he showed up. He is hooked.”

You bark out a laugh, bewildered by her statement. “Veronica, I’ve only known him for, what, two days? Three? We barely know each other!”

“Time has nothing to do with love, honey. It can show up and bite you on the butt whenever it wants to.”

“No,” you deny, shaking your head. “It’s impossible.” Not to mention, he’s a demon. You’re pretty sure love is an emotion demons can’t feel, whether they were human before or not. Right? You stand and walk to the foot of your bed, crossing your arms.

“Any why is it impossible, hm?” Veronica follows, stepping in front of you with her hands on her hips. “For the past five years, I’ve been trying to get you set up with someone. I’ve been patient cause I figure it’s hard getting over shitty exes, but girlie, I’m tired of seeing you feel bad for yourself.” You look away from her gaze, guilt rising in your throat. “It’s about time you let someone love you.”

“I can’t.” Your arms drop to your side. “I’m not…”

“What? Worthy?” Veronica looks at you angrily. “You’re worth far more than you think. I see it.” She tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “And he does, too. Give him a chance.”

“Veronica,” you sigh. “He doesn’t like me.” He can’t, you think. He’s only here because you summoned him.

“Alright, that’s it!” You startle when Veronica claps her hands. She walks to your closet and starts yanking out clothes, throwing them right and left.

“What are you doing?”

“Picking an outfit for you,” she answers, spending a second to look at a pink shirt before tossing it, too.

“Why?”

“We’re going out, that’s why!” She stops finally on one of your nicer, pastel blue shirts. It’s cropped with a white daisy printed on the back. She pairs it with some blue jeans shorts and shoves them into your arms. “Put this on. I’m going to go tell Alastor.”

“Wait, what if he’s asleep?” you ask, trying to stop her without dropping your clothes.

“It’s nearly noon, girlie, I’m sure he’s awake. Now hurry up!” She’s out the door before you can protest, leaving you to stand alone the middle of your room. You sigh and drop the clothes onto your bed, knowing there wasn’t any way you were getting out of this.

 —

Alastor quirks a brow when it’s the black haired woman at his door and not you, taking a second to applaud himself for answering with his human disguise. “May I help you?” he asks, making sure not to sound annoyed.

“Wear something comfortable, we’re going out.”

“Beg your pardon?” Alastor’s grip on his door tightens. Veronica looks at him with a smile.

“Not like that, ya goof,” she explains. “Me, you, and girlie are going out for today. She needs it.” Veronica leaves him after, heading to her own room to no doubt get dressed. Alastor glances towards your bedroom, relaxing slightly. An outing did sound nice. He only got to see New Orleans at night when you had taken him to that strange sandwich place with the green interior. The fact that you thought the food there was worthy of multiple visits astounds him. You obviously didn’t know what good food was and he had been tempted since to show you. Perhaps, after the outing, he’d offer to cook tonight’s supper. Yes, that’s what he’ll do.

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor fixed his clothing. It was an outfit he adored when he was alive; a white button up, dark brown pants with suspenders attached, and black dress shoes.  Satisfied, he walks out to the living room, finding it empty. Not wanting to wrinkle his clothes, he stayed standing by the coffee table, idling himself with nails.

Your door opened first as you step out and Alastor can’t tear his eyes off you. It’s a simple outfit, nothing extraordinary about it, but on you, Alastor is captivated. The blue of your shirt makes your skin glow like the sunrise, beckoning him to come bask in its warmth. He has to still himself to keep from moving toward you as you sit on the couch.

“Sorry about this,” you say, your voice meek and shy. Your cheeks are red and you keep looking at his body. Alastor feels his smile widen, eyes lidded. How deliciously adorable.

Before he can respond to you, Veronica comes out of her room, very loudly to Alastor’s distaste. She’s wearing a more revealing outfit than you, her breasts pushed together and up. Men will no doubt be staring once she’s outside, but Alastor’s attention is already back on you, barely giving her a thought.

“Damn, Al, you don’t dress to disappoint, do ya?” Veronica comments, the nickname sounding revolting from her lips.

“Yes, well, one should always strive to look their best, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Fair,” she shrugs. Alastor’s lip twitches. “Let’s get going. I’m ready to have some fun.”

“Where are we even going?” you ask, standing up. Alastor once again has to still himself, the urge to stand next to you pulling at his core.

Veronica garbs her wallet and tosses you your keys. You’re caught off guard and attempt to catch them, but they slip past your fingers. Alastor reaches out swiftly and grabs them. “Here you go,” he says, watching you take them, the blush from before returning. He chuckles and watches it deepen as you dip away from him, following after Veronica. He straightens up and trails after you, holding the front door open for you to pass through. Veronica is already waiting outside in the hall.

“I figured we could go to Bourbon Street. I haven’t been in a while and it’s got lots of things for us to do there.” Alastor’s eyes widen. He remembers Bourbon Street, the nightlife of New Orleans back in his day, littered with speakeasies and jazz clubs. It wasn’t exactly what he imagined when invited to ‘hang out’. Waiting for Veronica to get a few steps ahead, he lowers himself to reach your ear.

“Is this the same Bourbon Street in the French Quarter?” he whispers, nearly laughing when you jump at his voice. Your face has been a constant red this entire time and he finds the color becoming his favorite all over again.

“Yeah, you know it?” she asks, her voice low to keep Veronica from hearing. He glances at the black haired girl before answering.

“Darling, I was the highlight of it,” he teases. “Though I doubt it’s still the same scandalous street I once knew it to be.”

“What do you mean by scandalous?” she asks but Alastor straightens back up just as he sees Veronica turn toward them. She’s standing by your car now, waiting. Alastor is quick to walk around to the driver’s side and hold open the door as you step in. You thank him, hiding from his gaze as he shuts the door. Veronica waits by hers for him to do the same, but Alastor simply hops into the back. He chuckles low when Veronica huffs with a frown and gets in, fascinating her seatbelt.

The drive to the French Quarter isn’t long and Alastor feels nostalgic watching the newer parts of New Orleans bleed into the city he once called home. It both shocked him and made him proud to see some parts of her never changing despite how big she’d gotten. Since his death, it seemed New Orleans doubled in size, gaining attraction for its historical beauty. It kind of irked him knowing his era was only a fad, a quick interest to younger folks nowadays. They knew more of it than he did, getting to see the evolution through time.

Ignoring the annoyance, he chose to look at you as you drove. Your attention was hard focused on the road, your eyes checking the mirrors and streets every so often. When you caught him looking in the rear view mirror, your eyes would widen slightly and blush. Alastor was becoming addicted to that look on you. He wanted to see more. Too bad it wasn’t just the two of you right now, he thought to himself. He looks away from you. Too bad? Was he disappointed he wasn’t alone with you? Veronica had said this was for your sake, a chance to get you out of the house. He understand that, knowing how important it was to change scenery when things were becoming stale, but why did he want to be alone with you?

This was becoming absurd. Ever since you summoned him up him, things have been different and new. You were suppose to have made your wish by now. Most humans he’d heard of usually did. The demons he heard talk about being summoned would boast about how easy it had been to get the human to wish, especially when told they could be granted anything. Humans were easily entertained and were greedy, wanting nothing but money, fame, or sex. Yet you were different. You wanted nothing, it seemed, even going as far as to asking if you could use your wish for another. Such a selfless act, it had Alastor baffled. He assumed it was then that you caught his attention, wiggling your way into his thoughts. Yes, all you were to him was a fascination, a curious mortal he wanted to know more about. That’s all. 

“Woo, we’re here!” Veronica shouts, breaking his train of thought. Alastor looks up to see her climbing out the car, you as well and so he follows. Looking around, he’s once again surprised at just how much hasn’t changed. His smile grows.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

“It’s like I’ve never left,” Alastor answers, smiling down at you. You don’t seem to notice but your small hands grab his arm, interlocking as you wait by his side. His chest swells and he feels heat itching his nose. “Shall we, my dear?” You giggle, a heavenly sound to his ears, and nod your head. He begins to walk, following Veronica who is already heading down the street into a bustling crowd. It’s definitely more crowded than he remembers.

“I bet these shops weren’t here,” you say. Alastor agrees, looking at all the colorful signs lining the buildings you pass.

“The buildings were, but - oh!” Alastor points to a small shop with an antique sign. “That one is still the same.” You look to where he’s pointing and laugh.

“A dentist? Really?”

“Well, the dentist himself may be long since parted, but the shop itself was around, yes,” he tells you.

“This is so weird,” you comment and Alastor tilts his head.

“How so?”

“I mean, I’ve lived here my whole life practically. I’ve seen these streets hundreds of times, but, walking with you, it’s like seeing them again for the first time.” Your eyes light up as you talk, leaning into him slightly. “You have access to a history I would’ve never been able to know had I not met you. It’s nice, being with you.” Alastor feels something in his stomach stir, something moving around. It’s a strange feeling and he doesn’t like it. Perhaps he’s just hungry.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says. He looks around for your roommate, the other woman long since disappeared. He wants to find something to eat, but doesn’t want to be rude. Then again, if she was doing her own thing, that meant it was just you and him. How nice that sounded, you and him. “Are you hungry, my dear?” You look relieved that he asked.

“Starving. I haven’t ate breakfast yet,” you admit. Alastor hums, searching for a decent spot to pick. There are plenty of restaurants to choose from, some small while others seem to take up a whole block. Some have awfully bright colors and he decides to stay away, not wanting to eat at a place with a giant, yellow M fixated above its doors.

“How about that one?” you ask. You’re pointing at a bistro tucked away in the middle of two larger businesses. There’s barely a soul inside. It’s perfect.

Alastor happily leads you to it, opening the door for you like the gentleman he was raised to be. He finds it unpleasant that you’ve had to deal with men incapable of even this much, wondering just how many have attempted to court you and failed. It would be such a pleasant sight to watch them perish at his hand, watching as they realize with fearful eyes that they never stood a chance with you. He bites his inner cheek to keep his smile from growing sinister, feeling bloodlust crawling through.

“Welcome to The Little Easy! Table for two?" a middle aged woman asks, approaching the two of you with menus. You nod and together, the waitress leads you to an open table. Alastor pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before he does. The woman chuckles. "I haven't seen manners like that since my husband was alive!"

"Your husband sounds like a gentleman, then," Alastor comments.

"Oh, he was. A dying breed today, I'm afraid." Again, that statement angers Alastor. Has the world of men truly fell so far after his passing? "What can I get you folks started with?"

"Um," you look at the menu provided, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. He wants to bite it. Wait, what? Alastor quickly looks down, jaw aching. He wants to bite, to maim, to eat. His mouth waters. Hopefully there is something appetizing here, for his sake.

"Can I get the pulled pork po-boy, a side of fries, and a glass of water?" you ask and Alastor perks up. He checks the menu and sure enough, there's a list of famous pressed po-boys. Excitement fills him. He hasn't eaten a po-boy since he was alive, a delicacy that had just recently caught on before his death.

"Sure can, honey, and what about you?" the waitress asks.

"I'll have the roast beef debris, swiss cheese, thank you." She nods and takes the menus.

"And to drink?"

"Water, as well."

"Coming right up!" The waitress leaves and Alastor glances over to you. You're fiddling your thumbs on the table, obviously trying to avoid looking at him. He chuckles, making you look up now.

"What?" you ask.

"I was just surprised, is all," he answers. You tilt your head, nose scrunching up. It reminds him of a rabbit. "Po-boys were a classic in my time. I'm surprised they're still around." You smile, nodding.

"They're still a classic," you state, folding your arms on the table and leaning forward. He forces himself to stay locked on your face, ignoring the way the collar of your shirt dips down. "New Orleans is famous for it's shrimp, jambalaya, po-boys, and voodoo. At least, to tourists, it is."

"And what do you find it famous for?" Alastor asks.

"Well, as silly as it sounds, I kind of like it for the bayous," you admit, blushing slightly. Whether from him or embarrassment, he's unsure. "Most people look at them and think, ew, muddy waters and alligators. I look at them and think -"

"Beautiful."

You look back up at him and smile. "Yeah, beautiful. The moss covered cypresses, the way the sunlight dances on the waters, it's captivating. I love them." Alastor nods, knowing the feeling.

"The bayous were also an admiration of mine when I was alive," Alastor says, watching how you lean closer to listen, enthralled. "They weren't exactly a playground back then, people often warning not to go in unless you sought the workings of a voodoo witch. Yet I found them peaceful, using them to take quiet walks whenever the city became too much."

"I get that," you comment and he knows you're telling the truth. He can see it in your eyes, that you've dealt with some hardships in life. He wants to take those away, to never let you be burdened by anything ever again. That terrifies him.

"Here's your drinks," the waitress announces, setting down the red plastic cups in the middle of the table. "I'll be right back with your plates." She's gone again and your quick to grab your water, gulping some down to ease your nerves, he assumes. Alastor takes a sip from his.

"I should probably text Veronica," you say, taking out your phone. "I totally forgot about her for moment." As you mess with the annoying hand held thing, Alastor can't help but feel a bit proud. He had caused you to forget about her, your focus only on him. It made him strangely happy.

Happy.

No. What was he doing, acting like some school boy? He was a powerful Overlord, for Hell's sake. A wretched demon who tore apart any who defied him, devouring them and basking in their screams. He sent fear shivering down the spines of all who unluckily crossed his path. To you, he would - he… He sighs inwardly.

Who was he kidding? Whatever it was you were doing to him, no matter how much it angered him with the way his dead heart felt, he wasn't going to stop it. Alastor had already decided, soul or not, that you were his.

Now he just needed you to make the wish, so that you could never escape him, even in death.

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf

Phew! So long, again, so sorry, but hope you dear readers enjoyed! Comment below to get added to the taglist and, as always, see you all in the next chapter!

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 7

SURPRISE!!!!!! It's another chapter! What? So soon! You betcha! The last chapter had me in a chokehold and I just couldn't. Stop. Writing. So here's chapter seven, lengthy af. Like... it's longer than all the others. I'm so sorry, but it's necessary, I promise! Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of blood, death, violence, Alastor being Alastor Word Count: 3,477 … what have I done XD (Link to the Ao3 posting just in case you wanna read it there and not here!)

“Maybe it’s about a subscription,” Veronica says as you pace back and forth in your room. “You know, letting you know a free trial is up?” You shake your head. You knew what the text was as soon as you saw it. It had woken you up from such a wonderful dream, your mind reeling when those seven letters glared at you. You had laid there, waiting for hours, until you heard Veronica leave her room in the morning before dragging her into yours.

“It’s him, I know it,” you seethe, trying to stay calm. You’re unsure how he even got your number, but if he had that much, then he knew everything. Where you lived, where you worked, who you were in contact with. Veronica. You glance towards her, guilt rising in your chest. She was only aware of the basics of your past fuck up, barely scratching the surface of the shit pile that laid beneath. He could hurt her, no. He would hurt her. Just to get to you.

“Ok, so your crazy ex has your number, no big deal! Just block him.” Veronica grabs your phone, tapping the number of the message. It disappears. “See? Gone.”

“It’s not that simple,” you say, sitting on your bed, placing your head in your hands. “He’s a creep, a level ten stalker. He’ll stop at nothing to find me. Again.” You flinch as you remember everything. He had been such a smooth talker, charming his way into your heart with empty promises. It was a high school love, a dream come true. The unpopular girl getting the prom king type story. After graduation, when the two of you moved north,  that dream turned sour. His true colors slowly showed themselves as he took his anger out on you, the marks on your lower back and upper thighs evidence to that. You managed to run away, to leave him but not for long. Within a few months, he had found you and the treatment was worse. You thought you were going to die, at the hands of that merciless pig.

How you managed to escape the second time, you were unsure. Call it the will of the Divine, but you did escape. You had returned home, scared and always looking over your shoulder. It took Veronica nearly a year just to get you to go anywhere. She thought it was just cause your ex was an asshole. She didn’t know how his hands had been wrapped around your throat, how he sneered at your face turning blue, or how he laughed when you coughed in attempt to regain your breath. He was a monster and now he had found you.

“Girlie, ain’t nothing going to happen,” Veronica says, bringing you back to the present. You don’t mean to flinch when she reaches for you and she pulls away. You apologize but she shakes her head. “Not in this house. There ain’t nothing to say sorry for, ok? You got me here, and even Alastor! He sure as hell will protect ya!”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t see how he looks at you?” You gawk at her, eyes wide. “Figured you didn’t. You’re blind as a bat, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask in disbelief.

“Girlie, that man has looked at you with hearts in his eyes since he showed up. He is hooked.”

You bark out a laugh, bewildered by her statement. “Veronica, I’ve only known him for, what, two days? Three? We barely know each other!”

“Time has nothing to do with love, honey. It can show up and bite you on the butt whenever it wants to.”

“No,” you deny, shaking your head. “It’s impossible.” Not to mention, he’s a demon. You’re pretty sure love is an emotion demons can’t feel, whether they were human before or not. Right? You stand and walk to the foot of your bed, crossing your arms.

“Any why is it impossible, hm?” Veronica follows, stepping in front of you with her hands on her hips. “For the past five years, I’ve been trying to get you set up with someone. I’ve been patient cause I figure it’s hard getting over shitty exes, but girlie, I’m tired of seeing you feel bad for yourself.” You look away from her gaze, guilt rising in your throat. “It’s about time you let someone love you.”

“I can’t.” Your arms drop to your side. “I’m not…”

“What? Worthy?” Veronica looks at you angrily. “You’re worth far more than you think. I see it.” She tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “And he does, too. Give him a chance.”

“Veronica,” you sigh. “He doesn’t like me.” He can’t, you think. He’s only here because you summoned him.

“Alright, that’s it!” You startle when Veronica claps her hands. She walks to your closet and starts yanking out clothes, throwing them right and left.

“What are you doing?”

“Picking an outfit for you,” she answers, spending a second to look at a pink shirt before tossing it, too.

“Why?”

“We’re going out, that’s why!” She stops finally on one of your nicer, pastel blue shirts. It’s cropped with a white daisy printed on the back. She pairs it with some blue jeans shorts and shoves them into your arms. “Put this on. I’m going to go tell Alastor.”

“Wait, what if he’s asleep?” you ask, trying to stop her without dropping your clothes.

“It’s nearly noon, girlie, I’m sure he’s awake. Now hurry up!” She’s out the door before you can protest, leaving you to stand alone the middle of your room. You sigh and drop the clothes onto your bed, knowing there wasn’t any way you were getting out of this.

 —

Alastor quirks a brow when it’s the black haired woman at his door and not you, taking a second to applaud himself for answering with his human disguise. “May I help you?” he asks, making sure not to sound annoyed.

“Wear something comfortable, we’re going out.”

“Beg your pardon?” Alastor’s grip on his door tightens. Veronica looks at him with a smile.

“Not like that, ya goof,” she explains. “Me, you, and girlie are going out for today. She needs it.” Veronica leaves him after, heading to her own room to no doubt get dressed. Alastor glances towards your bedroom, relaxing slightly. An outing did sound nice. He only got to see New Orleans at night when you had taken him to that strange sandwich place with the green interior. The fact that you thought the food there was worthy of multiple visits astounds him. You obviously didn’t know what good food was and he had been tempted since to show you. Perhaps, after the outing, he’d offer to cook tonight’s supper. Yes, that’s what he’ll do.

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor fixed his clothing. It was an outfit he adored when he was alive; a white button up, dark brown pants with suspenders attached, and black dress shoes.  Satisfied, he walks out to the living room, finding it empty. Not wanting to wrinkle his clothes, he stayed standing by the coffee table, idling himself with nails.

Your door opened first as you step out and Alastor can’t tear his eyes off you. It’s a simple outfit, nothing extraordinary about it, but on you, Alastor is captivated. The blue of your shirt makes your skin glow like the sunrise, beckoning him to come bask in its warmth. He has to still himself to keep from moving toward you as you sit on the couch.

“Sorry about this,” you say, your voice meek and shy. Your cheeks are red and you keep looking at his body. Alastor feels his smile widen, eyes lidded. How deliciously adorable.

Before he can respond to you, Veronica comes out of her room, very loudly to Alastor’s distaste. She’s wearing a more revealing outfit than you, her breasts pushed together and up. Men will no doubt be staring once she’s outside, but Alastor’s attention is already back on you, barely giving her a thought.

“Damn, Al, you don’t dress to disappoint, do ya?” Veronica comments, the nickname sounding revolting from her lips.

“Yes, well, one should always strive to look their best, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Fair,” she shrugs. Alastor’s lip twitches. “Let’s get going. I’m ready to have some fun.”

“Where are we even going?” you ask, standing up. Alastor once again has to still himself, the urge to stand next to you pulling at his core.

Veronica garbs her wallet and tosses you your keys. You’re caught off guard and attempt to catch them, but they slip past your fingers. Alastor reaches out swiftly and grabs them. “Here you go,” he says, watching you take them, the blush from before returning. He chuckles and watches it deepen as you dip away from him, following after Veronica. He straightens up and trails after you, holding the front door open for you to pass through. Veronica is already waiting outside in the hall.

“I figured we could go to Bourbon Street. I haven’t been in a while and it’s got lots of things for us to do there.” Alastor’s eyes widen. He remembers Bourbon Street, the nightlife of New Orleans back in his day, littered with speakeasies and jazz clubs. It wasn’t exactly what he imagined when invited to ‘hang out’. Waiting for Veronica to get a few steps ahead, he lowers himself to reach your ear.

“Is this the same Bourbon Street in the French Quarter?” he whispers, nearly laughing when you jump at his voice. Your face has been a constant red this entire time and he finds the color becoming his favorite all over again.

“Yeah, you know it?” she asks, her voice low to keep Veronica from hearing. He glances at the black haired girl before answering.

“Darling, I was the highlight of it,” he teases. “Though I doubt it’s still the same scandalous street I once knew it to be.”

“What do you mean by scandalous?” she asks but Alastor straightens back up just as he sees Veronica turn toward them. She’s standing by your car now, waiting. Alastor is quick to walk around to the driver’s side and hold open the door as you step in. You thank him, hiding from his gaze as he shuts the door. Veronica waits by hers for him to do the same, but Alastor simply hops into the back. He chuckles low when Veronica huffs with a frown and gets in, fascinating her seatbelt.

The drive to the French Quarter isn’t long and Alastor feels nostalgic watching the newer parts of New Orleans bleed into the city he once called home. It both shocked him and made him proud to see some parts of her never changing despite how big she’d gotten. Since his death, it seemed New Orleans doubled in size, gaining attraction for its historical beauty. It kind of irked him knowing his era was only a fad, a quick interest to younger folks nowadays. They knew more of it than he did, getting to see the evolution through time.

Ignoring the annoyance, he chose to look at you as you drove. Your attention was hard focused on the road, your eyes checking the mirrors and streets every so often. When you caught him looking in the rear view mirror, your eyes would widen slightly and blush. Alastor was becoming addicted to that look on you. He wanted to see more. Too bad it wasn’t just the two of you right now, he thought to himself. He looks away from you. Too bad? Was he disappointed he wasn’t alone with you? Veronica had said this was for your sake, a chance to get you out of the house. He understand that, knowing how important it was to change scenery when things were becoming stale, but why did he want to be alone with you?

This was becoming absurd. Ever since you summoned him up him, things have been different and new. You were suppose to have made your wish by now. Most humans he’d heard of usually did. The demons he heard talk about being summoned would boast about how easy it had been to get the human to wish, especially when told they could be granted anything. Humans were easily entertained and were greedy, wanting nothing but money, fame, or sex. Yet you were different. You wanted nothing, it seemed, even going as far as to asking if you could use your wish for another. Such a selfless act, it had Alastor baffled. He assumed it was then that you caught his attention, wiggling your way into his thoughts. Yes, all you were to him was a fascination, a curious mortal he wanted to know more about. That’s all. 

“Woo, we’re here!” Veronica shouts, breaking his train of thought. Alastor looks up to see her climbing out the car, you as well and so he follows. Looking around, he’s once again surprised at just how much hasn’t changed. His smile grows.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

“It’s like I’ve never left,” Alastor answers, smiling down at you. You don’t seem to notice but your small hands grab his arm, interlocking as you wait by his side. His chest swells and he feels heat itching his nose. “Shall we, my dear?” You giggle, a heavenly sound to his ears, and nod your head. He begins to walk, following Veronica who is already heading down the street into a bustling crowd. It’s definitely more crowded than he remembers.

“I bet these shops weren’t here,” you say. Alastor agrees, looking at all the colorful signs lining the buildings you pass.

“The buildings were, but - oh!” Alastor points to a small shop with an antique sign. “That one is still the same.” You look to where he’s pointing and laugh.

“A dentist? Really?”

“Well, the dentist himself may be long since parted, but the shop itself was around, yes,” he tells you.

“This is so weird,” you comment and Alastor tilts his head.

“How so?”

“I mean, I’ve lived here my whole life practically. I’ve seen these streets hundreds of times, but, walking with you, it’s like seeing them again for the first time.” Your eyes light up as you talk, leaning into him slightly. “You have access to a history I would’ve never been able to know had I not met you. It’s nice, being with you.” Alastor feels something in his stomach stir, something moving around. It’s a strange feeling and he doesn’t like it. Perhaps he’s just hungry.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says. He looks around for your roommate, the other woman long since disappeared. He wants to find something to eat, but doesn’t want to be rude. Then again, if she was doing her own thing, that meant it was just you and him. How nice that sounded, you and him. “Are you hungry, my dear?” You look relieved that he asked.

“Starving. I haven’t ate breakfast yet,” you admit. Alastor hums, searching for a decent spot to pick. There are plenty of restaurants to choose from, some small while others seem to take up a whole block. Some have awfully bright colors and he decides to stay away, not wanting to eat at a place with a giant, yellow M fixated above its doors.

“How about that one?” you ask. You’re pointing at a bistro tucked away in the middle of two larger businesses. There’s barely a soul inside. It’s perfect.

Alastor happily leads you to it, opening the door for you like the gentleman he was raised to be. He finds it unpleasant that you’ve had to deal with men incapable of even this much, wondering just how many have attempted to court you and failed. It would be such a pleasant sight to watch them perish at his hand, watching as they realize with fearful eyes that they never stood a chance with you. He bites his inner cheek to keep his smile from growing sinister, feeling bloodlust crawling through.

“Welcome to The Little Easy! Table for two?" a middle aged woman asks, approaching the two of you with menus. You nod and together, the waitress leads you to an open table. Alastor pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before he does. The woman chuckles. "I haven't seen manners like that since my husband was alive!"

"Your husband sounds like a gentleman, then," Alastor comments.

"Oh, he was. A dying breed today, I'm afraid." Again, that statement angers Alastor. Has the world of men truly fell so far after his passing? "What can I get you folks started with?"

"Um," you look at the menu provided, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. He wants to bite it. Wait, what? Alastor quickly looks down, jaw aching. He wants to bite, to maim, to eat. His mouth waters. Hopefully there is something appetizing here, for his sake.

"Can I get the pulled pork po-boy, a side of fries, and a glass of water?" you ask and Alastor perks up. He checks the menu and sure enough, there's a list of famous pressed po-boys. Excitement fills him. He hasn't eaten a po-boy since he was alive, a delicacy that had just recently caught on before his death.

"Sure can, honey, and what about you?" the waitress asks.

"I'll have the roast beef debris, swiss cheese, thank you." She nods and takes the menus.

"And to drink?"

"Water, as well."

"Coming right up!" The waitress leaves and Alastor glances over to you. You're fiddling your thumbs on the table, obviously trying to avoid looking at him. He chuckles, making you look up now.

"What?" you ask.

"I was just surprised, is all," he answers. You tilt your head, nose scrunching up. It reminds him of a rabbit. "Po-boys were a classic in my time. I'm surprised they're still around." You smile, nodding.

"They're still a classic," you state, folding your arms on the table and leaning forward. He forces himself to stay locked on your face, ignoring the way the collar of your shirt dips down. "New Orleans is famous for it's shrimp, jambalaya, po-boys, and voodoo. At least, to tourists, it is."

"And what do you find it famous for?" Alastor asks.

"Well, as silly as it sounds, I kind of like it for the bayous," you admit, blushing slightly. Whether from him or embarrassment, he's unsure. "Most people look at them and think, ew, muddy waters and alligators. I look at them and think -"

"Beautiful."

You look back up at him and smile. "Yeah, beautiful. The moss covered cypresses, the way the sunlight dances on the waters, it's captivating. I love them." Alastor nods, knowing the feeling.

"The bayous were also an admiration of mine when I was alive," Alastor says, watching how you lean closer to listen, enthralled. "They weren't exactly a playground back then, people often warning not to go in unless you sought the workings of a voodoo witch. Yet I found them peaceful, using them to take quiet walks whenever the city became too much."

"I get that," you comment and he knows you're telling the truth. He can see it in your eyes, that you've dealt with some hardships in life. He wants to take those away, to never let you be burdened by anything ever again. That terrifies him.

"Here's your drinks," the waitress announces, setting down the red plastic cups in the middle of the table. "I'll be right back with your plates." She's gone again and your quick to grab your water, gulping some down to ease your nerves, he assumes. Alastor takes a sip from his.

"I should probably text Veronica," you say, taking out your phone. "I totally forgot about her for moment." As you mess with the annoying hand held thing, Alastor can't help but feel a bit proud. He had caused you to forget about her, your focus only on him. It made him strangely happy.

Happy.

No. What was he doing, acting like some school boy? He was a powerful Overlord, for Hell's sake. A wretched demon who tore apart any who defied him, devouring them and basking in their screams. He sent fear shivering down the spines of all who unluckily crossed his path. To you, he would - he… He sighs inwardly.

Who was he kidding? Whatever it was you were doing to him, no matter how much it angered him with the way his dead heart felt, he wasn't going to stop it. Alastor had already decided, soul or not, that you were his.

Now he just needed you to make the wish, so that you could never escape him, even in death.

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf

Phew! So long, again, so sorry, but hope you dear readers enjoyed! Comment below to get added to the taglist and, as always, see you all in the next chapter!

Masterlist , Ao3

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 6

Oh, oh, oh! I'm so excited for you guys to read this chapter. I'm not saying anything cause ooooh the plot thickens. Would you all be surprised if I said I didn't actually have an actual plot laid out until I started writing this chapter? 👀 Woops! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!! Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warning: slight mentions of m/r/d/r but like not really? blood, there's mentions of blood

"Veronica?"

Your voice echoes in the darkness, no response.

"Alastor?"

Nothing.

There is nothing around you; just a void as you stand in the center. You have no idea the direction you face, if you're up or down, but you don't feel afraid. You just feel utterly alone.

"You shouldn't be here."

Now you feel fear, gripping your throat tight. You can't breathe.

"Death has no use for you…yet."

Scream. You have to scream. You need to escape. You need to wake up.

Wait…

Wake up?

"Wake up!"

You bolt up in your bed, panting heavily. Your skin is cold and wet, your limbs trapped as you kick them free of the blanket. You frantically search around, looking for anything recognizable before your eyes capture a face. You snap to it, needing it as your mind hurries to decipher who it is.

"Veronica," you choke out, voice broken and laced with tears you didn't know where spilling. Her eyes are wide and it's now that you feel her hands cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at her.

"Girlie, what happened? You were screaming something awful just a second ago," she says, but her words feel foreign. Everything feels so foreign and distant like you're not here. You shake your head slowly.

"I -," you try to say something, to explain what was wrong but even you don't know. You try to remember what happened, but it's fading from your memory. Why were you screaming? Why were you scared? Your heart was pounding in your chest as if you had just ran a marathon. You raise a hand to rub at your sternum. "Where's Alastor?"

You hear Veronica huff.  "Asleep, which is surprising considering how loud you were." Asleep. No, that was wrong. Your eyes search your bedroom, being drawn to a corner. You see a glimpse of red before it's gone.

"Right, I'm sorry," you apologize.

"No need. Just worried, is all," she says, bringing a hand to your back to rub soothing circles as she sits next to you. She had been knelt on the floor this whole time and you wonder how long it took to stir you awake. Everything felt fuzzy and the fear was still there, little remnants clinging to your skin. You felt sticky and gross now that you were aware of it.

"Do you remember what you were dreaming about?" Veronica asks softly.

"No." You gently shrug off her hand, moving to stand from your bed. "I-I'm ok, really. I think I'll take a shower, though."

"Good idea," she nods. "If you need me, though, you know where to find me." She gives you a reassuring smile and leaves. When your door is shut, you sigh.

"I know you're there. You can come out," you speak to the shadows in your room. Nothing happens for a second and you wonder if you were wrong, but then in the corner where you saw it, the shadows ripple.

Alastor steps out but the shadows stay on him, like a cloak. All you can see are his eyes, red orbs glowing from the depths. You turn fully to face him, arms wrapping around yourself. He doesn't move, but watches you closely. It should be unnerving but you're finding comfort in it. "Thought you were asleep," you try to say with a smile, but it barely shows. Alastor chuckles.

"As far as she knows, I am."

"This," you bite your lip, a bit embarrassed to ask but you need to know, "this wasn't your doing, was it?" Now the shadows move away from him and Alastor steps forward. Through his smile, you swear you see him frown.

"My dear, if I were the cause of that nightmare, you would not be awake right now," he states, bringing terrifying thoughts to mind. If it wasn't him, then it must've been… You hear a whimper and jump slightly before realizing it was your own. Alastor moves before you can see him and now he's in front of you, long arms wrapped around you to bring you closer. Your head hits his chest softly, warmth surrounding you. It's strange, not normal. A demon shouldn't be comforting you right now. A demon should be scaring you, attacking you, devouring your soul. A demon should not be…

"Shh, everything is alright now, darling. Just breathe," Alastor whispers, his voice so calm as sobs tear through your body. You don't know how or why, but you're crying and hard against Alastor as he holds you. You can feel it, though, years of built of emotions pouring from you. It's enough to make your knees weak, your body wanting to fall but Alastor holds you tight. You cling to him, your small hands creasing his coat.

Small. You felt so small against him, his large frame towering yours. He would be a wonderful protector, you think, guarding you from whatever horrors tried to come near you.

No.

He could save you from anything, you think, body relaxing against him. You shift your hands from his coat to his back, holding tightly. You could stay like this forever, in his protective embrace.

NO.

No. You can't. You shouldn't. Your human and he's a demon. This is wrong.

You start to pull back and Alastor relents, letting you go. You wipe the tears that start to dry on your cheeks, the reminder of your clammy skin getting to you. You really need that shower now.

"Sorry," you mumble to him, not wanting to meet his gaze as you walk over to your closet, pulling out spare pair of pajamas. You manage a glance his way as you stand at the door for a moment, wanting to say something else. You want to thank him but don't, shutting your door as you head to the bathroom.

You're grateful he has the decency not to follow you, but you find yourself locking the bathroom door anyways. It gave you a sense of security as you strip, dropping the damp clothes to the side. You sigh as you turn on the water, letting it warm up.

The nightmare, or the fear you felt when you woke, slowly comes back. You shiver and blame the cold air around your naked form, sticking your hand under the faucet. Stupid, you think to yourself. You haven't had a nightmare like that in years and, what's worse, you had clung to Alastor like he was a lifeline. A demon, you remind yourself. He's a demon, for God's sake, why weren't you more afraid?

You should be afraid.

Yeah. You should.

He is evil.

Yeah, he's…no. You rub at your face, confusion setting in. There's a fog in your mind, disorienting you.

He is evil.

Alastor comforted you, when he didn't have to. He was there, had been there the whole time, you realize. He was in the shadows, watching over you and when Veronica woke you up, he was there. He had held you, helped you calm down, let you cry into his chest. That wasn't evil.

Anger formed suddenly in your chest.

Demons are evil.

Demons were evil, you thought. Movies and books you've read reminded you of that. Hell, even the Bible states it as fact. They were evil creatures hellbent on destroying creation itself, to taint and disease the world. To tarnish the light and bring about sin and darkness. You couldn't trust such a creature.

Yet, Alastor… What was Alastor then?

Demon. Filth. Evil.

"No," you say out loud, shaking your head and forcing the thoughts away. Why were you thinking this way? God, maybe that nightmare got to you more than you thought.  

Stretching your body, you checked the water again. Satisfied with the temperature, you step in and let the water wash away the stress in your muscles. You let out a heavy breath, humming as the heat relaxed you further. The beads rolling down your back to the tub below felt therapeutic as you enjoyed the shower, the nightmare washing down the drain.

By the time you finished your shower, it was four in the morning. You weren't going back to sleep any time soon so you decide to head to the kitchen. Your favorite mug is brought out as you turn on the coffee maker. Caffeine was calling you and you'd be a fool not to answer. As the hot liquid filled your core, you hum delighted and head towards the living room. Your caught off guard to see Alastor sitting there, greeting you.

"Um, hi," you say, awkwardness creeping in. Oh god, you had forgotten what transpired earlier, hoping he would've been in his room when you came out. Now you're having to face him. Better get it over with. "Thank you, by the way. F-For that." You gulp, nervously playing with your mug, fingers tracing the design etched into its side.

"No thanks needed, my dear," Alastor replied. His voice was lower than usual, no doubt being quiet with Veronica still asleep. You note to do the same.

"Still, that was," you trail off, sitting down beside him.

"Embarrassing? Uncomfortable? Awkward?" Alastor's smile never changed as he threw the words at you. You squint at him.

"Yes, ok? I'm not used to doing that in front of others," you mumble, leaning back into the couch, bringing your legs up. You grip your mug tightly, taking a sip.

"Doing what?"

Your squint turns into a glare. "You know."

"Afraid not, my dear." That smile is now a grin, you're sure of it. Is he doing this on purpose? You groan in frustration, voice coming out louder than intended.

"Crying, alright? I'm not used to crying like that in front of people. Makes me feel -"

"Weak?" Alastor interrupts you. You slowly nod, hating the way your eyes prick with tears. You won't cry again. You won't. "Everyone is weak sometimes." That was unexpected. You look up at him, watching his features soften just a bit. His arm comes to drape over the back of the couch and you remember the warmth you felt from them. Your cheeks grow hot.

"You don't seem weak," you say, focusing back in on your mug. Alastor chuckles and you swear you can feel it vibrate through you.

"Strengths and weaknesses are the main elements of our characters." Your eyes are drawn back to him as he continues, "While it's dumb to think you are fault free, it's also harmful to see yourself worthless."

"Alastor," you find yourself lost for words. "That was…beautiful." His smile tightens, strained even. He looks away, clearing his throat. His arm disappears from behind you and you feel cold again.

"Well, my dear. I suggest you try and get some rest. A tired mind can't think of a wish now, can it?" You frown.

"Right," you say, jaw tight. You stand from the couch, barking a good night to Alastor as you head into your bedroom. You fall to your bed, mug placed on your nightstand, the contents now cold and bitter. Just like how you felt. You're an idiot.

Such a stupid, stupid idiot…and so was your heart.

__

Alastor watched you leave to your room, your door slamming shut quite loudly. He's surprised your roommate doesn't poke out, curious to the noise. Your angry now and he's lost as to why. Mortals were complexing, their emotions running rampant it seems. One minute, you were laughing or smiling, the next you were crying and, now, you were mad. At him? He couldn't figure out why.

If anything, he thought he had calmed you down, brought you back to a sense of stability. He only did so because your tears were annoying him. Why did mortals cry so much? It never bothered him before, when he used to be alive. In fact, he never even cried once, save for when his mother passed. When his victims used to cry, beg for their lives, he found thrill in it. It made his body quiver with passion when those tears mixed with the blood that spilled from them. Yet when he saw your tears, those round eyes of yours filled with pain and fear, he couldn't even bear the smile stretching his lips. He wanted to kill whatever thing made you produce such a face.

That bothered him, greatly. He shouldn't be so affected by a mortal, by you. You were a deal, a contract. He just wanted your soul, nothing more.

Glancing towards your bedroom door, Alastor shifted into the shadows. There was no hesitation, no thought behind it as he appeared in the corner of your room. To his luck, you were fast asleep, on top of your covers. Even in sleep, you were mad, your brows bunched together with your lips pursed down. How amusing.

He steps closer, watching you closely. He took note of you, the way your hair fanned out behind you, spilling over the pillows. Your hands were near your face, fingers twitching slightly. You had one leg stretched out while the other was bent, knee tucked up, forcing you to lay half way on your stomach. You were twisted in such a way that he doubt was comfortable, but you didn't seem to mind. How curious.

When his knees bumped the bed, you stirred only slightly, breaking him from his trance. He let out breath he didn’t know he held as you relax, still asleep. His smile begins to hurt his cheeks. Who were you, to cause such unwanted responses in him? He should leave, let you rest, but he's stuck, unable to move. He should focus on the task at hand, get you to make your wish, but his eyes never leave your face. He should…he should…

He sits down gently onto your bed, next to you, a hand coming to move a strand of hair that found its way onto your cheek.

He should end this quickly, he thinks. There are things in hell waiting for him, things far more important than one human soul is worth.

An annoying sound pierces the air, bright light casting away the darkness that was around him. He retreats to the shadows, leaving you room as you reach for your phone on your nightstand.

He doesn't see the way your eyes widen as you read the notification.

'Time's up.'

AN: and whew, there you have it! I was nervous writing this one. Like I said, the plot kind of finally came to me so I apologize, but things are picking up now!

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024

If you wanna be added to the taglist, just comment below!

Masterlist , Ao3

As always, thank you for reading, my dear readers! See you next chapter!

*Edit, quote: “Strengths and weaknesses are the main elements of our characters. While it's dumb to think you are fault free, it's also harmful to see yourself worthless.” ― Asmaa Dokmak