#alastor is in hell for a reason

[artemisgrayy]

The Hazbin Hotel fandom trying to figure out Alastor's true intentions

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✨ Masterlist ✨

[tayraedoll]

Radio Daddy

My entry for @6esiree contest! I hope you enjoy this little story!

18+ MDNI

This is my take on what the dynamic between Alastor and a Gen Z radio host would be like. A little bit of rivalry, a little bit of sexual tension, and a lot of attitude.

Word count: 2979

TW: Smut, P in V Intercourse, Oral (male receiving), Rough s3x, soul deals, swearing, Alastor is a bit mean, but reader likes it

"...and that is why Hell would be better off as a matriarchy", you spoke into your mic. It had been a long four hours of broadcasting, you were exhausted and definitely looking forward to dinner by this point. But you also loved the studio, the freedom of creating your own show and speaking your mind, and the power to sway the masses that listened.

"Don't forget- I will be DJing at the Hazbin Hotel Grand Re-Opening tomorrow night! It's sure to be lit so stop by and have a drink with me. Until next time, stay gucci my friends!"

You signed off and leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and taking a moment to relax. The tranquility didn't last long however, before you had a chance to take a breath you heard the telltale radio static of your boss- Alastor The Radio Demon. You sigh before opening your eyes and turning to the futon in the corner of your recording studio.

You arrived in hell 2.5 years ago after unfortunately overdosing when someone spiked your drink at a gig. When you learned that Hell only had one radio station you set out to create your own; everyone called you crazy, that the radio was the domain of the infamous Radio Demon. But at that time he had been missing for 5 years, his radio show nothing but static whispering memories of the past. So you brushed everyone off and made your own show anyways. It was an instant hit, your fan base expanded rapidly as sinners were eager to listen to a new voice in Hell's media scene. You had found your niche, your place in the despondent plane called Hell.

For two years you were the queen of radio, but you unfortunately sat atop a borrowed throne. Six months ago you were broadcasting like any other day when, after signing off, you had found yourself locked inside your own studio as the shadows of the room crawled over you. Alastor had offered you a choice- either you sign a soul contract with him and continue your show under his administration, or you cease broadcasting for the rest of your afterlife. You suppose you should count your lucky stars that he didn't just kill you, you were technically a rival after all and you had heard how he dealt with others who challenged him. His reason for letting you live was just one of the many mysteries of The Radio Demon.

Said demon now sat on your futon, back ramrod straight and legs neatly crossed and tucked underneath him. His fingers were interlaced in his lap as he smiled radiantly at you.

"Evening my little doll! Riveting performance as always! Although, I do have one note. You recall a discussion we had earlier about not using profane language while on air yes?", his smile tightened, his eyes hardening ever so slightly in annoyance.

You rest your chin in your palm and give him the most bored expression you could muster,"No one gives a shit if I swear Alastor. We are in Hell, or have you forgotten?"

Everyone else was scared shitless of this man, but he made your heart rate spike for an entirely different reason than he did for most others. Your boss was fucking HOT. You regularly pleasured yourself as you listened to his own radio show he revived upon his return, your thighs automatically clenched together at the sound of his voice. So, in retribution for him being so damn attractive, you behaved like the biggest brat. It was a victorious day if you could make his ears twitch, an almost imperceptible movement of his fluff that would be easily missed if you weren't looking so hard for it.

Your sassy remark earned you the little ear flick you were going for which made you smirk, your Overlord employer narrowing his eyes at you in warning. "I really wouldn't start with that smart mouth if I were you Darling. Need I remind you that I own your little show? Therefore, you will abide by my rules- no more profanity. This is the end of the discussion." His tone left no room for argument; as much as you liked pushing his buttons, you were not stupid and knew when to quit while you were ahead...or alive that is. You let the argument go with a scoff and a mumbled "Fine".

Alastor beamed back at you once again, his voice returning to its normal, chipper tone, "Splendid! Now on to business- I would like to hear what you have prepared for the hotel's ceremony tomorrow. This event means quite a lot to our dear Princess Morningstar and I will not let her down." You caught the underlying threat, really it was you who carried the burden of making sure you upheld his image. Your job was not just to entertain the hotel guests, but to make The Radio Demon look good as well.

Luckily for you, Charlie was huge fan of your show. She would regularly call in to talk to you about your chosen discussion topic of the day and put in song requests. Really you had known Charlie for longer than Alastor had, you knew exactly what she liked and were more than prepared to cater your services for her party. Your smile sweetened again as you logged into your playlist for the Grand Re-Opening Ceremony, "I was going for a persevering and uplifting kinda vibe, concentrating on songs that will give girl-power and fuck-the-system. Charlie is a Swiftie, so I made sure to add several of her greatest hits to the line-up like 'Shake it Off' and 'Look What You Made Me Do'." You turn your laptop around so your boss could look at the playlist you made, only to be met with him giving you a "are you dumb?" look.

"There is absolutely no way you will be bringing that ridiculous contraption into my hotel Darling", he pointed to your computer with revulsion written clearly on his face as if the laptop personally wronged him.

You bark a short, incredulous laugh, "Alastor, if I can't bring my equipment into the hotel then how exactly am I supposed to do my job?" You cross your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, waiting for him to explain his absurd rules that will only hinder your ability to make him proud.

"VoxTek cannot be trusted and is not allowed in the hotel- particularly by my very own employees! No no no no, I will provide you with everything you will need to provide top-notch entertainment to our esteemed guests", he snapped his fingers and a retro-looking record player and several record albums appeared beside your desk.

You became more and more exasperated as you rifled through the collection before you, "There isn't even anything from the last 50 years in here! As far as I'm aware, this isn't a "Roaring 20's"-themed party. If the goal is to make a good impression and get more sinners to stay at the hotel then we need to offer more than just old jazz tunes!"

The Radio Demon clutched at his chest in offense to your comment, "My Doll, no one partied harder than we did in the 20's. Jazz and speakeasies were truly the pinnacle of entertainment. I assure you that if you stick to my plan all will go just swimmingly." His voice hardened again at the end of his speech, warning you to just follow along. But you wouldn't, not when you knew you were right.

"And how many sinners from the NINETEEN-20's will be there exactly?!", your voice rose in volume with each word,"Face it, Alastor, most of the sinners there will be from more recent times. Therefore, we need to play music that ISN'T 100 years old!" You got up and started pacing your studio, completely oblivious to the growing radio static filtering off the man in red or how his antlers were starting to grow more tines. "Honestly, it's like you don't even try to connect to your audience anymore. I don't understand your complete aversion to modern technology, if you don't learn to adapt your are going to be left behind-", you stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, staring at the wall as the epiphany hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back was turned to the now irate Overlord, his claws dug into the leather of your futon to stop himself from launching at you. "That's why I'm here", you whispered, "You didn't kill me, you made me sign a soul deal so you could use me to bridge the gap between you and the younger audiences of hell. The younger generations find your show BORING."

You whip around with a triumphant smile on your face, ecstatic that you figured out the clever demon's ploy. Your face paled and the smile quickly disappeared when you took in the state of The Radio Demon. His normal crab-claw antlers now more closely resembled an elk's spread, the sclera of his eyes were jet black. The ever-present smile still adorned his face, but it now resembled a malicious grin akin to one you'd associate with The Joker. He rumbled out a low, dangerously dark chuckle that had the hair along your arms raising in goosebumps.

"Oh my Doll, you really should have learned when to quit running your mouth", he stood up and had you backed into the wall in three strides flat. "I should kill you for your insubordination, if you were anyone else you would be a mangled mess of blood and bone where you stand", his eyes bore down on you. Your heart hammered away in your chest as he lifted one hand to your face but you refused to flinch away from him, if this was how you died a second death then you would not give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. Instead of dealing you a death blow, however, he gently dragged a claw from your temple to your chin. "Luckily for you, Princess Charlie would never forgive me if you were hurt by my hands. That... and I admit that I have grown quite fond of you myself. But-", his claw dug into the point where your chin and throat met just behind your jawbone, "-there must still be punishment. What kind of Overlord would I be if I let my possessions speak to me in such a disrespectful manner?"

You opened your mouth to plead your case but were quickly shot down, "Careful Doll. I enjoy you, but be careful. In fact, perhaps it is best if you do not speak at all", he chuckled again before summoning your soul chain in his hands. The bright, radioactive green glow of the chain blinded you momentarily and before you could process what was happening you were yanked to the other side of the room. When your eyes finally focused again you were on your knees with Alastor sat on the edge of the futon in front of you.

"Now Darling, how about you show me if that smart mouth of yours is good for something other than backtalk?", he pulled the chain again and your face came just inches from his crotch. You looked up at him with wide eyes, was he really asking you to do what you thought he was asking you to do? The way his eyes narrowed and his grin widened told you that yes- he wanted you to do exactly what you were thinking.

Well, you know what they say- what The Radio Demon wants, the Radio Demon gets. With a newfound determination you steeled your resolve and ran your fingers up his thighs to his belt. Without ever breaking eye contact with him you slowly unbuckled and removed the belt before opening his trousers. His cock was only half-hard under his briefs, running a finger up the length of it made it twitch deliciously and you smirked again before you freed his length from its fabric prison.

Even at only half-mast he was of impressive length and girth, no doubt you would struggle to take all of him once he was fully hard. Your mouth watered at the thought, you glanced back up at his face and noticed how his jaw was clenched in anticipation, eyes half-lidded at he stared at your mouth.

His expression was all the confirmation you needed before you leaned forward and licked up the length of his shaft from tip to base, nose brushing against the red curls of his pubic bone. Alastor gasped sharply above you, one hand wringing your hair around it as the other hand held your leash taut.

You teased his lower head with your tongue, swirling around it tantalizingly slowly. Gently parting your lips, you take just the mushroomed part into your mouth and give a gentle suck before teasing with your tongue again. You repeat this process a few times until his cock stands at full attention. After the third suck, he lets out a growl uses his hand in your hair to force you down further on his cock, clearly tired of the teasing. A small gag escaped your throat before you forced it to relax to accommodate the sudden intrusion. With a moan you slowly pushed forward until you felt him bottom out at the back of your throat.

"That's it Doll, such a good girl", Alastor gritted out through his teeth, holding your head there for a moment. You slowly started to bob your head, lips wrapped tightly around his shaft giving a popping sound every time they passed his engorged tip. Your tongue ran along the vein on the underside of his length, the skin velvety and warm.

After several long, slow passes, the deer demon gripped your head again to still your bobbing movements with your nose buried in his curls. Without a warning, he harshly pulled back and thrusted forward again, burying himself as deep down your esophagus as he could go. You sputtered, gagging sharply and tears instantly forming in your eyes. Your hands came up to push against his thighs but the chain on your neck quickly pulled tight again to keep you from moving a centimeter off his cock.

"Nuh-uh-uh Dear, it's time you learn your lesson for talking back to your master", he pulled back again just to thrust back into your mouth with brutal force. True to his word, he set a punishing pace. You struggled to breath between his continuous assault on your throat and the saliva that pooled in your mouth, dripping down your chin in thick spouts. Tears clouded your vision, all you could do was sit there and take his punishment and try not to pass out from lack of air. Every breath you managed to take came in through a gasp and left through a gag.

"My, my Doll. What pretty noises you make, so much better than the sassy remarks you usually give me. Perhaps you deserve a reward for taking your punishment without complaint."

You were suddenly pushed back off his cock, your lungs taking full advantage of the reprieve by gulping in as much air as they could. Clawed hands gripped your elbows as strong arms picked you up from the floor, your knees hit the futon cushion as your forearms landed on the back of the frame. A sudden breeze alerted you that your skirt was hiked up over your hips and your heard fabric ripping as your panties were torn from your core.

Alastor held your hips in a bruising grip and he thrusted into you, filling you to the hilt in the first go. A strangled moan left your raw throat, hands clenching onto the back of the couch. You were given minimal time to get used to the full feeling before Alastor resumed his brutal pace from before.

"I'll tell you what my dear, I'll make you a deal. I will provide you with a more modern record player and the vinyls for all those songs you wanted to play tomorrow as I still will not allow VoxTek technology in the hotel," you were honestly only partially listening as his tip was hitting your g-spot with every word. "In exchange, your body is mine to use as I see fit. Does that sound fair Doll?"

A lewd moan escaped you as he continued to drag his length through your walls, "Fuck Alastor-"

He stopped his movements just as you were reaching your peak making you whine in displeasure "I asked you a question- do we have a deal? You will not cum until you've answered me."

"Yes, Alastor! It's a deal. Please, please, please make me cum!", you cried out, you were so desperate for release you would have agreed to anything he asked.

"Hmm, I quite like you begging Doll. I quite like punishing you as well- I do hope you continue to behave like a brat, just to give me an excuse", he resumed his pace and before you knew it you were pushed over the edge, clenching hard around him. Alastor's own release soon followed as he spilled into you with a groan.

You knelt there on the futon, catching your breath as he pulled out and redressed himself. Once he was neatly tucked away again he walked around the couch to your face. His index finger lifted your chin so you were looking up at him, "I will see you tomorrow my doll, do not be late."

With that he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you reeling from what just happened. After a few minutes of processing the unexpected turn of events the smirk returned to your face.

"I wonder what would happened if I was just 5 minutes late?"

[redvexillum]

Alastor: [Adjusting his bowtie with a grin, humming a jaunty old-time tune as he checks his reflection in a dusty hotel mirror]

Y/N: Oh! Heading out somewhere, Alastor?

Alastor: [Tilting his head with a toothy smile] Mmm, potentially! The day is full of wicked little wonders—I just haven’t decided which to indulge in yet.

Y/N: Want some help picking? Maybe I can narrow it down with you.

Alastor: [Tapping his chin theatrically] Well, I was considering dropping by that delightful new butcher shop downtown... You know how I adore fresh product.

Y/N: That's perfect! You do love exploring new menus and sampling the goods.

Alastor pauses, eyes glinting as they linger on you. There’s something thoughtful behind his smile, something calculating. It’s... almost fond. Almost.

He watches you with that ever-cheerful grin, eyes flickering like radio dials. Your eagerness, your curiosity—it amuses him. Delights him. Warms a part of him he swears doesn’t exist. Or so he insists.

Alastor: Or perhaps... [voice lilting as if narrating a bedtime story] a quaint little tea session with dear Rosie. She does serve a mean Bloody Mary fingers.

Y/N: That sounds lovely! You two always have such a pleasant afternoons together.

Alastor: [Grinning wider now, eyes narrowing mischievously] Or... I could take a leisurely stroll through the town square and, oh—I don’t know—commit a felony.

Y/N: [Still nodding supportively] A walk would be nice! The acid rain cleared up this morning, and the fog’s almost— [blinks] I—wait. Sorry. What was that last one?

Alastor: [Already striding toward the door, cane twirling, voice sing-song sweet] Looks like the day has chosen me! Thank you, darling, for your ever-insightful input! Always a pleasure!

Y/N: Alastor?! Hold on—felony?! Did you just say—Alastor, wait! You can’t just—ALASTOR!!

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

[artsdoodles]

Lil sneak peeks of an Alastor body pillow :)

[smoothiedreams]

So-

I think the radioapple is affecting my mind recently

[Says this after having consumed the content for hours]

I'd like to talk about what drew me to this couple dynamic in the first place.

Because I like all the tension between them, especially after the music that the show brought us, but for me to appreciate this ship I needed to find a common point between the two characters that would unite them.

I think it was the primary difference between them that attracted me to everything. Because yes, they are both in hell, one is a terrible sinner and the other is Satan himself.

But Lucifer is also an Angel, a fallen angel. A supernatural creature that was at the beginning of creation.

And Alastor was once a human. He lived among humans and lived among their customs. Yes, he was a killer. But he also had to disguise himself and hide ( unlike hell where he didn't need to hide his homicidal and cannibalistic tendencies )

So in its essence one was once a majestic being that did not come into direct contact with its creation.

And the other was once a simple, fragile, vulnerable piece of flesh.

But despite all this, Alastor always had the aura of being superior that affected people's lives and Lucifer feels like all other human beings.

I think this difference is where the space for them to create a connection lies. It's Lucifer being interested in human things. It's alastor to be fascinated by Lucifer's angelic nature.

I honestly think that Lucifer didn't have time to see how all humans evolved and the only contact he had with them was the sinners who arrived in hell (as we well know they are the worst of humanity).

So I think it would be cool, he learned a little about humanity through the most inhuman being in his view.

He looks for Alastor's vulnerabilities to tease him but despite everything he is still very much stuck in the image that the radio demon has set for himself of being powerful and cruel, so Lucifer doesn't think he can be anything else.

While Alastor forgets how powerful and divine Lucifer can be, despising the King of Hell because he presented himself as a "pathetic" figure in his view. Harmless and simple.

Lucifer letting his divine nature appear (like an angel for the first time observing a human, curious and confused, but still fascinated) while Alastor allows himself to have his human habits

[home-for-wayward-fawns]

𝐵𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒢𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓈

For those not aware, there is an event at the moment raising money for the Lilith Foundation. Anyone interested, please find more information here: https://www.tumblr.com/hellsgreatestevents/777310293710848000/hello-sinners-winners-and-everyone-in-between?source=share

When Alastor was a boy, he became obsessed with the broken glass of a church window.

These days, he's obsessed with something new...

TW/CW: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Rough Sex, Branding, Dubious Consent, Degradation, Humiliation, Licking Blood

Deep in the swamps of Louisiana, a small abandoned church stood under a large willow tree. 

An old, decrepit building that had barely stood the test of time. Some of the locals had whispered that it was from before the Declaration of Independence, built by the British to enforce the Church of England’s regime. By the time he had been a boy, it was no more than a playground for naughty children with nothing better to do. 

He had always been warned to stay far away from it, that a fallen church was the breeding ground for demons and devils, and yet, like all the other young ones, he had felt the pull that emanated from it. It was not the rumours of ghosts or devils that attracted him though. 

No, it was the broken rose window that called to him. 

A huge glass disc embedded above the door, and when the moon hit it just right, light shone through it and lit up the broken down entrance to the building. It was a powerful feeling to stand beneath it, as if God himself was trying to come home but was unable to. He could recall easily the obsession he’d had with that broken glass, the crack that had spread out as if trying to silence the Lord above. 

It was the start of something feral within him, this fascination with broken beauty. It was that fascination that had perhaps dragged him down to where he often found himself in the present. 

A little boy’s obsession with broken glass had transformed into a grown man’s obsession with broken bones, but that was a long time ago. Hell had so many far more interesting beautiful things to break. The Bible claimed Earth to be beautiful and Hell to be ugly, but he had to disagree. 

How could there be anything more beautiful than you? 

Once, Alastor might have compared you to the prettiest of preys but that felt horrendously inadequate a description. He had been quite the celebrated hunter in his life, be it deer or the lowest of mankind, but something he had learned is that prey always tried to run. You never had. 

It was quickly becoming his favourite game, a whole new obsession, to try to make you run. No matter how cruel, how dismissive he was; you never did. If he were a kinder man, he might try to get to the bottom of that little psychological problem but he did not feel so inclined. He liked that you didn’t run. 

What was Hell if not the land of no consequences? Why shouldn’t he take advantage of the sacrifice you had made of yourself? 

Your small whimpers were like music to his ears as she swung in the air. You had been more than happy to oblige when he’d requested playing a game to stave off his boredom. It was as simple as that, a request to entertain him and you were never one to deny him a thing. 

A thick rope lowered from the branch of a gnarled willow tree in his bayou and attached to which was you! Your hands were bound to the back of your head whilst your legs were spread in a lewd manner, knees bent so your feet had no choice but to rest above your plump ass. 

The white cloth that adorned your flesh, covering your more intimate parts had been a gift from him. You had been overjoyed, but it was not for you to know that it was more for his perverse entertainment. After all, what kind of sacrifice was not dressed in white? 

“I’ve always found broken things interesting.” He mused to himself, humming as he trailed a claw down the line of your spine. He felt his grin stretch across his face when you shivered beneath him. “Perhaps that’s why I like you so much, my dear.” 

He could feel it as you relaxed beneath him, his praise washing over you like a balm. You were such a silly thing, but he couldn’t deny the entertainment you brought him. Your scent mingled with the aggressive aroma of his home and it brought a comfort he couldn’t quite describe. It was as if everything was right with the world when you were here, his strung up little pet in his home. 

It was very tempting to just keep you strung up here for his viewing pleasure only…

“I’m not broken.” You tried to argue weakly and he laughed. 

“Oh? No?” He mused playfully, tugging at the main rope hanging from the tree. He laughed as you started to swing back and forth, squeaking as you did so. “Hm, I’m not convinced. Why else would you put yourself through such torments for my own amusement?” 

You didn’t have an answer, of course, not that he expected one. 

He put pressure on his claw, tearing through the white fabric as he dragged down, watching as it fell from your body to reveal your naked back. He spread out his hand across your soft skin, so different to his own rugged scarred back. 

“Alastor.” You whined, shifting your body to the best of your abilities within your tight binds. 

“Mm, what was it you said?” He mused, tapping his chin with the index finger of his free hand. “Ah yes, anything I want. You really should be more careful with your words, ma chère.” 

He pressed down harder, drawing a red line down your spine. Not yet enough to cut but enough to pull a hiss from your lips. Your back arched, whether from the shivers that ran down your spine or from pleasure he did not know, and he had not yet deciphered whether he cared. You were quite perplexing like that. 

Did he care about you? He did not know. He didn’t want to share you; he knew that much. He found himself growing more and more possessive of your time, monopolising it for himself. Where before he had found himself enjoying ordering you around in public, demeaning you in front of others; he now found it loathsome whenever other eyes were on you. As if they were intruding on something sacred between the two of you. 

“Hm, I think I’d quite like to cut you.” He said nonchalantly, as if he’d informed you what restaurant he fancied visiting that evening. “What do you think?” 

He could practically hear the gears turning in your head. You would say yes, it was just a matter of waiting. Of course, there was nothing you could do to stop him if he wanted to slice through you like ribbons, but there was something so delicious about your equal participation in these activities. He might have been the predator in this little arrangement but you were just as much to blame as he was. 

He only ever asked. You were the one who always said yes. 

“Whatever you want, Alastor.” You finally responded after a beat. 

“Good pet.” He praised, turning his body so he could pat the top of your head. “That’s why you’re my favourite.” 

He chuckled as you gasped, more than aware exactly how to play you to get what he wanted. You would be the perfect little puppet for his amusement as long as you were praised for good behaviour, or what he deemed to be good behaviour anyway. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, a reverence to your tone that brought his mind back to that dilapidated church back in his home town. He wondered if it was still standing or if those old ghosts had finally brought it to its knees. 

You’d look so pretty on your knees…

He moved what was left of the white fabric across your back so it fell down the sides before he came to stand behind you. He gripped your hips, pulling you backwards and laughing when you squeaked in shock. 

“Don’t get too excited, pet.” He chastised. “You have to be very good before you get that reward.” 

Alas, you were like so many others in Hell. So easily manipulated and motivated with sexual pleasure, though you were certainly less pushy than others. 

“I’ll be good.” You promised and he hummed in response. 

He pressed the pads of his fingers into your skin, stretching it like preparing a canvas. Your skin was soft like silk, the perfect plain canvas for any design he might fancy cutting into you…

“Do I own you?” He asked suddenly, fingers still pressed against your back. 

“Erm…” You responded, clearly shocked by his sudden question. 

“I call you my pet; you do my bidding, so, I ask you again: do I own you?” 

He waited for a moment, allowing you to digest his words. He wished he could see the way you were no doubt digging your teeth into your bottom lip, chewing on it anxiously as you tried to work out the right answer. 

“Yes.” You finally answered, almost sounding resigned. “I suppose you do.” 

“Wonderful!” He said cheerfully, paying no mind to your anxiety over the realisation before he dug his claw down in a sharp diagonal line across the bottom half of your back. He felt a shiver down his own back when you let out a scream from the sudden cut. “Your screams are beautiful, my pet.” 

You started to pant as he stopped, giving you a moment’s reprieve, before he placed his claw at the top of the first cut and dragged it diagonally the other way. You barely noticed when he stopped to cut a small line across the middle of both his first cuts. 

“Alastor, Alastor, wait!” She cried out, pulling against the binds. 

He listened to your pleas, a sadistic smile across his face as he leaned down to the blood that was starting to bubble to the surface. He groaned, your taste sending his nerves on fire. You were always so delicious, every single time—without fail. 

“We can take as long as you need, my dear. I’ve cleared my schedule for you.” He chuckled darkly. “Though, you’ve still got six letters to go.” 

So many needed sex to derive pleasure, but they must’ve been fools, no amount of attention to his groin could ever match for the sick joy he got when you snapped your head back to stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Letters?” You repeated shakily. 

Oh yes. That hit the spot. 

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” He asked, making no effort to hide his sadistic grin. “I’m simply claiming my property.” 

You shivered deliciously beneath him before nodding your head. There was a look in your eye, a spark, and he couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it fear? Excitement? He couldn’t say. It wasn’t rebellion, at the very least. 

The next few letters were far easier on you, eliciting small whimpers as he drew sharp lines into your back. As expected, the circular ‘O’ was the worst; screams were pulled from his throat as you twitched, struggling to stay still. He leaned down to swipe his tongue across the blood that rose to the surface, groaning at your very specific flavour. By the time he’d finally finished, you looked exhausted; completely reliant on the ropes to keep you up but no less compliant to his whims. 

No wonder the gods of old demanded human sacrifice; this was the most beautiful you had ever been. 

He lapped over the letters, giving you a moment to compose yourself whilst he lost himself in your essence. Your voice had grown hoarse from screaming; your back was stained red as was the white cloth that he’d gifted you. You whimpered as his tongue pressed against the incisions, trying to push more of your blood out for his tasting pleasure. 

“Do I own you?” He asked again, looking up with a grin as he faced you. He licked his lips, spreading your blood across them as he savoured the taste. 

“Yes, Alastor.” You whimpered. 

He chuckled, slapping a hand a bit roughly on your backside, making you jump in your binds. “I’m going to quite enjoy this.” He announced, enjoying the shiver of fear and excitement his words caused within you. 

Without warning, he gripped both ropes that were keeping your knees up and suddenly sliced through them with his claws. You cried out in shock as your legs fell, your naked feet digging into the dirt below. Instinctively, he watched as you pressed your thighs together to attempt to achieve some modesty. 

“Oh no, pet. I know that’s not what you want.” He tutted. “You want your reward, don’t you?” 

He watched with glee as you hesitantly spread your legs for him, pushing your hips up as far as you could for him so he could see your stained undergarments. He tutted at you, shaking his head performatively. 

“Dirty, dirty pet.” He scolded, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband. “Only very sick puppies get excited from being branded.” 

“Alastor, please, I was good.” You whined. 

He roughly tugged the undergarments down and found himself actually enjoying the moan it elicited as the humid air suddenly struck your core. He pressed his hands against your ass, spreading his fingers out so he could roughly grab at it, digging his claws in. “Don’t get it twisted, pet. You are not good. You are very bad. You are perverted—disgusting.” He chastised. “What does it say about you that you get excited when a powerful demon carves into your skin and brands you like cattle?” 

You were shaking beneath him but despite his harsh words, your excitement was not dying down—it was amping up. He knew you loved this; you enjoyed the way he would speak down to you as if you truly were no more than a pet for his amusement and this was, after all, a reward. 

It just happened to be one he enjoyed too. 

“Alastor.” You whined, not knowing how to defend yourself. 

He laughed. You truly were his favourite toy. “Luckily for you this is exactly how I like you best. My naughty, perverted, disgusting pet!” 

He pressed two fingers against your core, just out of reach for a moment so you could do nothing but weakly rut back, trying to push them inside of you. He laughed as he watched your futile attempts. It really was quite amusing how desperate you’d get for a little release! 

“Alastor. Alastor.” You panted; his eyebrow raised as he watched you spread your legs further, as if that might help your cause at all. He had to say, he did enjoy when you were so openly desperate and pathetic for him. “I’m your pet. I’m your perverted pet. Please.” 

He thrust his wrist forward suddenly, forcing two fingers inside of you and stretching them apart. You let out a cry, a mixture of pain and pleasure, as you started to rut back on him. Your moans only got louder as he laughed at you, throwing your hips back to the best of your ability to try to force him deeper. He thrust a third finger inside of you, eliciting a pretty little mewling sound from your lips. 

“I like you best like this.” He informed you, twisting the fingers inside of you as you cried out. “Pathetic.” 

You panted, nodding your head as you rode his fingers. “I’ll stay pathetic. I’ll stay pathetic.” You promised. “I’ll be so pathetic.” 

He chuckled and then grinned as he hit something deep inside you, a spot that caused you to twitch. Your eyes went wide as your mouth fell open, gaping like a fish out of water. You threw your hips back suddenly, forcing him to hit it again. 

“I’m so pathetic! Fuck, I’m pathetic!” You cried out. “I’m bad! I’m perverted! I’m whatever you want! Alastor, please!” 

He laughed, amused at your desperate lewd display but granted you mercy, grabbing your hip with his free hand to pull you back while he used the fingers inside you to piston against that spot. You moaned loudly, your eyes rolling back as your tongue lolled out in a ridiculous display of lust—you looked like one of Angel Dust’s posters! 

You twitched and writhed against his fingers, animalistic grunts falling from your lips before you went pliant. He slowly pulled his fingers from inside you, wiping them against the back of your naked thigh. You giggled at the sensation, floating somewhere he could never follow you. He took the moment to inspect his name on your skin, happy to see your volatile movements had not damaged his word. 

“Belle.” He breathed in French, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of his compliment—though at this point, he doubted it would register. 

Whilst you were still on whatever cloud it was you often floated to during these sessions, he unbuckled his belt, letting it fall loose as he worked his pants open. He had no desire to become any more naked than necessary for your rewards. He heard the sharp intake of breath, signalling that you were coming back to him. 

“Please.” You whined. 

He pulled out his cock from his own undergarments, wrapping a hand around it and pumping it in his fist. Luckily, your screams from earlier had been more than enough to get him excited. As precum leaked from his tip, he spread it along his shaft, whilst keeping an eye on you. 

Finally, he gripped the base and pressed his tip against your aching entrance. Using his free hand, he slipped it under your bound arms and gripped your hair roughly, holding your head so you had no choice but to face forward. You whimpered, eager to turn your head, but he could not allow you the satisfaction of seeing him become so dishevelled from your tightness. 

You were pathetic. Not him. 

He bit into his lip as he pushed forward, your tight heat engulfing him in a manner that had one of his eyes twitching as he fought for control. He swallowed the groan that threatened to escape him; his grip on your hair tightened painfully, pulling your head back as he started to move his hips. 

As if you could sense his unease, you started to moan loudly. “Alastor!” You cried out. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck—” 

He chuckled at your cursing, letting your lack of control wash over him like a balm that eased him. His movements were slow at first, thrusting inside of you and leaving you aching for more. You whined pathetically but knew to keep your hips still. 

He gripped your hip tightly, starting to move your body faster. “I get nothing from this.” He growled as your skin slapped together loudly. “This is simply because nothing else keeps you satisfied. You're the pervert.” 

You moaned loudly, nodding your head as his large cock forced it’s way inside you, spreading you wide to accommodate the width. You could barely breathe, let alone respond, so you simply continued to nod your head whilst he held it in place. 

He released your head, happy that he’d regained control, and gripped your other hip roughly. He dug his fingers in, his claws scratching into your skin whilst the pads of his thumbs dug into your skin hard enough to bruise. He knew you liked that too—marks of ownership. 

He used his height advantage to lift you in the air, your feet kicking out as you cried out, shocked at the sudden movements. He bounced you on his cock, enjoying how helpless you were and using it to fuel his thrusts. He could feel you pulsing around him, squeezing him tightly as you moaned helplessly. 

“Next time, we’re going to do this in front of a mirror—so you can see how pathetic you look.” He threatened. 

You spasmed around him, throwing your head back and whining at the threat—something to note down for later. He’d have to use his tentacles so you wouldn’t gain the upper hand over him. He couldn’t have that. 

He became more aggressive as he felt himself growing close, his balls throbbing every time they slapped against his skin loudly. You cried out as he forced himself deeper, as if he was trying to dig out a part of your body that was just for him—maybe he was. 

“Alastor! I can’t—I need—” You cried out, begging for something, though you didn’t know what. 

“You need to be a good pet and take what I give you.” He responded, digging his claws into your hips, forcing you to cry out. 

That did the trick. 

You were suddenly convulsing around him, your entire body going slack against his chest. He released your hip, lifting one hand to slice through the rope in the air easily so your entire body fell against him. Your arms fell lax down by your sides and in an almost affectionate movement, he slowly pulled you from his cock. 

“Alastor…” You murmured, exhausted. 

He chuckled, flipping you around with ease so you could face him before thrusting up into your tight heat with one quick movement, eliciting another pleasured cry from your lips. This was how he liked you best, with your eyes rolled back and your tongue sticking out—when you were lost to the world. 

All you could focus on was him. 

He gripped your wrists roughly, letting you fall back slightly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding on tightly as he used your wrists to give him the necessary leverage to pound into your abused core. 

“What are you, my pathetic little pet?” He teased, holding off his own orgasm to further revel in your depravity—oh, if the sweet princess could see you now! 

“Alastor’s…” You moaned, drawling out every last syllable lazily. 

Oh. Well that was unexpected. 

What was even more unexpected was the thrill it sent down his back, the need to claim and steal and take. He moved suddenly, shoving your back against the tree and started to thrust madly. You screamed as he pulled your hands above your head, pinning them against the tree. 

“That’s right. Alastor’s. You’re branded now, my dear.” He growled. “You’re my property.” 

The bark of the tree was rough against your recently cut back, eliciting further screams from you as he fucked you with a brutal pace. It was almost animalistic, his need to see your insides painted with him. His orgasm was sudden, his hips slamming forward against your own, burying himself to the tilt as thick ropes of cum filled you to the brim. 

You whined, falling forward as he released your wrists. You wrapped your arms around him and he allowed you this brief moment of comfort as he caught his breath, his hands pressed so tight against the tree that his claws cut through them. 

What the fuck was that?

He let out a sharp exhale through his nose before he picked you up and placed you in the dirt on your knees. You let out a confused noise, your face falling against his hip and he chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Come now, pet. You know how this ends.” He tutted. 

You blinked, slowly coming back to yourself before you kissed the head of his cock, slowly wrapping your lips around it as your tongue lapped at the shaft. He allowed you the moment to be lazy, pushing your tongue beneath his shaft as you slowly bobbed your head up and down his length. 

He spread his fingers across your scalp, massing it as you sucked him clean. “Good pet.” He sighed, feeling the tension droop from his shoulders. “You’re doing such a good job. You can have a nice bath after this.” 

You purred around him and it brought a genuine smile to his face. You were good—good for him. He might even add those lotions you liked, since he was in a good mood. He looked down at you, admired that blissed out expression as you obediently cleaned him with no expectation of reward. 

You were so good. 

You were so beautiful. 

You reminded him of that old church, falling apart at the seams. You were not the church, oh no, you were the rose window. You were the shattered glass, his new obsession, and he was never letting you go.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

The Butcher of Bourbon Street

Human Hotel Trip ~ Part 4~ 3.8k

Hazbin Hotel ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor ₊⁺⋆ Eventually Explicit

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

//In which Alastor is the first to rise in the morning and Charlie thinks it's a great idea to do a walking tour of New Orleans with a true crime TikToker. CW: Alastor is in Hell for a Reason, discussion of murders he committed, and prejudice he experienced. AN: This one is the rough one folks, but I promise this fic will have a happy ending//

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Alastor’s eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry and unfocused as morning sun forced its way between the floor-length curtains. 

The Radio Demon blinked slowly, trying to piece together his surroundings—familiar but slightly off in a way that nibbled at the back of his mind. The plush furniture, the soft bed under him were all foreign. 

In Hell, when he did sleep, it was usually slumped in his chair by the fireplace or in front of his control panel. He preferred it to anything too…soft. 

Or, warm. 

Alastor was becoming a cutely aware of a warmth pressed against his right side. He blinked up at the ceiling, before finally glancing down his body—and his eyes widened as he took in the sight. 

Charlie’s sleeping form curled up against his side. Her golden hair spilled across his chest, and his delicate fingers clutched at the silk of his pajamas. 

This…certainly was an unexpected turn of events. 

A year ago, Alastor would have laughed and recoiled at even the thought that he would be in such a position. But, now, he found himself unwilling to move, and disturb the peacefully slumbering princess. 

Charlie looked as serene as he had ever seen her. Her pretty face was usually contorted in concern or exuberance, but right now there was a gentle calm to every ounce of her. 

A dull throbbing in his temple reminded him that he wasn’t as impervious as he believed in this form. Not to fatigue or libations. 

Delicately, Alastor lifted the arm that wasn’t trapped under Charlie and rubbed at his forehead. 

His last memory was of her delicate hands putting his glasses aside on the nightstand…though Alastor hardly doubt he’d done anything truly untoward even while inebriated. 

He because he maintained a calculated distance between himself and others. Charlie had been the exception since they’d met.  Alastor chose not to think too hard on that. 

But now, her proximity was…comforting. Something he hadn’t experienced in a century at least. 

And he didn’t want to move. Until, suddenly, Charlie stirred. 

The princess was now sleeping on the ‘barrier’ pillow she’d put between; when her leg curled and slid up along Alastor’s thigh. The Radio Demon froze, another foreign sensation coursing through him. 

Desire—no, just arousal. Due no doubt due to his human form. 

Was it just mortal hormones thudding in his pulse and making his heart raced under Charlie’s palm?

Of course. He was the feared Radio Demon. This did not happen to him. He didn’t…feel things like this. 

Charlie wriggled next to him, and Alastor decided drastic measures were necessary. 

He closed his eyes, concentrating with all his might to call upon his shadow powers. Willing his dark energy to envelope him and leave the princess behind. 

Alastor’s form sank through the mattress, under the bed, before sliding beneath the bathroom door. 

He gripped the edges of the sink as he reappeared, his knuckles paling as he lifted his eyes to stare at his own reflection—even alone, it took a moment for the reflexive grin to drop from his lips. Still, he looked manic. And he swore he could see the ghost of the mark through his forehead. 

Alastor ducked, quickly turning on the faucet to splash cold water over his face and regain an ounce of his composure. 

What he’d told Husker was more true than even Alastor was willing to admit. He had not looked in a mirror and seen this face in nearly a century. 

Another overwhelming tide threatening to rip him out to sea and drown him. 

“Pull yourself together.” He hissed at the droplets cascading down into the sink. “It’s…a physical reaction. Nothing more.” 

But, even as Alastor stood there, trying to calm his cacophonous thoughts, a realization struck him like a bolt, turning the rest to thrumming silence. 

It wasn’t just physical arousal he’d felt when Charlie clung to him. No, it was far more dangerous. And it would ruin him. 

Alastor was not a creature who denied his hungers, especially not in death. He devoured what he willed. He killed when it pleased him to do so. 

The madness and mercilessness of the Radio Demon’s whims struck fear into any who crossed his path. 

But Charlie Morningstar was not afraid of him. 

“She should be.” Alastor hissed between his teeth.

The princess was forgetting who he really was—and he needed to remind them both. He stayed hunched, covering his face with his hand. 

Then, this errant desire—to touch, to have, to hold and be held—would be banished back to the pits where it belong. 

The Radio Demon’s laugh started as a low chuckle, gradually building to a hysterical cackle. His fingers elongated and sharpened, and his smile stretched unnaturally wide beneath his palm. His demonic nature threatening to surface. 

“How utterly ridiculous.” Alastor laughed, his jaw stretched as he threw his head back to chortle. “Pining over the Princess like some lovesick schoolboy? The height of folly.” 

His laughter echoed off the bathroom tiles, bouncing back to him and amplifying the color of madness. 

When Alastor had laughed himself breathless, he decided to make use of the suite’s amenities, and wash away the traces of the foolish notion that lingered on his skin. 

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

When Alastor had dried, dressed, and recomposed himself with his demonic powers—he hesitated at the bathroom door. Steeling himself for the inevitable encounter with the princess. 

Who might not even be awake. Might just adorably sleep rumpled and still tangled up in their bed—the bed. That he would not be sleeping in again tonight so help him. 

“Remember who you are,” Alastor muttered to himself as he buttoned his red dress shirt up to his chin. “And what you are not.” 

He stepped into the honeymoon suite, dark eyes scanning the room and finding it empty as his chest. 

Charlie had already gone?

Alastor called her name and heard nothing in return. His smile actually faltered, but he shook his head to dispel the unwelcomed sensation. 

“Utterly absurd,” he chuckled without his usual mirth. “Why should I care if she’s—” 

His eyes landed on a folded pieces of paper near the glasses that he didn’t need to see. Alastor plucked it open with careful fingers. 

Charlie’s overly curly handwriting greeted him: 

Good Morning Al! Gone to sunrise yoga class~ back soon! ~ Charlie ♥ 

His eyes lingered on the heart she’d drawn next to her name. Something stirred within him, but this time, the demon knew it was that same lingering warmth he’d felt trapped under her arm this morning. 

Alastor shattered the feeling with a sharp, cruel laugh. 

“Oh, you old fool,” he snarled to himself, dropping the folded note into palm. That was not for him, it was just who Charlie was.

“Radio Demon. Overlord. ” Alastor hissed at himself, clenching his fist. “Butcher’s Boy.” 

Neon green flames spit from between his fingers, engulfing the stationary in an instant. 

“You do not feel…this.” 

Alastor tilted his hand, letting the ashes fall. 

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

Charlie beamed out from under her wide-brimmed hat as the sun beamed down mercilessly on the cobblestones streets of the French Quarter. Alastor stood just beside her, his red-tinted sunglasses and crimson button-down a stark contrast to the white and pastel clad tourist around them. 

“Oh, Al, isn’t this exciting?” Charlie gushed, practically bouncing on her toes. “They said this was the best tour at yoga class! We can learn so much history!” She glanced back at him for a moment. “And you can catch up.” 

Alastor’s perpetual grin tightened ever so slightly. “Indeed, my dear. Truly…enriching.” 

Charlie’s enthusiasm waned an hour into the tour, constantly casting sidelong glances at Alastor—who was uncharacteristically silent the entire time. 

She expected, well, something, anything to come out of his mouth. The man usually never stopped talking. Especially to her. 

Was he bored? Or…was he up to something? 

She thought this tour would connect him more with his human roots, but maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. 

Charlie’s musings were interrupted by an energetic voice behind her. 

“Hey guys! Ginger Talks True Crime, here, coming to you live from the heart of New Orleans!”

The Princess turned to see a young woman with fiery red hair, phone held aloft on a selfie stick. She felt more than heard Alastor’s static burst beside her, lifting the hair on her arms. 

“Today, we’re diving deep into the dark underbelly of the Big Easy,” the young woman continued, her voice rising with dramatic flair and upward inflection. “First up, the infamous Eugenia Beauregard!”

Charlie’s brow furrowed as she listened to Ginger’s animated retelling of the supposed black widow’s exploits. The TikToker’s excitement seemed at odds with the grim subject matter.

“And who could forget Tommy ‘Two-Ton’ Marchand?” Ginger chirped, barely pausing for breath. “The bootlegger who met his sticky end right here on Bourbon Street!”

Charlie glanced at Alastor, hoping to share an eye roll, expecting to see him barely concealing his contempt behind a smile and twitch of his eye, but instead she saw him give a chuckle. 

“Right here on Bourbon Street.” Alastor murmured with a smirk, “and here, and there, and way over there.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed, about to ask the demon what he meant—when Ginger launched into a breathless account of Viper Charbonnet, a 1920s loan shark that met his own nasty end. The three of them were now taking up the back of the walking tour, as the TikToker’s tone started drowning out Terry the Tour Guide. 

 Charlie leaned closer to Alastor. “Hey, um, we can break off from the group if you want.” She whispered. “I know all the phone use isn’t your idea of fun.” 

Alastor’s head snapped toward her, “Nonsense my dear, I’m having a splendid time.” He ducked his head to her, catching her eyes through his red glasses. “Let’s carry on.” 

Charlie agreed…but she couldn’t shake this eerie feeling somewhere in her stomach. Something was hiding behind Alastor’s unchanging smile. 

As the tour group ambled towards a picturesque fountain in the heart of a beautiful park, Ginger’s chatter faded into background noise. Finally, Terry was able to lauch into a detailed history of the landmark. 

Charlie was fascinated, captivated with the story—but her moment of peace was short lived. 

The moment Terry was out of the shot, the TikToker’s voice cut through the placid burbling water. 

“And now, for the main event!” Ginger stepped onto the edge of the fountain with her phone held high. 

Charlie’s irritation was stimed, only by a low and dangerous laugh from the man at her elbow. 

“And now, for the main event! Right here, loyal fam, is where they found Inspector Clayton Bourdreaux. Hanging like a macabre Christmas ornament.” Ginger drew her finger over her mouth dramatically. “With a smile carved from ear to ear!” 

Charlie felt her stomach drop through the grass at her feet. 

She spun around, seeking Alastor’s face, only to freeze at the sight of his gruesome grin. 

“It was this signature mutilation,” Ginger continued, oblivious to Charlie’s growing unease and Alastor’s brimming glee, “that earned the killer his infamous moniker: The Butcher of Bourbon Street!”

All of her thoughts fell silent…with abject horror. 

The Radio Demon’s eyes met hers, his smile never wavering.

“Fascinating theory, isn’t it, my dear?” he purred, voice low enough for only her to hear.

Before Charlie could think to respond, Terry announced a break for lunch. 

The group of humans dispersed towards a cluster of food trucks, the aroma of Creole cuisine and spices filling the air at the edge of the park

Charlie seized her chance. 

Gripping Alastor’s arm, she pulled him away from the fountain and towards a towering oak tree. 

“Alastor,” she hissed, her voice trembling slightly, “was that... was that you? Did you kill those people?”

To her utter shock, the demon let out a sound she had never heard from the Radio Demon. 

Alastor giggled. 

“Why, of course I did, darling! Every last one.” He chuckled, as if reminiscing about a particularly amusing anecdote. “Well, except for dear Ginny Beauregard. That enterprising lady and I merely crossed paths every now and then while we…pursued our various pastimes, shall we say.” 

Charlie’s jaw dropped, her mind struggling to process his casual admission.

 “Although,  I suppose in the end one of Ginny’s husbands caught on to her act—and tried to frame me for her untimely demise. A shame to carve up that pretty face of hers.” Alastor tone turned wistful. “I made quite sure his end was...particularly bloody, for Ginny.”

Charlie felt her world tilting on its axis. 

Because she knew what Alastor was in life; he’d told everyone and anyone in Hell. 

But it was, different now that they were in the Overworld. They were among humans, and he proudly confessing to a string of brutal murders. And worse, he seemed to relish the memory.

Charlie pressed her palms to her temples. 

She’d brought an infamous serial killer back to the scene of his crimes. Angel was right—what had she been thinking?

“Alastor…” she asked, her voice wavering. “Did you agree to come with me…to finish what you started?”

Alastor paced a hand dramatically over his heart, like he was personally wounded by her entirely reasonable assumption. “My dear Charlotte, I gave you my word. No harm shall come to any human during our little excursion.” His grin was sharp as ever. “I am, if nothing else, a demon of my word.”

Charlie exhaled, relief washing over her. “Oh, thank goodness.”

Maybe she shouldn’t trust him so easily, but she did. 

Their conversation was interrupted by Ginger’s animated voice. The TikToker pranced past, selfie stick extended, her phone capturing every exaggerated expression.

“And now, my true crime lovers, let’s talk about some of the Butcher’s lesser-known victims!” Ginger’s voice rang out. 

And Alastor’s body turned towards the redhead, tilting his head curiously. 

“There was Councilman Thaddeus LaRue, found dismembered in his own bathtub. Then we have Jeremiah Pritchard, a door-to-door Bible salesman, discovered with his own scriptures stuffed down his throat. And get this—even a nun wasn’t safe! Sister Fontenot’s body was upside down in the confessional booth. ”

Charlie’s head snapped towards Alastor. “Really?” she hissed. “A nun? You killed a nun?”

Alastor shrugged, “What can I say; Sister Agatha had it coming.”

Charlie stared at him, torn between horror and a morbid curiosity she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Ginger’s voice cut through Charlie’s thoughts once more, drawing her attention back to the enthusiastic TikToker with a voice that carried right across the park.

“But here’s the real question, my internet fam,” Ginger asked, her eyes wide with  flair. “Was the Butcher really the monster history made him out to be?”

To Charlie’s continuing surprise—Alastor gave a grunt that sounded…offended? And she swore he said “yes, obviously,” under his breath. 

Ginger continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was still crystal clear. “Turns out, our dear ‘Holy Jere’ Pritchard had a nasty habit of assaulting women when he knocked on their doors and their husbands weren’t home. And Councilman LaRue? A regular client of Madame Josephine’s, known for his cruel treatment of her girls.”

Charlie’s stomach churned. She glanced at Alastor, who remained unnaturally still, his smile fixed but his eyes blazing.

“And let’s not forget Inspector Boudreaux,” Ginger added. And Charlie felt her entire body prickling with static. “Everyone knew he turned a blind eye to the lynching of black men.”

Charlie’s heart raced. She turned to Alastor, her voice gentle. “Al... is that true? Were they all...?”

Alastor’s grin tightened, his teeth clenched as he spat out, “Grin and bear it.”

“What?” 

Alastor’s eyes burned with a fury she’d never seen before. Not even when they were facing down the wrath of Heaven—there was no amusement left in his face.

 “When my mother went to that bastard Boudreaux, about men spitting on her child in the street, do you know what he said?” His voice was dangerously low. “He told her she should expect nothing else for parading her ‘half-breed’ brat around town. That she should ‘grin and bear it.’“

Charlie’s heart sank. “Oh, Al...”

“So,” Alastor continued, gleeful malice dripping into his tone, “I made sure dear Inspector Boudreaux bore that grin for the rest of his life.” The smile he gave her chilled Charlie to her very soul. “And in death.”

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨❀⊹❀⊹

Charlie’s mind reeled as she processed Alastor’s words. 

She clung desperately to the notion that his killings were driven by a twisted sense of justice. “But Alastor,” she began, her words trembling, “You…targeted bad people, just bad people, right…?”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, his irritation palpable as he turned sharply towards her. “My dear, I know that even you are not that naive,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain, “I wasn’t some vigilante hero. I was a killer, plain and simple.”

Charlie’s eternal optimism refusing to yield that easily. “But it seemed like you were targeting people who had done terrible things. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

“Count? On whose ledger?”

Alastor leaned down, bringing his face mere inches from Charlie’s.  He may have the dark hair and brown skin of a human, but suddenly, all she could see was the Radio Demon. 

“Listen carefully, darling. I’m a serial killer with standards, not a saint or martyr. Every moment, every scream, every drop of blood—I relished it all.”

Charlie’s heart raced, she could feel it in her throat, but she stood her ground. “Just because you were sent to Hell doesn��t mean that’s where you always have to be” Her voice rose with volume and passion, pushing back into Alastor’s space—until he was the one to lean back. 

Alastor scoffed, straightening up and fold his arms behind his back as he turned back towards the fountain. 

“Hell is the perfect place for me, sweetheart.” His smile was minute, but ever-present. “Everyone there deserves to be there.” 

As the words left his mouth, Charlie saw something flicker across Alastor’s face. His manic grin softened, and his eyes were on her. 

“Except…for you. Of course.” 

Charlie couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know how to process what he said. Or the way he said it—it almost sounded like the Radio Demon was being…vulnerable. 

The bustling of Bourbon Street faded to background, leaving only the two of them. 

Slowly, hesitatingly, the princess reached out and placed her hand on Alastor’s arm. 

This time, she felt him relax under her touch. Like his sharp edges dulled as Charlie’s heart jumped back into her throat—because, just maybe, she might be reaching him. 

“Alastor.” She began gingerly, hope blooming in her chest and giving her the courage to say the words. “I know there’s good in you. I can see it, even if you can’t.”

“Dear girl, you’re seeing what you want to see.” Alastor’s face fell into a mask with a smile, but he didn’t pull away. “The only thing that’s changed, is what people call me when I kill.”

He lifted his chin, his gaze far away. 

“The Radio Demon, or the Butcher.” 

Before Charlie could respond, an irritatingly chipper tone asserted her way into the conversation and almost between them. “Oh my God, are you two arguing about the Butcher of Bourbon Street? This is perfect for my TikTok!”

Charlie turned to see Ginger, the obnoxious influencer from their tour group, shoving her phone in their faces. 

The princess of Hell tried to maintain her composure, forcing a polite smile. “I’m sorry, but we’re having a private conversation. Would you mind giving us some space?”

Ginger, completely oblivious to the tension, pressed forward. “Come on, just a quick comment for my viewers! They’ll eat this up!”

As the woman continued to babble, Charlie felt Alastor stiffen under her hold—then start to vibrate madly. Beyond the buzz of traffic, she heard ear-piercing radio feedback. 

“Al…” She glanced up, seeing his eyes begin to glow an ominous red.

There was a sharp crack, followed by a shower of sparks. 

Ginger yelped as her phone exploded into pieces, scattering across the concrete and grass. 

Charlie gasped, her eyes darting between the shocked TikToker and Alastor’s demonic grin.

“What the fuck?!”

Without a word, Alastor turned on his heel and strode away, radiating fury even as he remained perfectly composed. 

Charlie’s heart sank—just when she thought she was reaching something in him. 

“Al, wait!” she called out, but he didn’t slow his pace. 

Charlie turned back to Ginger, who was staring at her shattered phone in disbelief. 

“I’m so sorry about that,” the princess said quickly, fishing in her purse. “Here, let me compensate you for the phone—I have to go!”

“Alastor!” she called out, finally catching up to him. Charlie reached out, her fingers grasping his sleeve. 

He stopped abruptly, turning to face her with a tightly controlled expression. 

Charlie nearly ran right into her chest, sweat clinging to her blonde hair. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage.

“Look, I know you’re upset, but what just happened back there... it doesn’t have to define you,” she said earnestly. “Anyone can be redeemed if they want to be. Sir Pentious going to heaven is proof of that!”

 If he could do it, surely Alastor could too. She tightened her grip on his arm, her eyes pleading.

“You have good in you, Al. I’ve seen it. You just need to—”

 “Enough!” he snapped, his usually smooth voice sharp with anger. 

Charlie flinched, but didn’t let go of his arm.

“I have no desire to change my ways, Princess,” Alastor continued, his smile tight and dangerous. “Not in life, and certainly not in death. I deserve the fate of Hell and everything I have suffered.”

Her heart sank, but she refused to give up. “But Al, you don’t have to—”

“Let me make something emphatically…painfully clear, so it might just get through your thick skull.” Alastor interrupted, his voice lowering to a deadly whisper. “You think you can fix me, Charlie, but you can’t. You were a fool to ever think otherwise” 

The finality of it struck her like a physical blow, but Alastor had to twist the knife one more time. 

He leaned in close, his ruby red demon eyes boring into hers. “I do not want to be saved.”

Charlie’s knees weakened, and she stumbled back, watching Alastor turn his back on her and leave—until his retreating form blurred with her unshed tears. 

“Al...” she whispered, her voice cracking.

His words echoed in her mind. 

I do not want to be saved. 

⚜️Part 5 ⚜️ Jazz and Jen ⚜️

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

[nkirukaj]

Our Renaissance (2)

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing, Racially Degrading Language, 1920s Slang

Genre: Slight Angst/SMUT (& Humor!)

Word Count: 8.2K

1922

“Let me go get my son,” she leaves the room to call out. “Alastor! There are some people here I’d like you to meet!”

Alastor comes down into the small kitchen, seeing there a man, a woman, and a little girl. All three of them dolled up in garb that Alastor would only consider wearing for the fanciest of occasions. These must be rich people, he concluded. “This is the Bates family,” His mother continued “That is Cassius Bates, the head of the household.” Cassius nods towards him in a greeting “Daphne Bates,” who waves “and that is little miss Brynn, who’s been begging to come to see our city.” this little girl curtsies, and her mother responds 

“She’s been practicing a curtsy but she doesn’t know when to use it,” Daphne says, eliciting laughter from the rest of them

“How do you do?” Alastor asked politely

“Didn’t you say you had another daughter Mr. Bates?”

“Oh stop, call me Cassius. And yes, I’m not sure where she is-“

A young woman bursts through the door in the kitchen holding about four flowers “Daddy! They have Encore Azaleas here! Remember? From the flower book I read?”

“Yes indeed, but you’re late. And what did I tell you about removing things from people’s property?”

She lowers her head “Yes, of course. I apologize.” She hands them to Alastor’s mother, who laughs 

“Keep ‘em.” 

The young woman brightens up “Thank you!”

Daphne clears her throat “Dearest, please, introduce yourself.”

“Oh! Hello, I am Vera.”

Vera? Alastor lifts his head at the name, looking toward the young woman over his glasses, who happens to place her hat further back on her head. She was the same girl, the same eyes, the same cheeks, the same hair, and definitely the same lips.

“Alastor, isn’t Miss Vera so pretty?” his mother nudges him slightly. Vera looks up at the mention of his name and studies his face, likely going through the same thought process as he had a minute ago

“She’s quite beautiful.”

She tilts her head “Thank you, sir.” Showing a smile that was surely fake

“I’ve been trying to get my Alastor to think about marriage since he is getting to that age.” She says to Cassius “How old did you say Miss Vera was again?”

Cassius looks to his daughter to answer “I’m 19,” she says

“Perfect for my Alastor!” She hugs his shoulders and he blushes

“I keep telling my Vera the same thing! She wants to be a famous actress! But I keep saying, when you do, where you gonna keep all the money? You gotta find a husband!”

“Very true!”

The adults chuckle cordially as the children just stare around. Alastor catches Vera eyeing him directly, playing with the flowers in her hands as their eyes meet. When the laughter dies down, Alastor’s mother speaks again “Alastor, I wanted you to meet them because they’re staying the next town over and they want to work with us!”

“I heard that you were the best, colored seamstress this side of New Orleans Ms. Fontenot,”

“Oh, you can call me May, no need for formalities here,”

“And I heard your son is a genius at lawn care,”

Alastor waves him off “I don’t know about a genius,” he chuckles politely

Cassius nudges his wife gently “And humble! I like that! That’s really important if you want to make something of yourself son,”

He fakes a smile 

“While you’re here, why don’t you take a look around? Maybe Alastor can show you the rest of the flowers?”

“Oh, I’m not one for flowers, but we can discuss the terms of you and your son’s employment, but Vera,” Cassius turns to his oldest daughter “Vera loves flowers. Why don’t you let the young man show you all the flora?”

Vera’s eyes flit up at Alastor, who purses his lips and raises his eyebrow. “Well, I do like more than Azaleas,” she shrugs slightly

“Can I come?” Brynn pulls on Vera’s dress

“Of course,” Vera pulls her little sister close

May puts her arm around her son’s shoulders “Be a gentleman, like I raised you, okay?”

Alastor nods “Right this way,” he leads the girls out the back door “So here we have the Southern Magnolias, Louisiana Iris, Louisiana Phlox, Goldsturm blooms-those haven’t bloomed yet- and of course, you’ve obviously seen the Encore Azaleas” he sounds bored, but mumbles under his breath “Since you helped yourself to some,”

“What was that?” Vera’s head snapped up

He turns to her quickly “Since you helped yourself to some,” he turns back to the flowers “These are the-“

She’s taken aback by his brazenness, “I was unaware that these were being sold, it was simply a mistake,”

“You would think if one didn’t know something, one would ask, so mistakes like that wouldn’t happen,”

“Well, maybe one is used to flowers being free and has never heard of them being a commodity,”

He quickly turns to face her once more “Well now you know not to steal,”

Vera drops her sister’s hand “I would hardly call it stealing! I offered to give them back as soon as I knew they were not free! To steal means to take another person's property without permission or legal right and without intending to return it,”

“Mhmm sure,” Alastor crosses his arms

“What do you mean ‘sure’? You saw me! You all saw me!” She gestures around the empty air

Brynn looks up at her sister “You’re shouting again,”

Vera takes a breath and drops her arms, looking down at her sister “I’m sorry. I did not mean to,” she cups the little girl’s cheek

“Shall we continue the tour?” Alastor asks smugly

Vera stews silently as Alastor continues to go through the flowers they sell.

“What do you do exactly?”

He turns to her slowly “What?”

“What do you do here? What is your purpose?”

“I’m in charge of all the flowers. Planting, potting, and delivering,”

Vera scoffs “Such backbreaking work that is, isn’t it?” she asks mockingly

Alastor furrows his brows “It is actually. And anyone who’s ever had to do it would know that. In fact, anyone who’s ever worked at all would know that,”

Vera rolls her eyes but says nothing in response

“Any more questions?” Alastor asks through his teeth

Brynn raises her little hand and Alastor blinks, he’d almost forgotten that she was there “What’s that?” she points to the woods

“That’s the forest, it’s a very famous hunting ground for professionals and hobbyists, like me,”

“You go hunting?” the older sister chimes in skeptically

Alastor’s eyes roll back so far they’re almost in the back of his head “Yes,”

“Sounds scary,” Brynn says, clutching her sister’s leg

Vera bends down “Yes, that’s where the crazies will drag you off to before they bump you off!” she shakes her sister’s shoulders

“AHHHHH!!” Brynn runs into the house the same way they came out as Vera laughs heartily and Alastor offers a bit of a chuckle

“You like to scare your sister?”

She rolls her eyes “She knows I’m just being goofy,”

“I don’t think she does,”

She waves him off “Psh,” Her laughter dies down and she clears her throat before looking at him, he’s staring at her, trying to read her expression. “What?”

He taps his cheek “You’re a swanky tomato,” he raises his eyebrow “Your whole family is,”

“And?” she asks

“Never seen that before,”

She tilts her head “People who are taken care of?”

“Rich coloreds,”

Vera shakes her head “We don’t like to call ourselves that,”

“Well everyone else will,”

“We are Black people, and that’s that.”

They stand in silence for a beat.

“I guess there’s nothing else to see,”

Vera shifts her weight, hands on her hip “Let’s address the elephant in the garden,”

“And that is?”

“We’ve met and you recognize me,”

He strokes his chin “Hmm, I don’t think I do,”

“You’re full of baloney. I saw it in your eyes. You remember me,”

“Hmm,” he continues playing dumb “Doesn’t ring a bell,”

Vera blinks dramatically before approaching Alastor “You mean to tell me that you don’t remember this face?”

He stares down at her smugly “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,”

“My face is unforgettable,”

“Then why can’t I remember it?” she can feel his breath on her face

“You’re just a liar,”

“Or maybe you aren’t as important as you think you are,” he smirks

She raises her voice “And just who are you?!”

“Alastor,” his smirk widens “Did you not hear my mother introduce me?”

“Quit yapping wise guy, you don’t know me,”

“I know rich people like you,”

She pushes him lightly “You don’t know anyone like me,” 

“Your kind is all the same,”

“What exactly is my kind?”

“Rich, uppity, pompous-“

Vera smirks “Sounds like you’re jealous that my family isn’t poor,”

His eyes turn dark “I’m not jealous of the money,”

“Then what’s eating you?” she radiates confident energy

“That even though you’re rich, you love to steal,”

She drops her arms dramatically “Give it a rest! I didn’t know they were for sale! I thought they were just growing on the street!”

“Ah yes, give someone stealing from our business a rest. You sound just like them,”

She rolls her eyes “What? What do you want? Do you want me to pay?” She reaches inside her purse and pulls out money “How much is it? One, two dollars?” she waves it in his face “What? Take it!”

“Are you sure you’re Black? Or are you white?”

“What? You keep bugging me about the flowers, so I’ll pay for them!” she waves the money

“It’s not just about the payment! It’s about how entitled you have to be to just take them without even thinking to ask!” He leans in toward her

“For fuck’s sake I made a mistake! I’m sorry!”

He crosses his arms “Are you sorry or are you just annoyed that I’m bringing it up?”

She groans “I’m sorry! That’s why I tried to give them back! You don’t think I was embarrassed?!”

“So you’re not sorry? You’re just embarrassed because you made a fool of yourself!”

“You didn’t know that you can feel two things at once?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not sorry,”

She steps up on her toes “Again, you don’t know me,” she squints

“I think I do, you’re a thief, just like a white person,”

Vera pokes him and he swats her hand away “Fuck you, I am not a thief,” she speaks in a hushed tone, his grin wide as ever, as if he’s taking pleasure from her irritation.

“Are you all still out here? It’s been a bit,” May sticks her head out of the back door “I made gumbo, do you two want some? I know you do Alastor,” she gives her son a warm smile

Alastor’s smile warms and shrinks “Of course I do Maman,”

“Well come on in! Of course, you are welcome to have some as well Miss Vera,”

Vera nods “Thank you,”

Both Vera and Alastor approach the door, Alastor grabbing it and holding it open for her and gesturing for her to walk inside, smiling the whole time

“Ladies first,” it rolls off his tongue and past his lips like a true gentleman

Vera holds her head high and her nose in the air as she walks past him, entering the house. He watches her from behind, hips swaying all the while. Alastor’s bottom lip slips up between his teeth before he follows her inside.

  _____________________________________________________

“You gave your sister the heebie-jeebies!”

“Daddy, it was a joke!”

“It does not matter, you don’t scare your little sister like that,”

“Okay, I’m sorry,”

“Don’t tell me, tell her,”

Steps are heard “Brynn, I’m sorry for telling you that crazy people are going to bump you off in the woods,”

Alastor could hear them talking from the backyard as he planted the flowers around the back door of the property that the Bates had purchased. Alastor found that while Vera had the utmost love for her family, it didn’t stop her from causing small mischief, including her morbid humor. This wasn’t the first time she’d scared her sister with one of her ‘jokes’. Alastor wipes his forehead, as he kneels on the ground patting and flattening the dirt. He happens to look up, seeing a curtain close quickly.

Alastor smirks to himself, sitting on the ground with his legs open. He looks down again, allowing her to look through the curtain again. He catches her this time, a light blush adorning her face when she pulls the curtain shut. 

Alastor hoists himself up and approaches the window, removing his gardening gloves to tap it. Vera opens the curtain and the blush on her cheeks rises when she sees how close he is to the glass. Her eyebrows go up, communicating to him silently as he waves for her to join him outside. The curtain closes and a few moments later she appears in the doorway.

“You got in trouble?” He slips his glove back on

She scoffs “No,”

“Sounds like it,” he flashes her a grin

“I think you just want me to get in trouble,”

“I would love that actually.” Alastor squats in front of her, planting the next flower

Vera’s dress almost touches the dirt, she stares down at Alastor as he sits on the ground, urging her to sit with him. She shakes her head vigorously before he shrugs and continues planting. 

“I don’t get in trouble very often,”

He doesn’t look up as he responds “So your daddy lets you do whatever you want huh?”

“Not exactly,”

He chuckles “With money comes privileges,”

Vera puts her hands on her hips “Privileges impeded by my gender,”

Alastor looks up at her “What? You a flapper?”

Vera shrugs and waves around her arms “Somewhat,”

“And just what does your daddy think about that?”

“My daddy supports the movement, but he says I shouldn’t dress like that because he doesn’t want me to draw attention to myself, and I told him ‘But daddy, I love attention’!”

“He doesn’t think you’re drawing attention to yourself now?”

Vers looks confused “What do you mean?”

He snickers “Nothing,”

“No, tell me,”

“You wearing your glad rags all over the place and your loud mouth,”

She rolls her eyes “Of course my mouth is an issue. But your mouth isn’t?”

“Nope,”

“Of course, and what’s the difference between you and me?

Alastor rolls up his sleeves “You’re ignorant?”

“You are a man,” she gestures toward him “Therefore you are automatically afforded more opportunities than I.”

“I am a poor man,” he corrects her “Not many opportunities would be coming my way. You are rich, which is guaranteed to open many doors for you,”

“My father is rich,” she corrected his correction “All the money is his. I have nothing to my name. If I were to head out into the world alone, I would have nothing. On the other hand, you may be poor, but if you were afforded some funds, you would be allowed to keep them. You don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything. You heard my father, even when I am to become a famous actress, I would have nowhere to keep my riches. They would go to my father or…”

“Your husband,” he finishes for her

“Indeed.”

“You have no idea what my situation affords me,” he points up at her “You are up there,” and touches his chest “And I am down here,”

Vera purses her lips “I suppose we both have disadvantages then. Can we agree on that?”

“Hmm…no,”

  _______________________________________________________

Vera stood with her arms out as May sewed the sleeves of the dress her mother had ordered for her. Vera felt the purple, green, and gold wasn’t exactly the greatest color combination against her skin, but who was she to go against Mardi Gras tradition? May sewed the sleeves to the correct size and length, she had clearly been working on this dress all night, as she’d heard her mother request it the day before and the bags under her eyes were evident. 

“And I think you are finished, Miss Vera. You may look in the mirror,”

She turns to the full-length mirror, revealing the gorgeous deep purple gown embroidered with golden beads at the top around the chest and the bust. The beads adorn the hemline as it draped over her ankles. Around the back, there was a deep green trimming attached to the waist, with golden beads on the bottom of it as well.

“This is gorgeous! You are the best seamstress in New Orleans, not that I have any frame of reference, but still,”

May is flattered “Why thank you, Miss Vera,” she goes to help Vera remove the dress

“You must be the best dressed at every party you go to with this skill,” 

May is slightly uncomfortable with the assumption that she attends parties. She doesn’t respond as she peels the dress off the younger woman’s body. 

“How many of these cute dresses do you have in your closet?” Vera tries to make conversation

The mother shakes her head “None, Miss,”

Vera raises her eyebrows “Really? I figured you’d have so many. If I could make dresses like this I’d constantly be the belle of the ball, how are you not taking advantage of such skill?”

May smiles at the girl, knowing she meant no harm “I don’t really have time to make dresses for myself Miss, or the money,”

“Money? You should be drowning in customers with work of this caliber. What’s stopping you?”

She sighs “Most seamstresses get work over the phone these days. Where I have to get the work in person,”

“You don’t have a phone?”

May shakes her head

“How much is a phone these days? 20? 30 dollars?”

“No ma’am it is about 14 dollars.”

“Oh? Is that all? Here,” Vera reaches into her coin purse and gives her a 50 dollar bill “This is for my dress,” she hands her two 50 dollar bills “And this is for the dress for yourself” She hands her two 20 dollar bills and a 10. “So all together that’s….” she thinks “200 dollars” Vera claps her hands in delight

“Oh, Miss Vera I can’t accept this,”

“May, please, this is a drop in the bucket for me. You see how easily I gave it to you? This money means much more to you than it would to me. Please, take the money, and make yourself a nice dress.” she touches the older woman’s shoulder “And get yourself a phone! So you can get more customers! More people need to know about your work”

The mother nods her head “Thank you,” and hangs up the dress

Vera turns to the mother “Say, were you upset by me taking the Azaleas?”

May isn’t sure if she’s allowed to tell the truth, she doesn’t want to offend the poor girl, or her parents “Oh no, of course not,”

“Please tell me the truth,”

May tilts her head “Well, it was a bit irksome, but I don’t hold it against you. I know that you didn’t know that we sold them.”

“I do sincerely apologize for that, it’s a habit I’m trying to break. My father always has to remind me,”

“It’s quite alright Miss,”

She drops her head “Thank you,”

May starts putting away her supplies “What made you want to ask?”

Vera shakes her head “Oh nothing,”

“Tell me the truth dear,”

“Well, your son called me a thief,”

The mother furrows her brows “Oh Alastor? Do not worry your pretty head about it. He’s protective of the flowers. You did nothing wrong, the only thing he’s more protective over is me,” she waves her off “Don’t think about a thing he says. I’ll talk to him about it,”

“Oh you don’t have to, I just wanted to make sure it was all well with you,”

“It’s alright thank you, Miss,”

“Alastor,” May called for her son

He wipes his hands as he approaches her from outside “Yes Maman?”

“I was talking to Miss Vera and she said that you called her a thief?”

Alastor blushes and looks away “Oh…”

“Did you say that?”

He rubs the back of his neck “I suppose I did,”

May’s palm connects with the side of Alastor’s head “What is wrong with you? Is that how I taught you to treat ladies? And a client at that? Just ‘cuz they ain’t white doesn’t mean you can act up,” 

“I was just joking around Maman,”

“Don’t ‘I was just joking’ me Alastor, you need to watch yourself. I know you’re grown, but this could affect our business, okay?”

“Okay,”

“Thank you, sweetie,”

Alastor lingers in the room “What else did you two talk about?”

She raises her eyebrow “Is that any of your business?”

“I just want to know what you Janes were talking about,”

She purses her lips “We just discussed me buying a phone to get more clients,”

“Where are we getting a phone from?”

His mother pulls out the money from her purse “The Miss gave me some money for it,” she puts it back in her purse “Though I may use it for extra groceries. Or we could get a new icebox,”

Alastor is shocked “A new icebox?!”

His mother nods “She paid me for the dress, gave me money for a phone and enough to make a dress for myself, though I don’t know where I’d even wear a nice dress like the one I made for her,”

“You don’t find that odd Maman?” He crosses his arms “We don’t wanna be taken for saps?”

“Don’t be a killjoy Alastor, the Miss is such a nice girl, why are you being like that?” her eyes soften “Alastor?”

He looks at his mother, confused by her tone.

“Are you stuck on Miss Vera?” 

He blushes hot “Stuck on her theft, yes,”

She puts her hands on her hips “Alastor?”

“Maman?”

“Level with me please,”

He looks away from her “I suppose that she is….pretty spiffy,”

“Aww baby,” May cups her son’s cheek “This is your first crush,” she caresses his cheek “If you like a lady,” she slaps the side of his head again “Charm her, don’t bother her!”

Alastor taps Vera’s shoulder while their parents discuss payment. She turns to him rolling her eyes.

“Yes?”

“What are you playing at?”

Vera’s expression is mixed with confusion and annoyance “To what are you referring?”

Alastor’s lips form a straight line “Giving my mother extra money? She’s not some project, and we’re not a charity case,” he says, completely serious

Vera stares at him, full of disbelief “Are you screwy?” she asks in complete sincerity “What kind of poor person complains about getting more money?”

He looks away “I just don’t want to feel like an experiment,”

Vera looks disgusted “I enjoy your mother’s company.” She speaks with her back to him “She’s a charming woman. I think she deserves to have a phone of all things. If I can make her life easier, then I shall. It’s the least I can do when my family relies on her labor. It just so happens that I am in a fortunate situation where it costs me very little to be kind. And even if it cost me much, such a wonderful woman, deserves something wonderful for herself.” She turns to face him “So no, I am not out to get your mother or you, and I resent the accusation.” Her brows are furrowed and she wears a deep scowl to show her displeasure. 

  “Spend time with your own mother,”

“I do.” she looks around “What’s eating you? Why are you treating me like I’m the opposite of a gold digger?”

“I don’t need some lousy dame who thinks she’s the cat’s meow giving my Maman and I the run-around,”

Vera tilts her head “Maman?”

Alastor blushes “My mother,” he mumbles

“Is that what you call her?”

“And what about it?” he gets defensive

Vera puts her arms behind her back “That’s cute,”

His eyes widen and he drops his guard. Alastor opens his mouth to respond when his mother calls for him.

“Alastor! Come on, unless you want to stay here with Miss Vera!” she jokes

Alastor blushes deeper, looking back at the young woman “Bye,”

Vera pouts her lips “See you tomorrow,” she says batting her lashes.

___________________________________________

Vera woke up to the scent of baked goods, she danced down the staircase to find her entire family in the kitchen, May by the stove just finishing some pastries with powdered sugar. She had prepared pancakes, eggs, hash browns, french toast, bacon, sausage, and grits.

She took a seat at the table, her entire family in their sleepwear. Alastor enters the kitchen, heading for the back door.

“Pardon me,” he states, passing by the table

“Say son, did you eat any breakfast?” Cassius questioned

Alastor turns “No sir, I figured I’d get right to work,”

Vera felt a bit exposed wearing her nightgown in front of a fully dressed Alastor, but she knew better than to give him that satisfaction.

“Sit down! Enjoy a meal why don’t ya? You don’t wanna work yourself to the bone! Your mother’s made a delightful meal! Pull up a chair!”

Alastor forces a smile “Oh I’d rather not, I think I’ll get started early,”

Cassius widens his eyes “I insist,”

May gives her son a look

Alastor exhales, removing his gardening gloves and sitting in an empty chair, far from everyone else.

“Why don’t you move closer?” Daphne suggests

“I’m fine here,”

The Bates family collectively stares at him and his mother shoots him a glare. Alastor reluctantly drags the chair across the floor, slowly and loudly until reaching the table. Once reaching the table, he finally takes a seat.

Cassius clears his throat “I hope that didn’t leave any dents in the floor,” he snaps in May’s direction “When you’re finished with that, take a look at it would you May?”

“Of course,” she says not looking at the man, instead shooting her son a slight glare

Cassius turns back to Alastor, “So son, tell us about yourself,”

“What would you like to know?”

“Do you have an intended?” Daphne smirks as May puts the food on the table in front of the Bates “A young man your age should be thinking about marriage,”

May stands behind her son and lightly taps his back

Alastor ‘ahems’ “Oh no, I haven’t been interested in any women,” Cassius, Daphne, and Vera give him wide eyes, while Brynn reaches for the eggs and fails. May taps her son’s back harder “Or men, of course,” She pushes her son’s head and returns to the stove “But, I have never thought about it,”

“Well, you should! It’s usually around now when young men start courting!” Daphne gives him a grin

“Yes you’re right,” Alastor turns to the youngest Bates “Brynn, may I have your hand?” he jokes, holding out his palm

Brynn dropped her fork and gasped “Yes!” grabbing his fingers with incredibly sticky ones

The rest of the company laugh, Cassius laughing particularly loud as Alastor pulls his hands away, wiping them on the napkin that May handed him. Vera, on the other hand, is not laughing. She does not understand the comedy behind it. She keeps a straight face as May places the square pastries in the middle of the table.

“What is that?”

May turns to her “Hmm?”

“The things you just put on the table,”

“Oh! Those are beignets!”

Vera is confused “What’s a beignet?”

Alastor swallows his eggs and dusts off his hands “They’re a bit like French donuts,”

Vera chuckles “You have egg on your face,”

Alastor raises his brow “Hmm?”

“No, literally,”

Alastor turns to his mother, who points at her own chin, signaling where the food sticks. Alastor blushes and wipes his face with a napkin. Vera giggles and Cassius and Daphne slightly grimace.

“Hmm, how…simple,” The father comments

“Quite,” his wife agrees

Cassius “Oh May, you’ve made enough food, why don’t you join us over here,”

“Of course,” She stands behind her son’s chair

Alastor puts his head down, seeing Vera’s arm reaching past him for a beignet. He watches her wrap her lips around the pastry, licking the powdered sugar from her lips. He feels her pull her foot back and it brushes against his leg on its way to her chair. As the adults continue talking, Alastor reaches his foot toward her, lightly tapping her slipper with his shoe. Her head snaps up.

“Everything alright sweetheart?”

She shakes her head “Sorry, I thought I felt something on me,” she glances at Alastor who gives a sly smirk, letting her know his intentions. They continue the conversation and Vera taps Alastor’s shoe with her foot, to test out her theory, and feels his foot graze her ankle. She was right! He did it on purpose! She rubs his ankle back with her foot, taking it as a challenge, while he pokes her with his toes. She lightly kicks him and he raises his foot her calf slowly. The blush on Vera’s face makes her skin her favorite color and she does the same to him. This time, however, she feels his foot go up much higher on her leg, lifting the hemline of her nightgown much higher, over her knee-

“Mommy! Daddy! Vera is foot wrestling with the garden boy!”

Vera reaches over the table to pinch her sister but is then pinched herself by her mother “Ow!” she rubs her arm 

“You don’t pinch your sister!” Daphne reprimands her older daughter

Cassius clears his throat “Perhaps son, you should get to work,”

“Of course sir,” he says, dragging his foot back down slowly and standing up from the table.

Vera watches him exit through the back door, finally noticing how his trousers fit his legs.

      ______________________________________________________

“You all are going to the Mardi Gras parade, right?”

Alastor turns to the voice talking to him and it’s Vera standing in an outside dress, covering her arms, as the thin material did nothing to shelter her from the cool breeze. He lowered the shears to respond to her.

“You know your daddy will be on my ass if I don’t get this work done,”

Vera shrugs “So get it done,” she states plainly

“I would, but a little doll keeps distracting me,”

She stares up at him, over her glasses and he stares down under his

“Look at me over your cheaters all you want, I got a job to do,” he returns to the branches

Vera stands beside him and looks at his face as he prunes the branches “Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Going to the parade,”

He clamps the shears shut over the dead branch “We’re gonna swing by one of them,”

“One?” she seems confused

“Yeah,” he glances down at her and grins “You didn’t think there was only one did you?”

She blushes. She did think that. “My family is going to the one run by the Krewe of Iris, my mother is a member,”

“Oh?” He lowers the shears “Is that why you all requested those ritzy-looking clothes?” she nods “This is their first year,”

“Oh,” she says, leaving a beat of silence “Which one are you going to?”

“Krewe of Endymion, and no I’m not a member. I like to watch,”

“What are you going to wear?”

He raises his brow “Probably nothing very different from what I’ve got on right now,”

Vera looks shocked “What? You’re going to wear that?! Your mother’s a seamstress, why not wear something nice?!”

Alastor places the shears on the ground and turns to face her directly, he puts his gloved hand on her shoulder and she flinches a bit. He sets his brows and his lips in a line “I want to make something clear to you. Some of us, namely my mother and I, do not have everything you do. And we do not have the time, the money, or the resources to get them because we’re working for fat cats like your daddy just to survive,”

Vera had no idea what to say to that, at that moment, all she could feel was the warmth on her cheeks and the weight of Alastor’s hand on her shoulder. Without his eyes leaving hers, he lowered his hand down to her arm. The wind blows as his hand travels down to capture her silk-covered fingers.

“Do you dislike me?” she asks

“No,” he responds, the winds perfectly combing through his hair “I do however, dislike your talks of your possessions and your ignorance. But what I dislike the most,” he steps closer “is your father getting in the way,”

“In the way of what?” she asked, her chest unexpectedly warming and her stomach shockingly flipping.

He gives her a giant silly grin and puts her hair behind her ear. The gesture is useless, as the wind blew her hair back, but her skin tingled regardless.

“Vera!” she turns to see her mother at the back door “Let that boy do his work! Should you not be in here studying your mathematics?”

Vera doesn’t look back as she answers the call, walking back to the house and to her mother. When she steps into the door frame, Cassius comments on the leaves and dirt on Vera’s sleeve, giving a dirty look to Alastor in the backyard.

Alastor takes a long blink and picks the shears up once more. This time, however, when he cuts off the dead branches and watches them fall, he imagines that he’s cutting Mr. Bates’s neck and watching his head fall with a thud.

__________________________________________

Vera knocks on the front door of the house. “May?” she calls inside “It’s me, it’s Vera! My father sent me over?” she knocks a few more times, standing on the small porch, waiting before the door swung open with force and Alastor stood behind it. Vera’s cheeks warmed “Oh, hello,” she wiggled her gloved fingers

“What’s up?” His expression seems somewhat dark as he leans on the doorframe

“I thought your mother was here,” she says, not really answering the question

He crosses his arms “She is not,”

Vera blinks “Is she coming back?”

“Hopefully,”

Vera stares past the man and into the house, blinking rapidly.

Alastor glances behind him “Would you like to come inside?”

She nods “Yes, please,” he moves out of the frame to allow her to walk in before him, and he closes the door behind them. Once inside, he makes a beeline for the living room, where music can be heard playing.

“What brings you here?”

Vera chuckles “I volunteered to come over to give your Mama the money for the rest of the year, but I suppose I can give it to you,” her gloves are white as snow, and she removes her hat and hands him the wad of cash “What are you listening to?”

“WWL,” he responds, sitting up

“Hmm,” she says, trailing her fingers over the couch 

Alastor leans back with his head against the wall “I know you don’t care much for radio, but I don’t need to hear it right now,”

“It’s not that I don’t care for it,” she comes closer to the young man “I just don’t understand the urge to be on it,” she chuckles “Tell me,”

He turns to her “Hmm?”

“Tell me why you want to do radio,”

She stands over him as he sits up in place “Well, radio stars are the pinnacle of celebrity,”

“And?”

He doesn’t know what to say “And…everybody listens,”

“Mhmm? Is that all?”

Alastor shakes his head “No, you don’t understand. Everybody listens. Not just some people, everybody. Radio hosts and late-night stories have everyone on the edge of their seats, hanging onto every word they say. To the point where people don’t even get up to use the toilet for fear of missing what will come out of their mouth next. The people are gripped, practically chained to it. They don’t miss a single broadcast, at least, I don’t. I want to do that. I want to be that because I need to know that when I talk, there’s always someone who will listen,” He had started staring out the window as he spoke, but he turned back to Vera when he finished and saw the tears almost fall out of her eyes, he looks away in embarrassment. “It’s not sad, I don’t know why you’re doing that,”

“I’m sorry,”

His neck snaps with how fast he turns to her “What?”

“I’m so sorry. For the things I said when we met. That was the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in my whole life. I think I’ve been moved by your words. Honestly,”

Alastor blushes “I don’t think that it was that serious,”

“I didn’t mean those things anyway,” she went on “I only said it because I got my feelings hurt,” she smiled awkwardly 

“What did I say that hurt your feelings?” 

She tilts her head “Well… you laughed at me and implied that being an actress is a useless pipe dream,”

“Right…” Alastor readjusts himself “Well, why do you want to do acting?”

“Well, I want to be seen. The same way you want to be heard, when you’re on the stage and you see the crowd, they paid to be there. So you know they want you, want to see you. I want that to be me,” she clenches her fists as she imagines herself on the stage, spotlights on her in the center, with the audience’s undivided attention. There’s a glimmer in her eyes as she tells him this, one that tells him she means every single word of it.

His expression softens a lot “Wow, you’re so beautiful,” she looks back at him, her thoughts broken “Well, that was so beautiful,”

“Yes, I suppose so,” she places with the ends of her hair. 

The two of them sit in comfortable silence, with her staring off into the distance and him staring at her. At a random moment, she snaps back into reality.

“Well, I should get going, my parents are expecting me,” she snickers, replacing her hat “And I don’t think my father likes you very much,” she laughs, but Alastor doesn’t find it funny

Alastor doesn’t want her to leave, and her father was getting on his last nerve. As she exited the living room, he made quick strides to black the front door, as he had come up with an idea. One to get a secret one up on Mr. Bates and to make sure that even if she left, a piece of her would always be here, with him.

“Don’t leave just yet,” he puts on his celebrity smile as she pulls back slightly shocked at his appearance in front of the door

She smiles nervously “Do you need something?”

“Well yes, I need you to come see something with me,”

“Where?” she questions

“Follow me,”

She could decline, or insist on heading back home, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to. “Fine,”

He leads her out the back door and into the woods behind the house. Not very deep, however, more like where a child would play. She did her best to not get dirt on her blouse, skirt, or gloves, as it would be very difficult to hide. When he stopped it was in front of a small structure made of wood that if one squinted, they could say it looked like a house.

“Ta-da!”

Vera tilts her head “What am I looking at?”

Alastor chuckles “It’s a fort,” 

It amuses her “For a child,” she snickers “Did you build this?”

“With my own two hands, my dear,”

She crouches “When? When you were a boy?” she laughs

It has enough room to fit them both, but only if they lie down….on top of each other. She looks back at him

“Indeed,” he grins

“This is adorable but, why did you bring me here?” she questions

Alastor pulls her back by her waist and she blushes at being held there. He crouches and kneels, removing his jacket and laying it on the floor of the fort.

“Go on in,”

“Are you screwy?”

“Trust me, go in,”

She shakes her head with disbelief and chooses to trust him. She crouches once more and enters the tiny fort, Alastor entering behind her. There is more space than she thought, but not by much. She fit inside fully, but Alastor was so tall that his feet threatened to stick out of the door. Vera giggles at the sight. Alastor smiles at the sound of her giggle and removes her hat.

“Miss Bates?”

She flutters her lashes “Yes?”

“Have you ever…been with a man?”

The blush overtakes her face and she covers her mouth with her gloved hands. Alastor grabs her hands and pulls them back down to her lap, waiting for an answer

“Is that an…appropriate topic?”

He stares over his lenses “I thought you were a flapper at heart,”

“I-“ she looks away, embarrassed slightly “I am, but-“ she closes her eyes, trying not to giggle anymore

“But?” he goads her

“Well, I haven’t been with any men, but…” she pushes some of her hair back “I have…done things with some of my friends.”

“What kind of things?” He raises his brow

“Like with our fingers?” She bites her lip in embarrassment

Alastor raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes “So you haven’t tried the newest trend?”

“What trend?” she looks interested

Alastor leans in “The trend where you have a man taste what’s between your legs?” he smirks, he lids his eyes at her

Vera’s face quickly turns pink “I-I’ve never heard of that..” she stammers

“It’s a new thing, cher. All the free-thinking women are doing it. Isn’t that what you stand for?”

She glances to the side “Well, yes, but I don’t know if we should be talking about this.”

“Don’t you believe in equal rights for women?”

“Of course I do!”

“Doesn’t that include sexual freedom?” he leans toward her

“Well, yes but-“

“Then why don’t we try it? It’s supposed to represent a role reversal of the subjugation of women.”

Vera’s breath starts to get heavy, thinking about the man in front of her being between her legs. She also started feeling hot in the space he was asking to taste. She knew that this wasn’t the first time she had thought about Alastor this way, but now that he was asking, it all felt so real. She wasn’t sure if she was still too young for this kind of thing. She was 19 and they weren’t married. This moment had shown its face in all her fantasies, and now she had the chance to make it true. She was a young, free woman goddammit! She could make her own decisions, including who and what goes between her legs! And besides, who said her future husband ever had to know?

“Okay, but you’ll be gentle right?” She looks up at him through her lashes

He crawls towards her, thinking about how pretty she looks right now “Of course,” he whispers against her lips before connecting with them. He kisses her with passion, and although she is startled, she quickly sinks into it; running her hands up his chest and landing around his neck. Allowing his tongue to enter her mouth and him to press her up against the wall to the small area. Her heat pooled underneath her long skirt, full of anticipation for what was coming next. 

Alastor pulled back from the kiss, only for Vera to pull him back in, once, twice, three times. He smirks and licks his bottom lip. “I promise it will be worth it ma chérie.” He gives her a few more small kisses before descending and lifting up her skirt to go under it. She felt him pull down her tights and panties halfway down, then felt his warm breath on her heat. Her breath hitched in her throat as he planted a light kiss on her wet heat. She laid back waiting for something else to happen.

Alastor slides his tongue into her vagina, Vera is shocked by the sensation of the intrusion. At first, it felt strange, but then it started to feel good. The feeling of his wet tongue on the inside of her wet core was something magical. He begins to massage the nerves inside her with the curve of his tongue, and each curve and twist had Vera making a symphony of moans in different octaves. Alastor stayed inside of her for what must have been an hour, but it was entirely too short for him. He was tasting paradise and did not want to leave. 

When he did remove his tongue he made his way to her clit, Alastor licked and flitted with it. Vera starts moaning at the sudden influx of pleasure. He drags his tongue around and around her clit, then begins sucking on the bud. Her moans get louder and louder, so she has to cover her mouth to avoid being heard by anyone else who might be in the woods. He sucks the bud like his life depended on it; like he needed this little bean to survive. Vera couldn’t help but moan louder and louder as the pleasure built up inside of her. She bites on one of her fingers to keep the volume of her voice down. The volume of her voice grows louder and louder, the longer he sucks on her clit. Her breath is growing heavier than before. She looks down at him, not knowing what else to do while feeling this, and sees his arm sitting up, palm open. She grabs his hand and grips it, squeezing her thighs around his head, as the knot in her gut grows tighter and tighter. Alastor uses his lips to pull on her clit and the knot snaps as she is overwhelmed with pleasure, she begins moaning at the top of her lungs.

Alastor comes from under her skirt and embraces her in another passionate kiss, swallowing her moans. She wraps her arms around him as he lowers her onto the coat he laid under her. He lays on top of her, kissing and feeling her as she rides out her first manmade orgasm.

It may have looked awkward when she finally did leave, her face fully red while trying not to smile, and the gigantic smirk on his face. He tried for a goodbye kiss as she walked out the door, but she simply placed her hand on his chest and silently walked out. He was right in his plan. She’d left her taste with him, and nobody, not even her father could take that from him.

Imagine his surprise when his mother called him down on her way out one morning, telling him that he had mail. He tore open the envelope with confusion, only to have to fight the gigantic grin from crawling onto his face as he read it.

Dear Alastor,

Hello, this is Vera Bates. I’m not sure if you know any other Vera’s. Ha ha!

Anyway, I will just get to the point and say that I can not stop thinking about you and…

what we did.

Oh, I’m so embarrassed just thinking about it. I can feel my face turning red. Ha ha!

Anyway, I was hoping that we could write until we see each other again. I don’t think I want my father to hear me on the phone, haha.

Write back, please.

Love, Vera

Immediately he went to find a pen and paper to respond. 

Dear Vera,

Hello to you as well! This is Alastor, haha!

I hope all is well with you, my dear. What we did is on my mind as well, and I am hoping that perhaps we could do something

like it again? If I am allowed to be so forward with you Miss Bates. Catch me up on your adventures in New York City!

I’d love to hear more about your Broadway dreams. And maybe other types of dreams…about me?

It is an honor to write to you.

Sincerely, Alastor

He smirked as he wrote the letter, knowing it would make her blush. They went back and forth like this for the rest of the year. Eager to see her once again and perhaps continue what they’d started, he was up bright and early, ready for the day the Bates came back. But she didn’t come that year, or the next. Her parents did, but Vera was absent, and the letters had stopped too. Of course, he had made it all up in his head, he wasn’t even sure if what he was feeling was real. He had never felt this before, in his entire life. He could have asked her parents about her, but that would be admitting that he cared, and he didn’t so, he did his job and left—day in and day out until the Bates were gone. 

[ieatcocoa]

Interested in reading a story about this stinky deer? You should check out my own on AO3 !

Human!Alastor/Reader

Synopsis: You, a victim of forced relocation, head south in search of a potential job opportunity. Never would you have expected to get caught up with the likes of New Orleans favorite radio host. Perhaps it was fate?

Currently there’s two chapters out! Chapter three is in the works.

[artemisgrayy]

It was also made for smoochin imo

--

✨ Masterlist ✨

[tayraedoll]

Mine for the Taking

Yandere Alastor in rut with innocent reader. Alastor is a manipulative shit and you are all too trusting. 18+ MDNI

Part 2

Word count: 3301

TW: Alastor is his own warning, breeding kink, creampie, scent marking, mating cycles, p in v intercourse, possessive Alastor, oral (fem receiving), blood, pregnancy trapping, manipulation, one swear word I think?

Alastor has a plan for you. You do not know it yet, but YOU. ARE.HIS.

You have been his ever since you stepped foot in the hotel all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You were newly spawned in Hell, Charlie found you in an alleyway scared and all alone so she immediately gave you refuge at her hotel. And how could she not? You were so sweet and so vulnerable, a complete enigma in Hell. Charlie was certain you would be quick to redeem. Too bad Alastor will never let them happen.

He has been completely enraptured with you since your first meeting. For one, you were a little doe which was a rarity in Hell. But it was your aura of pure innocence that ultimately drew him in. There was no reason for someone like you to have ended up in Hell, you committed no sins in your life. For Alastor, that left just one explanation for your damnation- you were sent here to be his.

Alastor has been in hell for nearly a century; in that time he has acquired status, power, and wealth. For a time, these things were enough to make him happy. But as the years drew on, he started to become quite lonely though he would never admit it aloud. Loneliness was a weakness, he vowed to never feel such a pathetic emotion; but the loneliness crept up on him slowly until it infiltrated his mind every time he found himself without company. At first, he visited Rosie to quell the thirst for companionship and that worked for a while. But overtime even his best companion could not relieve the ache in his heart. The hotel residents did little to provide any solace for him, in fact he could barely stand being around most of them for long. Until you joined their ranks.

With you, Alastor was finally freed from the constant pang in his chest. You immediately accepted him as he was- never casting any judgement on his dark deeds despite what the other hotel residents told you. In fact, you never spoke ill of anyone. You were just too good for Hell, and he will do anything to protect that innocence.

Alastor started bonding with you over books, often catching you in the library. Soon, it became a routine to spend quiet evenings together discussing your favorite stories. That is where he learned of your passion for knowledge, so eager to learn everything you could about anything and everything. This was a quality he admired but also became troublesome for him. You were eager to learn about your deer form, wanting to know how the animal aspect of your being would affect you going forward. When he caught you looking for books on the subject he was immediately irritated that you would not just come to him for the answers you sought. So in retribution for your unwitting transgression he got rid of every book about all cervid forms in hell. He wanted all your knowledge about yourself to come from him, and there were certain parts he wanted to remain hidden.

The demon buck did not tell you about the mating season, did not explain that you would go into heat and he a rut. This gap in your knowledge was by his design. He wanted to ensure there was no way for you to prepare yourself for the season, he meticulously plotted to make you his and it would be tremendously less dramatic if you were unaware of the consequences of what that entailed.

Now, finally, the mating season was upon you both. Alastor could feel the early signs of his rut, made more obvious to him due to the presence of a doe he wished to court. He'd scoured several trees in his bayou, getting all the velvet off his antlers and marking his territory, and he was feeling more aggressive. Just the other day he nearly skewered Angel Dust on a tentacle for a crude remark made in your presence. But the most telltale sign of his upcoming rut was the constant need to be around you, to both protect you from potential threats and ensure that potential competition knew you were spoken for. The moment you showed signs of estrus he would put his plan into action.

Alastor made his way to the kitchen early in the morning to make breakfast for everyone. He had carefully put together a fat and carb-rich meal for you knowing that is what you will crave as your body prepares for breeding and pregnancy. He was just finishing buttering your toast when you entered the kitchen.

"Good morning Al!", you say in your cheery, upbeat tone.

"Good morning Darling! How are you on this lovely day?", he responds as he hands the plate over to you, looking you over as he does so for any sign of change in your usual demeanor.

"Doing well. Thank you for breakfast, I am starved this morning!", you reply as you eagerly dig into the food. 'An increased appetite is a good sign',he notes mentally.

"Ah! Always happy to provide My Dear! Do let me know if you require anything else." You spend the rest of breakfast making small talk until he has to start his duties as hotelier. Before he leaves, however, he orders his shadow to stay close to you and let him know what other changes are seen throughout the day.

The morning passed silently, but come afternoon, his shadow finally reported back to him. You were in the main living area participating in Charlie's trust exercises, but you were obviously distracted and restless. Your leg kept bouncing under you, your ears constantly swiveling around at the smallest sounds, and you were having a hard time paying attention to what the others were saying. You also frequently excused yourself to use the restroom and that got progressively worse throughout the day. Normally, you would join the others at the bar for a drink after the activities concluded, but today you excused yourself saying you wanted some alone time. Alastor jumped out of his seat- restlessness, isolation, and frequent urination were telltale signs of a doe in heat. You were ready, it was time to make his move.

The demon buck shadowed away to your room and used his mic to tap on the door. The moment you opened the door all his suspicions were confirmed. You smelled absolutely divine; honey-lemon and cedarwood invaded his nostrils and he flared them, taking a deep breath that caused the sweet scent to go straight to his cock as it twitched. He cared not for formalities or manners as he pushed passed you into your room. Scanning the area, he noticed that you had made a nest using blankets and pillows in the space between your bed and the wall; the final box ticked on the list of doe in estrus behaviors- bedding in unusual places.

"Can I help you Alastor? I'm sorry, I am not feeling well and I do not want to get you sick", you look up at him with your beautiful, large doe eyes.

"Yes, my dear, you can help me. In fact, you are the only one who can", he speaks slowly, setting his trap. You are a people-pleaser, always eager to help others out and putting your own needs on a backburner. How easy it is to use that delightful little quality against you.

"What is it Al? What do you need?" you plead, desperately wanting to help your friend.

Alastor paused for a bit, formulating the best way to pose his request as he slowly untied his bowtie to better let his pheromones invade your space. "Will you let me protect you Little One?"

"Huh?" you furrowed your brow in confusion, your body subconsciously leaning forward to get a better whiff of him.

The buck began to circle you slowly, starting with wide circles that gradually got smaller with each pass so he slowly go closer to you. "My sweet doe, that feeling you currently have- that hunger in your belly, that dizziness in your head- it's because you are in heat; just like all little does like you are this time of year. I did not tell you about it because I did not want to alarm you, I was not certain the extent of which you would be affected. But with your heat, you are extremely vulnerable. There are many brutish bucks out there who would just love to take advantage of you in this state", he stops in front of you and holds your cheek tenderly in one hand. Your heart is pounding, your large eyes fixed on him with a hint of fear in their depths as you lean into his gentle caress. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you; you are much too precious to me and everyone else here. It would make me feel better if you would allow me to be your protector. I'd never let anyone harm you, I swear it." To drive his sentiment home his other hand came up to cup your other cheek as he leans his forehead against yours in a soothing and intimate display of affection.

His proximity and unexpected admission left you dizzy. He smelled so good, musky and savory like moss and spice, and you were starting to hope his hands would wander elsewhere on your body. You were suddenly surrounded by him and yet not consumed by him enough. "Yes, please be my protector Alastor. You are the only one I trust to keep me safe", you say as you raise your hands to his wrists and grasp them like a lifeline.

His smile widens, he has you exactly where he wants you. His victory is so close he can taste it. "Seal it with a deal Mon Cher, it is the best way. Through a soul bond I will always be able to find you, help you whenever you are in need." He stands up straight again and places a finger under your chin to lift your face to his. "I promise to take good care of it, to take good care of you." He extends his hand out slowly, as if moving too fast would frighten you away. You do not even hesitate, taking his hand immediately as if selling your soul was the easiest thing you would ever do.

"It's a deal." There is a brief flash of green, Alastor's smile is so wide it threatens to burst at the seams.

"Lovely!", the demon replies as he shadow portals you both to his own room. "Now, how about a drink to celebrate this new union?" He takes a bottle of red wine off a shelf at his desk and conjures two wine glasses. "I have been saving this little beauty for a special occasion. 1982 Chateau Lafite Rothschild Premier Cru Classe, one of the best from Bordeaux, France." He poured the wine out and handed you a glass. You thanked him and sipped it eagerly, it tasted like berries and currants and had a smoky, cigar smell. If Alastor were a wine, you were sure this would be it. You hummed in approval and drank your glass eagerly, completely unaware of the crimson irises that watched you intently.

You set your emptied glass on the table and studied the decor in the room, most notably the alligator skeleton hung on the wall. When you turn back around Alastor is right behind you; you gasp, not having heard him approach. His scent invades you senses again and heat starts to pool in your belly as your mind gets fuzzy. Before you even know what you are doing you have placed your hand on his chest, playing with his shirt buttons. He cups your cheek again, and leans in to capture your lips with his in a heated kiss.

The kiss is your undoing, as you wrap your arms around the much taller demons neck, letting out a lewd moan. You need more, you feel the need to be absolutely devoured by him. He runs his hands down your back, over the swell of your ass, and along the backs of your thighs where he hooks them over his hips. You clasp your ankles together around him as he carries you over to the bed.

He deposits you gently on the mattress and follows you down, keeping his weight on his forearms on either side of you. Alastor breaks the kiss to begin trailing his lips down your throat, burying his nose and inhaling deeply at the sensitive patch of skin right below your ear. A deep growl rips up from his chest that makes you shudder underneath him, goosebumps raising all along your skin.

Propping himself up on one arm, he trails his free hand down your body, cupping your breast through your shirt momentarily before moving his hand beneath your shirt. He gently tickles the soft, sensitive skin of your belly with his claws before grasping your fleshly mounds again, earning himself a whine from you as you begin to grind your hips up into him.

Unsatisfied with the lack of skin contact, he uses his claws to slice straight through your shirt and bra in one motion before snapping his own jacket and shirt away. You take a moment to admire the little tuft of fur on his chest, running your fingers through its silken layers before he leans down and captures one nipple in his mouth. You whine and squeeze his head in your arms, his fingers tweaking the other nipple. "Such a pretty little doe, behaving so well for me. Tell me, Mon Cher, what is it that you want?"

"I want you to touch me please", you whine desperately, face heating up slightly.

Alastor chuckles,"I am touching you! Is this all you want?" He rubs his thumbs over your nipples in slow, deliberate circles. You can feel the sensation down in your core.

"No, I want you to touch me...lower", you are gasping by this point, face red with embarrassment.

"Use your words Mon Cher, where exactly do you want me to touch you?", he teasingly runs a finger down your abdomen, stopping at the waistband on your sweatpants.

"I...I want you to touch my clit, and stick your fingers inside my pussy!", you spit out as fast as you can and hide your face behind your arms.

"My my Mon Cher! How delightfully vulgar! Such a good girl, and good girls get exactly what they want." He moves your arms from your face. "Eyes on me darling, do not look away. Think you can handle that?"

You nod and rest your hands above your head as Alastor swiftly removes your pants and panties in one swipe. You fight the urge to cross your legs, as if hearing your thoughts Alastor wraps his arms around your thighs and pins them to the bed with your already dripping cunt bared to him. Your face heats up as you watch him stare at your core for a moment before he plants sloppy, wet kisses up your inner thigh. Without warning he bites down on the sensitive flesh, eliciting a scream from you as you clench your eyes shut from the potent pain and pleasure cocktail.

Alastor immediately lets go of your thigh and growls out "Open your eyes!" With a bit of effort, you manage to open your eyes again and lock onto his wild, carmine gaze. Satisfied with your compliance, he gently laps at the wound to soothe it and clean up the droplets of blood that pooled there before dragging his tongue north where you wanted him. Your heart was beating so erratically you thought you were having a heart attack.

You squeal the second his tongue connects with your puffy clit, your legs trying to clamp shut but being unable to move due to Alastor's weight on your thighs. You do not dare look away from the man, afraid of what he would do should you earn his ire. He eats you out like it is his last meal, alternating between circling and sucking your clit before plunging his long, hot tongue into your depths. You tremble within his arms, the coil in your belly tightening faster than you ever thought possible. Your enhanced senses pick up every lewd, wet sound, the smell of your own arousal, and the site of his tongue disappearing into your folds. It was all too much, the coil snapped with a force that made your body fold at the waist as your shoulders shot off the mattress; your throat let out a strangled scream of his name.

The demon buck does not give you a second to recover as he climbs back over you, pushing you back into the mattress. His lips claim yours, making you taste your own bodily nectar as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers. Before you even realize that he was aligned with your entrance he was pushing into you earning another gasp from your lips that he greedily swallows. He gives you minimal time to adjust before he grunts and begins thrusting into you at a punishing pace. He pulls away from your lips to rub his cheeks along yours, the sensation making you melt into the mattress as his pheromones overtake your mind.

"Tell me you're mine. Whose doe are you?! Tell me!!", he snarls into your ear.

"Yours, I'm all yours Alastor. I'll only ever belong to you!", you cry out as tears begin streaming down your face. Your admission earns you his fingers playing with your clit again, sending you hurtling towards the edge again.

"Look at you, so perfect on my cock. I am going to claim this pussy in every way possible. Your womb is mine to fill with MY seed. You will make the perfect mother to my fawns." His pace turns sloppy as you clench hard around his shaft, your mind too fucked out to comprehend his words as you moan underneath him. Your nails rake down his back, raising angry lines along the contours of his musculature. His thumb presses hard into your clit, riding the edge between pleasure and pain. By this point your whole body was vibrating, every nerve ending lit up in white hot pleasure. "Cum for me Mon Cher. Cum for me and take my seed and don't you dare waste a drop!"

His words were your undoing, like the obedient little doe you were you came hard around him. With one final, powerful thrust he painted your walls white with his spend; your cunt avariciously drank his seed up.

Alastor collapsed on top of you, not daring to pull out yet. He meant it when he said not to waste a drop of his spend. He peppered tender kisses along your face and forehead as you started drifting off, utterly exhausted and fully sated.

As you fell into unconsciousness, Alastor lifted your hips and placed a pillow under them to prevent gravity from pulling his seed from your womb. Once he was satisfied with the angle he finally pulled out. He gave you one, final kiss on your forehead whispering "Mon Cher, sweet mama to my future fawns, I will never allow us to be parted." He nestled in next to you, placing a protective hand over your womb.

There was one detail you were wholly unaware of. Unbeknownst to you, the wine Alastor shared with you was laced with a potion; the same exact potion that allowed Lilith- a human sinner- to conceive Charlie.

Alastor was not a praying man, but that night he called on all the powers that be for his seed to take hold in your freshly fertile womb.

@stattikdemon

Thanks for being patient with me on this one!

[redvexillum]

You were frustrated from dealing with Angel Dust's antics all morning, you sought out Alastor's wisdom in a moment of weakness.

Y/N: Alastor?

Alastor: Yes, my dear?

Y/N: In your opinion, what is the height of stupidity?

Alastor: How tall are you?

Y/N: ...

Y/N: Yeah, I can't even get mad. I walked into that one.

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

[robbie556]

‼️‼️GORE(?) /CANNIBALISM??IDK JUST LOOK‼️‼️

Alastor art work again

I'm actually so proud of him you guys better enjoy HE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER

I used https://x.com/cholvoq?t=HgJa7yvTO5xpH7zoIBLrzA&s=09 on Twitter's design for his hair cuz his cannon hair looked goofy 😔

[nerdestiwrites]

predator and prey chapter 10 (hazbin hotel reader insert)

“It isss not my fault!” The snakes' voice was clear as day as you walked down the steps, “I wasss not the one to lose it!”

“Your little egg bois were the last to have the remote, therefore it is your fault!” Angel snapped, and the image of the spider demon crouched and looking under the couch filled your vision. 

You stopped in the middle of the staircase and watched curiously. It had been a few weeks of you consistently being at the hotel and consistently participating in whatever activity Charlie planned. Thankfully she didn’t have one every day, it was closer to twice and sometimes three times a week. Less now that Valentino seemed to be constantly needing Angels' attention at the studio, which had been making the princess frustrated and upset. She wanted him to have more time at the Hotel and less time at the studio. 

So you started talking with Vaggie. You knew that Charlie would take your concerns and ideas into consideration, but you still were a stranger. It would be better coming from her girlfriend, someone she trusts entirely. You offhandedly one time while talking with Vaggie that Charlie is the princess, she could be using the power behind that title a lot more. 

It wasn’t a direct nudge, but a nudge nonetheless, however. Planted the seed inside Vaggies mind and all you had to do was wait for it to work. 

The couch was suddenly flipped over and a hiss of success came from Sir Pentious. “Aha! Sssee! I told you! You had let it ssslip between the cussshions!”

Angel groaned and grabbed the remote, and his lower two arms grabbed the couch and set it back right, brushing off the dust and dirt that had gotten on it from the floor. “I still think it was your egg bois. I was careful!”

You laughed at the argument which caused the two to stop bickering back and forth and turn to look over at you. You gave a small wave, and a small smile, and finished the rest of the steps down. 

Angel quickly jumped over the couch, “Heya toots! Maybe you know who had the remote last?”

You shrugged, thought for a moment, and answered. “That might’ve been me, actually. I am the worst about putting the remote back in place.”

You’d take the blame for the lost and quickly found remote. It was something small enough that you didn’t mind and even if it wasn’t your fault, it stopped the ever-growing argument that would surely continue to escalate. You found it fun to watch the two argue, especially when the stakes weren’t that high, but it was early in the morning, and you hadn’t had any sort of caffeine so your threshold of dealing with chaos was low. 

Within the few weeks that you had been staying in the hotel, you managed to get a hold of Mimzy. The conversation didn’t last long, and she had tried to talk her way out of fulfilling the favor you had with her until you said it would fulfill three favors instead of just one. That had changed her tune and she gladly accepted, saying that she’d stop by in her own time but promised it would be soon enough. 

In those few weeks, you also came into ownership of a dozen souls. Someone had thought they could get the better of you, pull a cloth over your eyes, and start a rebellion against you. Dealing with that had been one of the few days you left the hotel, a day where there hadn’t been any activities planned and most of the residents were off doing their own thing as well. Owning nearly twenty souls you could feel the small surge of power inside your veins. 

It was nothing compared to the Overlords, you knew that. They still wouldn’t even give you a second glance, to them you were just like any other Overlord wannabe, who wouldn’t amount to anything. The power was enough to send a chill down the average sinner's spine, however, and people started noticing. Not great for your plan, but still manageable. You could still hide it underneath the power of the princess and the Radio demon while you were at the hotel as well.

“Perhapsss we should add a ssstring attached to the remote and attach it to the side of the couch! That way it cannot get stuck beneath the couch or between the cussshions!” Sir Pentious spoke up with a solution to the problem and Angel seemed to nod in agreement. It was a good idea.

“Great idea, you two figure out how to do that while I go get myself some coffee and maybe a bagel for breakfast.” You waved and turned. As you walked down the hall to the kitchen, you heard Angels' voice shout behind you.

“Don’t eat the last Everything bagel!”

You smiled, laughed, and shook your head. Inside the kitchen, you were thankful to find yourself alone. You weren’t ready for any more interactions yet for the day and were hoping that it would be a day without any sort of redemption activity by Charlie. The daily routine took over and you managed to start the coffee without much thought and searched through the pantry for a bagel that wasn’t the last Everything bagel. When the other bags came up empty, you threw them away and shut the pantry, opting out of a meal for breakfast. You’d just eat lunch then, and a bigger dinner, and have more than two cups of coffee. 

The mug was warm from the hot liquid inside and you took a sip. The taste wasn’t the best, you definitely preferred your own bag but the last time you had bought a bag of good coffee grounds, it was gone in two days and no one would fess up on using it. Even when Charlie made it into an activity, saying that honesty was the best policy in this situation, no one came forward. You just assumed everyone had been a culprit, even the princess herself, and opted out of buying coffee again. So everyone was stuck with the cheap coffee grounds instead.

The best coffee you had since being in Hell had been the times you had stayed at the Vee Tower in Velvettes apartment. She somehow had the best coffee grounds, the best syrups, cinnamon sticks, an espresso machine, and a dozen other coffee add-ons you weren’t entirely sure existed back on Earth while you were alive. The Overlord always made the best coffee too, though that was more rare than you staying at the Vee tower. Twice, it had happened,

You placed your mug down and leaned against the counter, eyes closed as you took in a deep breath. So much had happened in the past few weeks, so much and so little at the same time. You could tell that Charlie was getting frustrated with the lack of results on redemption, you could see the stress on her face and behind her eyes, even though she did well at trying to hide it from the others. She was concerned about everyone in the hotel, about how if redemption didn’t work, then she’d have to face failure. Not just failure, failure, and admitting it to everyone she cares for.

That was a lot, for anyone. 

“You certainly are an interesting fellow, aren’t you!” Alastors voice filled the silent air within the kitchen,

At this point, you should’ve been used to the Radio demon sneaking up on you at any moment but you still jumped slightly in surprise. You were glad you had set the mug down, knowing that you would’ve spilled some of its contents if it had still been in your grasp. “I try not to be, yet I am.” 

The much taller demon leaned against his microphone as he seemed to study you, his smile tightening ever so slightly in such a way that if you hadn’t been watching him closely you would’ve missed it. “There’s a few rumors going around about you, you know! Though I would be a gentleman and let you know.”

“Rumors?” You feigned shock as you grabbed your mug and took a sip. You knew of these ‘rumors’, they were the cause of the souls you had acquired. 

“Oh yes! You know what they say about rumors, they all stem from half-truths and jealousy.” His tone was joyful, the radio filter bouncing slightly in the air, “Rumors can be dangerous too, of course, for those who hear them and those who they are about!”

You couldn’t tell if that was a threat directly toward you or not, so you’d act like it was until proven otherwise. That was the safest option, you had learned that quickly. If you ever thought someone might be threatening you, likely they were.

“Well, care to tell me what these rumors are? So I can be prepared?”

Alastor seemed to mull over the request before he shook his head once. “Nope!”

“Fantastic.” You rolled your eyes at his refusal, though you weren’t entirely shocked by it, just frustrated. You wanted to know if there was more than just the one you knew of. You’d have to figure that out for yourself then.

Just as Alastor was about to make another comment, he stopped himself as Angel came into the kitchen with an annoyed huff and a frustrated look on his face. He grabbed a to-go cup, filled it up with the rest of the coffee in the pot that you had made, muttered a quick apology, and left just as quickly as he had entered.

You watched for a moment, catching a brief moment of Angel's phone with his texts open with Valentino. Another call into the studio, it seemed. You felt bad, for Angel, truly. No one deserved what he was put through in that studio, no one deserved to go through what Valentino put him through. That would be one of the first things that would change, once you got all the Vees under your thumb, setting Angel go along with every other soul Valentino has under him. 

“Well, I guess I need to go figure out what sort of rumors have been started about me and if I need to correct them or just play into them for the fun of it.” You turned to face Alastor and gave an almost mocking smile back towards the Radio demon. Before he could answer, you left the kitchen, coffee mug in hand, and sipped the contents.

------

AN: due to my lack of ability of pacing things correctly, next chapter is gonna be long WHOOPS so it may take longer to get out :P

Taglist: @luleck @rl800 @literalzxmbie @rapunzelbro @jono723

[g0ofy-g0ober]

Reader who has no Clue Alastor is Ace or a Pychopath X alastor who is manipulative about his views

Writing a manipulative power Hungry Alastor because it's fun, please don't read this as accurate to any persons sexuality, this is just my personal headcannon based on Alasrors personality while considering that he is ace, only psychopaths enjoy others weakness (or kinky people but I digress)

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You clutch your sheets, hands feeling the cool expanse of the insanely expensive sateen bedclothes that grow warm under your grip. You were clearly pouting, running ideas through your mind on how you could possibly broach such a conversation with Alastor, who up until now had been the picture of a perfect boyfriend.

He was perfect, not in the modern "good morning" and "good night babe" texts, bare minimum way, but in the deep raw romantic way.

His ministrations, like laying coats over puddles or sending you bouquets of plush red flowers, and other attempts of his attentive courting sometimes left you with eerie feeling. Yet his smile stayed as consistent as his romantic displays, after a argument you'd find a vase of hyacinths on your doorstep. When you saw something you shouldn't have, he'd sweep you into his arms after you almost got hit by that broken book shelf! Things aligning in an eerie way that sometimes turned your stomach.

Sometimes you wondered if he was trying to fuck with you or fuck YOU when he would lean into the crook of your neck hot breath fanning against you, only to pick lint of your collar.

The way he'd look at you whispering how he would "join you in bed tonight" a lecherousnes in his gaze only to arrive dressed in scrooge like pyjamas at 9pm fucking sharp he would switch off the lights in the room and lay down to sleep, with an oddly adorable but also cruel "good night dear!"

You felt insane, standing infront of him in cute pyjamas, arms outstretched but he would just waltz past, sometimes planting a cold smooch on your forehead before wrapping himself up in your sheets once again, falling asleep at 9pm, like a fucking grandad.

You bit your lip, rolling it between your teeth as you thought. Are you meant to try to seduce him? is this just something you ask for outright?

You were stumped in every other relationship you have ever been in usually Sex is one of the first topics broached, and if not discussed, it usually just happened naturally after a night of alcohol and other bad decisions!

Time flew fast with alastor, especially when helping the steadfast hotelier put out various fires in the hotel, and suddenly, you were nearly a year "dating" with no signs of that kind of physical intimacy.

You resolve yourself to ask him, heading out for your usual day and eventually making the decision to ask him to come to your room early. To which he smiled, his eyes narrowing curiously despite his seemly joyous agreement.

Eventually, when the time came you were sat on your bed, picking at the skin of your hands as Alastor appeared from behind the creaking door "Hello my deer-" he said smiling bright and large as he shut the door behind him, shedding his microphone and coat at the door with his tail swishing behind as though he was about to begin his nightly routine of "pajamas, bathroom, bed".

"Honey... can we- talk?" It came out of you in a strangled anxious way, like you were wrangling the words out, cursing those darn connectives rather than having a normal adult conversation.

"Why of course! What is it you want to talk about" he grinned darkly, eyes shining with curiosity at your anxious display, his favorite thing about you was how clearly you betray your emotions, he knew it was weak of you, but he couldn't help but drink up every moment of it. Satisfied that you could never betray him.

You likely didn't think this far trying to find a delicate way to explain your thoughts feelings and desires when faced with the source of them, you panic big time "so uuh-", "basically" , "why.?" Eventually you steel yourself with a shaky breath before uttering an awkward but disponded sounding "Why haven't we slept together?"

Alastor pauses for a moment he had been avoiding your lasciviousness like the plague because, realistically, he would rather have the plague. He loved you sure, in his own strange way, but the way you looked at him so dejected, like he would be repulsed by you, made him feel powerful.

"Oh my dear-" His voice dripping with a cruel kind of sympathy as he hooked a sharp finger under your chin, the pad of his thumb dragging your bottom lip a dark blush spreading across your features for a moment before moving to caress your cheek "why in satans name would I ever dream of defiling you in such a wretched way!".

Your face fell, yet his grin never faltered as he uttered the words that made you feel like a rude, perverted, charlatan for even asking!

Your shoulders slump even as you lean into his gentle touch on your face. "I'm sorry," a confused mumble leaves your lips before you even register, wait? What are you sorry about? You consider for a moment before a gentle kiss is placed on your forehead, distracting you all over again.

(IDK IF RHIS MAKES ANY SENSE BUT MANIPULATIVE ALASTOR WHO "CARES" BUT LOOKS DOWN ON THE READER IS MY JAM MAN)

If you like this concept, please feel free to play with it! I'm not really a writer, and I would love to see some reblogs or tags with better renditions of the vibe I'm Tryna give!

[raventhebard]

THIS IS NOT SHIPPING THEM!!!!! I had an idea that like what if Alastor and Rosie were married when they were alive for insurance benefits and so that Alastor could be AroAce and Rosie could be lesbian and no one would suspect it. Also, this would help give alibis for murder.