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we-are-maladaptive · 1 year

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Breeding ‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧ Stock

Shouto Todoroki x Cowgirl!Reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Feel free to send me an ask and I’ll write it for you! Remeber to check the rules first.

CONTENTS: smut, breeding (duh), pussy pounding (teehee), hybrids, talks of past abuse, lactation kink, shouto is like in his late 20, early 30s, loss of virginity, master/pet dynamics, oral (f reciev.) Word Count: 2.7k (Proofread! :D)

It seems like people like you are not so lucky as humans. Humans get to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and it’s not fair. Being strapped in a cage all day long.. waiting for someone to take you home n’ milk you dry, maybe breed you.

Breed... you hated that word. You just wanted a life where you could be free, and not have to worry about being someone’s pet. Unfortunately for you, you were one of the best stocks in the farm. The freshest of milk, and the prettiest of faces. This meant that you were being dragged for display almost every time a rich, old buyer came around, flaunting your pretty tits and perky nipples through the thin fabric of your white dress. Praying that the price tag clipped to your ear will be enough to drive them away... sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the buyers will get a little too close, so when they get a bite on the finger or arm and they scurry away, a few lashes at your behind is better than staying with those creeps.

One day, though, another rich man comes inside... he’s a handsome man, and looks way more decent then the crooks that usually come in the store. You hear one of the clerks scurry in his direction-

..”Oh my! Hello good sir! What are you in for today?”

“I’m here to purchase a cow.”

“Oh! I see. Is there any type you are interested in?”

“...Your best cow.”

A pair of heavy footsteps were walking to your cage, but you didn’t pay any mind to it, too engrossed in your own thoughts. You were always so shaky during a time like this, what if the price, or a bite on the arm, isn’t enough to drive them away? You can’t stay here forever...

“I’ll take her.”

Your head perked up immediately.

“O-oh! Are you sure you want to buy her? You haven’t even touched her ye-”

“I said I’ll take her. Do I need to repeat myself again?”

“Of course not sure! The price is 300,000 yen. She’s of high value.”

You looked the man in the eyes, his gaze softened when he met your eyes, maybe because they were currently filled with fear.

His eyes met the clerk again.

“...Seems fair. Lead me to the paperwork. If there's anything else I need to know, do tell me.”

...

You were terrified.

This man was large, and could easily overpower you. You stood no chance against him, so you stayed quiet and timid in the back of his car.

“Where...where going?” Dumb thing. Could barely manage to understand a few words.

“..We are heading home. You won’t be familiar, but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Home? You have never had a home before, always stuck in the cage. He said it so gently too, maybe it’s worthless to be so panicky.. he seems sincere.

“Moo..”

...

When he pulled into the driveway, you expected to be dragged into the house, but he held you so softly. So gentle then you felt almost compelled to follow him, and that's what you did.

“Hungry..”

“You’re hungry, hm? What do you usually eat?”

“..Moo?”

He sighed. He wasn’t going to get very far when it came to communication. It seemed as though you could only understand basic words. The man fed you plenty of fresh strawberries, and kiwi. Much to your delight, since all you ate back at the farm was slop filled with hormone inducing protein.

“Who?” Is what you asked him. If you were going to stay here, you at least needed a name. “Shouto, is my name.”

“Sho...shoto..?”

“Yes, you got it.”

Shouto. That was his name. It’s not very hard to pronounce either.

It started to get late, and you had a hobby of following him wherever he went. He could tell by the clank of the cowbell he placed around your neck.

“Sleep?” He assumed you were tired after the trip. You followed him around to this somewhat pile of pillows and a blanket. It was soft, but still sturdy, since it was placed on the floor.

...

The next morning was filled with ache. You felt so heavy. Practically dragging across the floor into his room where he slept. You stared up at him and whined until he started to stir.

“Mmm..what is it?”

“Hurts.” It did hurt, the ache in your hard breasts was hard to ignore at this point. Milk threatening to spill all over and make a mess on the floor if you moved the wrong way.

“Right. I know, come here...”

He pulled down the top of your dress, and your breasts spilled over. He gently grabbed one, and sucked.

It was such a strange feeling.. it was reliving, but your nipples were so sensitive, you couldn't help but whine whenever he sucked so hard. The rich, warm milk flowed into his mouth, and when he began to coax you into his bed, you flinched a little.

“No... no breed.”

“No?” He was rather confused. One the papers and documentaries he read prior, it seemed that almost all cows loved to be bred and filled to the brim. It seemed you were the exception though. It was understandable though, and he wasn’t going to make you do anything you weren’t uncomfortable with, yet.

“Alright. Are you feeling better?”

You nodded. You were still sleepy though, since it was still early in the morning. You snuggled up against him, much to his surprise. Seems like you like his mattress more than the floor.

“Nuh-uh. You need a bath before you can get in my bed, missy.”

“Huff.”

...

It was around 9AM now. This bath was a lot more soothing then you thought it would be. While you were marveling at the bubbles in the bath, Shouto sat at the edge, but he was internally struggling a bit...

Your body looked amazing.

The way droplets of water ran from your hair into the crevice of your breasts. When you lifted yourself up a bit to get out of the water, he could see the fat of your ass, and even a little peek at your cunt too <3.

Shouto wasn't aware of what you were doing right now, probably wandering around the house, but he wasn't worried about that recently. Right now, he wanted to figure out how to make you more.. comfortable. You had pushed away his advance to fuck you earlier, and he was currently fighting the urge to find you bend you over, but that's not very comforting. He understood that you had just gotten here, and it was a very sudden change.

After a while, he decided that the best course of action was patience, and to let you feel a little more at home via gifts or just exploration. He had gotten you a pretty decorated bell that went around your neck, and would let you snuggle with him on his bed as long as you showered or didn't run around in the grass looking for butterflies in his garden. His bed was very soft, and you cried and whined at him whenever it was time to get up.

After a week of being there, you felt a lot more at home. You were able to get down the basic layout of the house now, so you no longer got lost. It was a very large house, and so you would wail for Shouto, so he could come find wherever you were.

It was late into the evening now. You once again lay in Shouto's large garden tub, Shouto was also in the tub behind you, gently scrubbing away the mud on your shoulders, you were extra dirty after planting face-first into the ground. You tripped over yourself after trying to snatch a pretty monarch butterfly. Shouto helped you with wiping the dirt off your face when he found you, but still got himself dirty in the process thanks to you swinging your muddy tail around.

...Once you were finally clean in the tub, that's when Shouto decided to advance. He pressed you back onto his chest, and placed his hand on the lower part of your stomach. You tilted your head to look at him, curious to see what he was doing. You shuddered slightly when he pressed his lips on your neck, right above your collarbone. You tensed when he started to suckle on your neck, so he used his other hand to caress your thigh, and lifted it upward to hand over the edge of the tub, he did the same with the other leg. Your legs were now draped over the tub, giving him access to your more intimate area. He stopped sucking on your neck and again placed his hand on your lower stomach, sliding down very slowly. He whispered in your ear when you started to whimper; "Shhh, I promise I'll take good care of you. Just relax for me.'' You started to melt in his hands, he's taken good care of you ever since you got here, so you should be able to trust him. You were just scared. Scared because of the things you witnessed back at that old barn. Looking at Shouto's different colored eyes makes everything numb, so you nodded at him. He softly smiled at you, and slid his hand on top of your cunt. You stiffened slightly, so he didn’t toy with you just yet, he wanted you to get comfortable first. When Shouto felt you slightly relax into his arms, he smiled at your soft whimper, because now he had placed a calloused finger onto your swollen clit, rubbing in slow circles.

“How’s that feeling, baby?” He was taunting you now, his fingers slowly picking up the pace, stilling you with his other hand when you started grinding your hips into his fingers. “Ah….ah..” You were really trying, you were. Nothing was coming out of your mouth coherent enough for him to understand, but it was enough to make him chuckle at your attempts, a simple puff of air from his nose.

The fingers on your clit were relentless now, the circles had gotten faster, and it was hard not to buck away from his touches. Something in your core was aching to be let out, but you had no idea what it was. Your whimpers turned to soft moans, and soft moans turned into a mixture of inaudible pleas, hiccuped sobs, and loud whines. You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Shouto did. You were on the edge, you slammed your eyes shut in preparation for what was about to happen, but it never came. A disappointed noise came from your lips, and Shouto let out a light laugh at your pouty face. “Don’t worry my dear, I’ll take care of you soon enough.” He pressed a kiss to your ear and whispered something that made you shudder;

“I want you to cum on my cock, love.” With that, he lifted you from the tub, earning him a squeak from you. Using the heat of his body to dry you both at an unfathomable speed, and when he deemed you “dry” enough, he hoisted you over his shoulder and dropped you on the edge of the bed in a playful manner. He gave you no room to complain or whine at him, and instead dragged your rear towards his face as he kneeled down on the floor. Your mouth was opened to protest, but before you could manage to get a word in, your thoughts changed immediately as his mouth started to suckle on your clit. Instead, you let out a loud moan at his ministrations.

He hummed in content at your cries, and the vibrations furthered your pleasure. After a minute, he slid his index finger into your walls, curling upwards in hopes to find that soft spot, and he did. You threw your head backwards, and let out a cry of pleasure. When he deemed you wet enough, he placed another finger in. Curling up into that soft spot in your cunt, and he picked up a nice rhythm too. He curled his fingers particularly hard, which made you slam your hand over your mouth, much to his displeasure. He stood up from his position and pulled you upwards into the pillows of the bed, your legs now bent over his shoulders. He tilted your chin upwards when you tried to look down to see what was about to go inside you, however he wouldn’t let you. If you did see it, you’d probably freak out by how large it was, so it was best to avoid that.

“You’re still so shaky, sweetie. I promise I’ll be very gentle with you, yeah? I don’t want to break you after all.” He smiled down at you when you nodded at him, your teeth biting at your plush lips and eyes slamming shut as you felt the rather large tip of his length prodding at your entrance. “Shh.. hey, you're okay. Look at me. I want to see the look in your eyes as I’m deep inside you, love.” As your eyes slowly opened you decided to grip at the sheets instead, if you bit your lip too hard it would bleed. He buried his face into your neck, as he couldn’t contain his groans and grunts either, opting to release them into your neck, his breath on your collarbone sending shivers down your spine, you could feel him gripping the sheets, and you could feel his cock prodding deeper into your sopping pussy. It hurt, it really did, but it was hard to focus on the pain when he held you so softly.

You had never felt any type of affection in your life, back at that barn. This pain was nothing compared to the lashes you used to receive back there whenever you made any type of mistake. His love was foreign to you, his touches, his affection. It was not what you expected when you first came here. You had thought he was like the others, he’d take, take and take some more until there was nothing left of you. To your surprise however he was giving you something. Giving you food, love, affection, something you’d never thought you would receive. This pain was nothing, nothing at all.

You weren’t really given any room to think when the pain did subside.

Pleasure. Pleasure in its rawest, most carnal form. It was something you never felt up until now. It was like electricity, flowing up and down every vein in your body, it was the only thing you could focus on, if you tried to focus on anything else you might break into pieces. Shouto was saying something, but it was drowned out by your cries. Everything seemed like a blur, the noises of your skin slapping together, your moaning, his grunts, all of it was hazy, other than the overwhelming sensation in between your legs.

Panic crawled its way up your spine when that sensation got a little too intense to handle, that feeling from earlier, something wanting to snap inside. Your breathing got sporadic and irregular, and Shouto noticed and hushed you.

“Hey.. it’s okay. Let go for me, yeah? I got you, you’re safe.”

You tried to plead with him, with the little English you were taught, but he wasn’t having it. He knew what was best for you, afterall.

You tried too hard to hold it in, but when he placed his fingers on your clit again, you knew you couldn’t contain it any longer.

You opened your mouth in a silent scream, head thrown back, your hair a mess, and nails raking at his back. .. and then everything went quiet for a while.

Your eyes felt heavy when you woke up. You weren’t out for long, it was still early into the night, the moon still shone in the same place as when you and Shouto were- oh.“Hi, sleepyhead.” You jumped slightly as the voice beside you, groggy and yet still full of love. Shouto’s hair is a mess, just like yours. Instead of speaking, you instead decided to nuzzle your face into his neck, and he replied with a hum. He kissed your forehead and stroked your back, it couldn’t be any better than this. All those years of isolation and abandonment, you have finally found something good, someone good in your life. You couldn’t bear to see him leave you.

Shouto was about half asleep when his ears perked up to the sound of someone sniveling, it was you. You were crying, in his arms. He pulled your face out, as it was still buried in his neck, and examined your watery eyes and red puffy cheeks with a frown on his face.

“Please… don’t leave me.”

He smiled softly at you, kissing your tears away. “I won’t ever leave you, I promise.”

With that, you both fell asleep. Even though you were a cow, you were still a girl. You had at least half the mind to think of girly things, which included dreaming of what you and Shouto’s kids would look like, and what you would name them.

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thewinchestah · 3 months

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"Chega de Saudade" - Alastor X Reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader.

Summary: When Alastor breaks into the V's building seven years later he expects to find a lot of things, lot of obnoxious, enraging, tacky things. He did not expect to find you. The Radio Demon does not take betrayl lightly and you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to his worst enemy. Better yet, you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to Vox and Alastor finding out. The soul you sold because Alastor left you for 7 years. Safe to say, it's a mess. A pretty, angsty, dark and delicious mess.

Warnings: Alastor is in Hell for a reason,general hellish violence,general hellish creepiness,eventual smut, i carioca coded valentino bc i can and bc he is very carioca sorry everyone,blackmail, Soul Selling, author is really invested in politics and decided to micromanage hazbin hotel canon, Corruption, Extortion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but nothing too explicit,mature themes in general, canon divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Alastor gets insane in this one you've been warned, fear play, Possessive Behavior, posessive sex, big bad radio demon is gonna fuck up the guy who stole his girl and will make it everyone's problem, Reader-Insert,no y/n,no beta we die like men here, i feel bad for tagging vox in this fic cause i think it's a disservice i really hate him and i make it clear so vox stans be warned, it's hell i hope y'all remeber ethics are fluid, posessive!Alastor, unhinged!Alastor, Isane!Alastor

Taglist: honestly only my queen @jyoongim i have no credibility to tag anyone anymore after being away for so long. If you wanna be tagged on future updates just let me know!

A/N:HI HEY BUNNY ANON IF YOU ARE STILL HERE THIS ONE FOR YOU!! Hiii everyone guess who's back. I had this fic cooking for a while now, actually i had a lot of writing cooking but in a very Ao3 author fashion a lot happened. You see i was on this writing streak and then my 15yo dog died while i was out of state. I had to go back on anti depressants and take a sabbatical. I got a new puppy and she's the light of my life. Got super sick, won a horse show. My first plan for this fic was having the first 3 chapters done and ready for debuting together because i always feel i'm lacking when i show up with only one chapter lol. After a while i realised i needed to get this first chapter out too see the light of day if i wanted to write again so here it is. This fic is a bit different from my other Alastor fics and i have a rough outline of 5 chapters so i think this beast will be more than 20k words long for sure. I decided to get a little deeper into Hell's politics and all the "no one ever thought of using heavenly weapons against hell even tough Hell's ancient and the best worst of humanity and demonkind is here". I call that bullshit sorry i'm brazilian i'm well versed in shady politicians and shady politics and unfortunatly, dear reader, you are in for this ride too. This fic kicks off right after "Stayed Gone". Also did i mention i'm brazilian and that my works are heavily inspired by brazilian media. This entire fic was inspired by one of my favourite songs of all time "Chega de saudade". And let's be real, Alastor and bossa nova are the perfect match. So yeah, english is not my first language and this isn't beta'd so sorry for any confusion or mistakes. Thank you so so much for reading my fics and always leaving the most kind beautiful and heartwarming feedback. I hope i can still deliver a nice story to my darling readers.

Click here for my other fics.

CHAPTER ONE: chega de saudade a realidade é que sem ela não pode ser.

In the first year you were calm and collected. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation to why he is gone. Is he even gone, gone? He’s coming home soon, you can feel it.

In the second year you convinced yourself there were signs everyone explaining why he was gone and when he was coming back, you were just too oblivious to them before. But everything can be a sign when you are delusional.

In the third year you cried so much you felt you were constantly drowning. You barely left home and some thought you were gone too. Gone to him.

In the fourth year you finally gave in and took the deal. Lack of self-preservation and machiavellian schemes working together to create a trap for him. He would come home out of anger, ire. But you can't outfox the fox.

In the fifth year you decided to scour hell and beyond after him. You went to places just to taunt him. Paranoia became your best friend, blood sweat and tears as you repeat “This time it will work, I'm sure of it”. Can a lie be said so many times it becomes the truth?

In the sixth year you accept defeat. You buried him deep and went about like he never existed in the first place. Isn’t it mystifying how this city screams his name?

It’s the seventh year now. The alarm on your phone rings and rings and you feel like scratching your face off. It’s time to meet your damned executioner.

Rolling out of bed you open the curtains to let some light in. The penthouse from the V’s building has a great view of Pentagram City, looking down you get the feeling of dystopian sci-fi that is so characteristic of the technology district. Limelights, digital outdoors, and big opulent, oppressing screens greet you like a constellation of dead stars, long distorted from their original purpose and form.

You follow processional routine as you get ready. Choose a beautiful dress, put on make-up, and do your hair. It all feels like preparation for a sacrifice. One thing you learned from Alastor is that appearances are the best strategy and you intend to greet your handmade battlefield like a roman legion.

Alastor. Even thinking of his name hurts, especially today when you need to face the consequences of your actions, the consequences of his actions. He is gone, he left you. And now Vox owns your soul. You blame your fall from grace entirely on him, he forced your hand, he made you do it. Out of desperation, out of defiance, you sold your soul to Vox so he would come back and save you, so he would come back out of hatred, anger and ire to tell how foolish you were, how betrayed he felt.

Betrayal. Selling your soul to his sworn arch enemy should be treason worthy of him dropping anything he was doing to come and punish you, to address you. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, proof that he still cared. That he didn’t just get bored of the empire of terror he fought so hard to build in Hell. That he didn’t, deep down, just disregard you like a shiny novelty, to be left when it got old.

You dry the persistent tears that insist on falling with clinical coldness. You are past feeling sad now, you don’t even feel angry anymore. You are past any emotion really, you just want to get this over with and get back home.

You went about your deal with Vox in many different ways, sometimes you felt like it was a good alliance, a slap on Alastor’s face. A side quest to gather as much information from the V’s inner circle, a social experiment. The truth is, during these past almost four years you were a mental gymnastics pro to justify your new arrangements. The cognitive dissonance required to live with the decision of being forever tied to Vox was an herculean task and boy he didn’t make it any easier on you. He would never be as refined as Alastor when it came to torture but there’s something about the coldness and calculated reality of the television business that was it’s own type of Dante’s inferno.

As soon as he got word of Alastor’s disappearance the TV overlord was on your scent, and he wasn’t shy about it either. You dodged him and led him on for almost four full years before finally giving in, everything was more or less under control during the early years of Alastor’s disappearance.

Until you saw the angel army leaving.

Death and gore were all around you. The sky rained blood. You couldn’t breathe. You tried to take a step forward only to realize you were knee-deep in demon blood. Adam was particularly ruthless this time, he seemed to have realized the unbalance in Hell’s power structure with one of the most prolific demon overlord’s absence and took full advantage of it. You choked on the sulfur filled air while the portal closed and Adam threw a last middle finger at the Pride Ring. A clawed hand offered you support as you were about to fall, your heart skipped a beat, for a split second you felt elation. In that split second a thousand thoughts, four years of misery and confusion passed through your mind like a movie. You were sure this was Alastor, showing up after the unprecedented carnage of today’s reaping. With the next heartbeat came the delivery of the most cruel reminder: the hand reaching for you was Vox’s. Alastor doesn’t care about anything anymore, not even losing territory.

The TV overlord was covered in thick, red blood and looked vindicated, a wide chesire’s cat grin on his face. Baptized in carnage, Vox had finally triumphed for the V’s.The V’s were now a force to be reckoned with in Hell, there’s no argument to be made. A good chunk of Alastor’s territory was now under their control, and everything that came with it too. Including you.

“My darling doe, be careful, we can’t have you hurt after the battle is won can we?”

Darling doe.

You threw up at the casual cruelty of the name Alastor called you with such affection being desecrated by Vox. He still supported you as you spilled your guts, you’d blame it on the nerves, the adrenaline, the reeking smell of death. Not on the fact that you knew he finally won, that the thing that broke you was to hear your name like that, on your lover archenemy’s lips. After that it happened. You sold your soul to vox. Of course he coerced you into it, and you were so mad with grief and betrayal that you felt like betraying Alastor back was the just thing to do. Pettiness and paradoxical hope dripping from your lips as the whole thing was done.

Every year this same flashback assaulted your mind as you got ready to meet Vox on the anniversary of your deal. It never went past the look you gave those pixelated eyes as he held you on that barren land, stopping right there when you made the decision that finalized your ruin. You still wouldn’t, couldn't face what really went down when you formalized your deal with Vox. Those memories were suppressed and tucked in under layers and layers of regret and self-hatred.

You gave yourself a final look in the mirror. No makeup smudging this time, you were getting good at numbing your feelings. Just a few tears, no more sobbing.

The yearly meeting with the V’s after the extermination was the perfect cover actually, everything was done in a way that it seemed like you were all cooperating. After all, you did hold a very good knowledge of the inner workings of Alastor’s deals, subordinates and territory. You knew who the V’s could “call in favours” and how to keep the peace. Or as close to peace as peace came when an abrupt power transition happened in Hell. You were a valuable asset to anyone really. Articulated in politics, masterful at the art of persuasion, kind, soft, charismatic, assertive, all in perfect balance, and frankly, breathtakingly beautiful. It wasn’t without reason that Alastor fell for you and that you became his most trusted advisor. You and Rosie were able to conceal his absence and manage his affairs for good two years and the better part of the third without raising any suspicion. Of course, the bigger they are the harder they fall and now you were walking down the corridor of the V’s building carrying a bulk of important intel that would dictate the fate of the Overlord power structure for the next year, at least.

The hallways of the building changed a lot since you first walked them. As the V’s grew in power, the building grew in grandeur. It was now an imposing beast, looming over Pentagram City. Modern corporate architecture that incorporated the savage capitalism of Vox Tech. Savage, cold, sterile, overbearing that’s how being inside the lair of Hell’s most up and coming trio felt. The tall ceilings and big glass windows were exactly what you would expect of a broadcasting network and silicon valley Big Tech company combined. As an esteemed guest, you got the privilege of staying in the coveted penthouses, with someone to attend to your every wish and demand. You also got an idea that Vox went a little extra with your treatment as a form of flirtation, he has been trying to convince you into moving in for a while, every time you stayed in, your usual penthouse had some shiny new thing that was made just for you, as he repeatedly emphasized.

This year’s token of affection was a makeup mirror-gadget-thingy, that looked out of a Totally Spies episode. You had to admit to yourself that this was way more thoughtful and useful than the gifts from the previous years. The thing was cute, practical and would come in handy, which was a big improvement. Vox had tried to sway you with all types of guns and high tech devices in vain. Well, there was also that embarrassing stance with the wire flowers with a hidden recording device. Needless to say that after that entire debacle Vox learned that he may own your soul but you weren’t a damsel in distress and you would reinforce your side of the bargain if he went too far.

You reached the elevator and went in, pushing the button for your destination.

The earlier you start this the earlier it is over, you remind yourself.

The panoramic elevator descended to the well guarded conference room, the guards didn’t bat an eye to you entering. You realized you were becoming a familiar face around here, that made you dread what’s ahead of you even more.

“There she is! Hello princesa, I missed that pretty face!” Valentino greets you. He’s the only one inside, sitting on the edge of the table. Well, that’s unusual… you think. Vox was always the first to get to the post-extermination meetings, plus he always gave you a slightly early timetable so he could have some alone time with you. Something must be going on.

“Hey Valentino, it’s nice to see you too! What gossip do you have for me today?” you give your best chirpy tone to the love moth. Look, you know how bad Valentino is, he is despicable really, even to your standards. But ethics are fluid, to say the least, in Hell. The acclaimed porn king was surprisingly engaging to talk to. He was fun and actually treated you like a person, which was paradoxical in itself, considering how infamous he is for exploiting and commodifying souls. You drove yourself mad with theories of possible agendas behind Valentino’s kindness towards you, but it was the simplest of answers really, for some reason Valentino liked you and he never denied himself of what he liked.

“You have no idea! We have a lot to catch up on, did I tell you about that bitch who was trying to spy on us?” a set arms gestures to you to sit down next to him. The next 10 minutes are spent talking frivolities with the moth. You’re not complaining, it's nice to get your mind off this dreadful day and you don’t get many.

Valentino, as always, has a lot to say, little goes on in Hell without him knowing who, what, where and why. Information, gossip, rumors, facts, if a single out of context word can be weaponized you better be aware that he knows. Pentagram city can be divided into districts and ruled by lots of different overlords, still, Valentino’s intricate web of influence and coercion stretches across all territories. Another poor soul manifests here and goes somewhere they should not be, talk to someone they should not talk to, discover something they should never know. All cases of “wrong place at the wrong time” are happily solved by a large sum of money from the moth and suddenly another thread is weaved into his web of knowledge, another secret made his. Valentino doesn’t operate like most Overlords and that’s where his power lies. He bribed and fucked his way into every major circle, every overlord’s inner circle, Hell’s best kept secret. If you were anyone in the hellish afterlife Valentino either fucked you or fucked someone very close to you.

Knowledge is power, and Hell’s gossip girl was proof of it.

You swallowed a lump you didn’t know existed, hearing the moth talk about how things changed in a matter of hours during the early post-war made you even more aware of the severity of the intel you were carrying. It was earth shattering (no pun intended) information.

Angels can be hurt. Angels can be killed. That meant a completely different way of existing in the afterlife, if this information goes public, the consequences are unpredictable and dire.

You don’t feel excitement knowing you technically can fight back, you feel pure dread.

To be completely honest, you feel like these “news” are not really news. You were pretty acquainted with politics back on Earth and this whole “omg no one knew about this! even though this was staring us right on your faces! is total bullshit. Hell is ancient, the exterminations are not a new thing, and there are some pretty smart people down here. To think that millenia after millenia masters of torture and skilled killers never thought of using heaven’s own firepower against them is wishful thinking at best. Sure, maybe after a few generations most sinners, even those who have power, may have been kept out of the loop about the chick in the holy army’s armor… but not knowing this at all just feels like a pretty convenient case of collective amnesia.

Convenient, that’s exactly what this is. It’s brutal, but that’s Hell. A scheduled massacre is a blessing to those who rule to maintain, reinforce and extend their power. And if you get lucky enough, empires will fall and you will make your move.

Vini Vidi Vici, that’s all you need to know about how Hell's politics work.

It’s true that with every massacre the Angel Army gets more and more brutal and unhinged. What was once justified as righteous mercy killings to stabilize the ever growing hellish population now is just a display of cruelty, these angels kill for sport. There have been rumors floating around of how the disproportional annihilation tactics are preparation for something bigger for a while now , and with the demonic royal families either operating totally off Pride Ring or being completely MIA, it is no wonder those influential enough are starting to get restless.

And that ties back to your first point, the thing that got you picking the skin around your nails while Valentino gossips. There’s a reason why this is being revealed now, you know how creating a narrative works, a few smart words and ideas become beasts of its own. A beast of its own that will tear anything on its way with the right fuel. The V’s have fuel to spare. Whose interest is that this information stayed hidden? Whose interest is that this information was allowed to be shared now?

Hell is constructed by layers and layers of complicated militias and parallel governance, each one a locked room of secrecy that is impossible to enter without a huge amount of connections and power.

“In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And, honey, you should see me in a crown” Valentino wisely said to you once. He’s a man of many many keys, and right now you are holding the fucking master key under your arm.

Speaking of Valentino, he notices that you dozed off and snaps his fingers, grounding you back to reality.

“My, my. You must have extremely sensitive information today to keep you from hearing the nastiest, hottest gossip of the moment babe” He takes a hit from his cigarette, an elegant and sensual move straight from an Old Hollywood film. The heart shaped smoke rings caress your face and for an instant you feel hypnotized, nodding your head profusely.

“But I already knew that” behind the rose coloured shades, you see a playful wink from his infamous red hot eyes.

The porn overlord quickly snaps his head towards the huge automatic doors, that open and reveal Vox and Velvette walking side by side exchanging looks between them that scream conspiracy.

“Sorry about the wait, my darling” Vox purrs on your way, stopping behind your chair and placing his hands on top of it, fingers dangerously close to your neck and shoulder. He pushes your hair to the side and lingers there, on your neck. “but as they say ain’t no rest for the wicked, am I right?” Velvette takes her seat beside Vox’s empty chair, meticulously placed in front of you, polite pleasantries leaving her mouth. She’s still a mystery, you never know her true stance on you, she keeps you on your toes. Does she like you? Does she hate you? Does she even care?

“If you say so, boss!” you give him your best pageant smile. “So, who’s climbing up the ladder of the food chain today?” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your performance begins.

“Aw baby, you know I love when you call me boss! keep talking dirty to me” Vox lands a wet kiss on your cheek and makes his way to his chair.

Right in front of you, so he’s always staring at you, drinking in your every move. You cannot fail, you cannot falter.

As much as you’ve gotten used to pretending, pretending you like the V’s, pretending you don’t feel disgusting inside for being here, pretending you don’t hate Alastor for putting you in this situation with a burning passion but still missing him so much you feel someday your heart will stop beating in protest to him absence, it’s still hard. Especially when Vox touches you. Your eyes focus on cybersharks swimming behind Vox’s seat and concentrate on keeping your awarding winning poker face.

“This year looks really promising I will tell you that! The orders for both your weapons and tragedy porn cameras doubled since the last extermination! I will give credit where credit is due, that fuckboy Adam knows how to put on a show!” he snaps his fingers graphs, stats and footage appears on the various screens. But it’s all irrelevant, it won’t matter when you spill your secret.

“Lot’s of veeeery interesting happenings but I thought this year we might… start differently. Let’s forget the profit talk for now, change things a little. Did you guys see anything out of the ordinary? Did something stand out?!” he spins around his Big Boss ™ chair and stops with his hand under his chin, leaning in to you like a schoolgirl with the hottest new gossip.

“Oh! I heard things -” Val also leans in getting closer to the TV overlord face.

Vox’s grin shrinks, lifting a finger in protest

“We know, we know, you always hear things Val” he replies in a monotone tone

Velvette, who spent this entire time typing away on her phone, interjects

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way girlypop” finally looking at you she asks, or rather, states the million dollar question “ but what Vox means is that we know you have something big cooking inside those files, so let’s drop the bullshit and go straight to it”

The doll puts her phone down, she knows how important this is, how this secret will probably dictate how things will go from now on. You can call Velvette many things, but she is clever and under all that attitude and posh accent lies a brilliant strategist.

“Plus, we all know you are contractually obligated to tell anyway, so spill, and can make this quick and painless to everyone involved”

Right, your cartesian, empirical proof that angels can be killed. Caught on the scene of the crime with the gun in your hands.

You don’t waste anymore time, the words leave your lips like you’re choking with the threat they present. You tell them everything: where the exorcist was killed, how he was killed, the golden ichor blood that oozed from the wound, where the body was hidden. Everyone is silent while you speak, even the mechanical sharks seem to have stopped swimming to listen.

After that you don’t remember much more of the meeting, it felt like you took the backseat of your own mind, the overwhelming feeling of dread making you so out of breath. Something is coming, something fucking coming and you can’t breathe. Anxiety sets under your skin like a second skeleton begging to crawl its way out and you find yourself sitting in one of the lavish anterooms of the V’s building.

“So, the cat’s out of the bag then” you recall hearing Vox saying when, as if on cue, a few moments before the meeting was being declared over, the emergency broadcast about the reduction of the extermination date from a year to six months was issued. You four watch the transmission and you wonder if that’s what it feels like to get the news of the end of the Cold War, the doomsday clock finally hits midnight and we are nuking each other out.

Mutual destruction assured.

Your mind wanders back to your life on earth, if life up there is better or worse these days. You died so young, everybody told you, your Untimely Demise a big topic of conversation that you yourself didn’t know much about. But nothing, nothing in all of your living years and your years from Hell to eternity could prepare you for what comes next.

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why is he hanging around? What does it mean for your family?”

The news hit your ears like a tsunami and you feel dizzy. It’s easy to find a big screen here and you are running to the closest one before your brain can even compute the words.

Alastor is back, Alastor is back, and he didn’t come find you.

The next sound wave is even worse, dragging you ashore to your feelings without any reprieve.

“Salutations!

Good to be back on the air! Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast

Sinners, rejoice!”

This isn’t a prank, there are no cameras and a sadistic tv host waiting for your humiliating reaction, instead all pairs of eyes in Hell are glued to the screen watching as the two Overlords fight it out.

Thus, no one notices how your entire body shakes and your vision goes black. It’s too much, and you grip the rails from the stairs that lead to the foyer for dear life. Your heart is beating out of your chest. No one notices how you cry, how you whimper Alastor’s name like a prayer, how the tears run down your face and you feel paralyzed. You want to run, a million thoughts per heartbeat making your head swim. The best you can do is collapse on the floor. So you do, you collapse trying to catch your breath as you plan your sweet escape, how you are going to Houdini yourself out of this situation right to his arms.

“Tune on in

when I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run”

You want to kiss him, you want to slap him, you want to tell him how much you missed him, you much your fucking hate him. You want him to drag you to his rooms and make you pay for cursing him out. You want him, you want your Alastor back. You cannot breathe.

“Oh, this will be fun.”

and then all the lights go out.

There’s a beginning of an uproar happening, the electric building dies a quick and unforgiving death, demons run around and Vox is flying down the stairs trying to do damage control. But even he is failing to keep his composure, because he knows. Oh how you know too.

Alastor is like a natural disaster, a shattering force that bends everything on its way with the sheer force of will. The inevitable reckoning that comes to your town, that judges and executes everyone that you love.

And now he is here.

You see the burning red hot pair of eyes first, their predatory gaze hold the entire room hostage, looking for his prey and then they land on you.

The piercing intensity of Alastor’s eyes, the flickering reds of damnation itself, regard you with surprise, elation and something more. So overbearing those eyes are, they make you shiver, bearing the weight of his gaze that penetrates deep into your soul. Your soul that is not yours anymore, it belongs to the man he hates, the man he despises.

The Radio Demon’s towering frame closes the distance between you two in five long strides, you do your best to keep yourself upright and not cower at the sight of him. He looks like Rapture and righteous torture, coming to deliver your setance. Vox knows his sentence is being delivered here and now too, so he runs, runs to you. You feel static and an electrifying pull, metal clinking. A chain. A glowing blue chain on your neck and Vox’s pulling it tight.

“What? what the fuck is going on? what’s this?” snapping your neck quickly towards Vox you whimper, you beg. The few seconds you stopped looking into Alastor’s eyes causing seething rage inside the deer demon, ire that makes the room tremble.

‘“Talk over the radio, that way everyone can hear, baby” Vox says straight at Alastor, like it is a shooting gun. The look on the TV Overlord is maniac, a sideway cocky smile that drips pettiness. Just because Vox clearly lost this battle, with all tvs and electricity on petagram city going dark, it doesn’t mean he can’t still forever tarnish this victory.

Alastor’s demonform covers the already dark building in opaque, thick shadows, radio static picks up around the room like a tornado chocking the majority of the unfortunate demons that are still inside, in a desperate attempt to seek shelter.

No words leave the radio host’s lips as he grows even taller, breaking the posh entrance of the building, debris flying down causing even more damage, the tall glass windows shatter in a million pieces courtesy of his tentacles tearing down everything on their way. The sounds of destruction and despair are loud but you haven’t been listening to the world outside you and your returned lover’s radio dial eye’s for a while. A doe caught in the headlight of his eyes the best you can do in brace for the inevitable impact that is coming your way.

In a flash of his scarlet eyes a fire ignites, the flames born from it are unnatural, behaving like a hive mind to kill and destroy.

You always knew that facing Alastor after these 7 years would not be easy, but you never imagine your reunion like this, in the midst of pomppeian fire, a wild raw power, the oncoming storm that is Alastor when he attacks.

Vox knows this fight is over, his ego hurt and today’s accounts always written as a victorious comeback from the Radio Demon, nevertheless, between the three of you Vox will always know who really won, who drew the last card, had the last laugh. He did, holding Alastor’s girl on a leash because he owns her. The soul of the woman the Radio Demon dared to love is his, the man Alastor despises with a burning passion, and that’s enough for now.

The raging flames circle the three of you and without much more flair Vox drops his act, your chain disappearing from your neck. You drop to the floor, branching yourself on all fours. You consider crawling your way to Alastor, so you can explain, so you can cry, so you can beg. You don’t know for what exactly you will be begging for: your life? his forgiveness? his punishment? you just know a lot of begging and pleading will be involved.

But the decision is made for you.

“Run, run my little darling doe” Vox commands “Run and do whatever you need to do”

You get up on your feet in a completely ungracious move and Alastor’s out of the room instantly. The flames never touch you on the way out, the outside world greets you: a cacophony of screams, sirens, burning sounds, the infernal orchestra that becomes the soundtrack of your life.

“Oh, and by the way” Vox screams from the threshold of the decaying building “we just got news that your place on Cannibal Town got trashed by some wayward sinners during extermination. But don’t worry you can always come home here, come home to me!”

You do your best to ignore his taunting, and you pray to whoever is listening that Alastor didn’t hear it. But it’s futile, the pavement where he is stepping cracks a dark cloud of static and shadows trail after him. He definitely heard and felt the implications of these words.

“Al.. Al!” you scream running after your lover.

Fuck, you’re still in heels, and those aren’t your running heels.

Kicking the damned shoes off you run faster, you cry harder and plead faster.

When you lived, your life always felt a bit surreal, weird stuff happened to you that you couldn’t really explain. People always joked that screenwriters of your life were the most creative people alive, the thing that happened to you never happened to anyone else. You died young, with a big, full life ahead of you, but you took this as gospel to your afterlife, after all everything related to your death was a mystery to you. But the things that happened to you living or dead were a raw reality impossible to make up.

The uncertainty of your death only fuels your resolve to fight for the life you found in the afterworld.

“Al, wait!” you are starting to get truly desperate, you need to get to him otherwise you are pretty certain you will drop dead here and now.

“Alastor please, please listen to me” your voice failing, you finally choking from the smoke, from the suppressed tears. If Alastor doesn’t hear you now you are not sure you can carry on after him, you’re too tired too scared. You him to save you like the damsel in distress you are right now so bad.

Alastor dramatically comes to a halt.

“I. am. Not. Having. This. Conversation. Here.” his voice is staggered, still. Filled with static and a murderous edge to it. His long arms catch your wrist and pull you close, flush against his chest, you almost stumble but a powerful arm around your waist locks you tight to him.

It’s the first touch in seven years, your legs shake at the realization that he’s real, he’s here. You lock your arms around his neck, the familiar fabric of his overcoat, the soft strands of his hair, they all feel like coming home.

Something inside Alastor snaps when he remembers, when he feels how small you are in comparison to him, only one arm securing you safely to him. Some paradoxical fight starts inside him, wild wild want, wild wild rage against tameness, the docile calm you bring whenever you are at his side.

The world disappears for a few seconds as darkness engulfs both of you, inside the black moving vacuum only the two of you exist, greeting each other in bloody homecoming.

Alastor takes you back to the Hotel, landing with a low thump inside his room. For a second his hand supports the small of your back, preventing you from falling forward. After all it’s been 7 years since you shadowtravelled with him, he knows you are terribly out of practice.

His consideration towards you only lasts this precious second thought, because he makes his way across the room, creating as much distance as he can between the two of you. Your touch disarms him, he is aware of that since the first time your hand brushed against his, the first time his lips ghosted on top of your knuckles. If Alastor is touching you he is extremely likely to get soft, to remember how much you mean to him, what you do to him, so he will be merciful. And right now the last thing the deer demon wants is to be disarmed, to show you mercy. He can feel your betrayal burning inside his veins, clouding his judgment with ire and jealousy.

Alastor doesn’t fight those feelings, on the contrary, he lets them take him by storm adding fuel to his already bad temper. That’s the only way he can face you now, that’s the only way he can make you understand.

You don’t get any time to gather your bearings, from the corner of your eye you notice a forest. His room is bigger on the inside and has a fucking conservation area but that’s hardly the most pressing matter at the moment. The pressing matter at the moment is that you are getting whiplash from touching your demon lover for the first time in seven years and his subsequent refusal to touch you, stationing himself across the room to you.

Why isn’t he with you? by your side as you ride the shockwaves of today together? You are scared, but above all you feel overwhelming sadness.

“How did it happen?” he finally snaps, breaking the deafening silence. It’s the first time Alastor regards you, directly, in 7 years and the weight his words bare is so heavy you wish for more of the silence. “Tell me, how did it happen?” his eyes are wild, dangerously close to radio dials.

“How did it happen? You tell me Alastor! You left me, you fucking left me!” you wish you could be your usually articulated self, you rehearsed this conversation so many times in your mind and in none of them you started with such venom on your lips. But it has been too long, and maybe the poison from all those years alone and afraid beside Vox drips through.

The Radio Demon sees the tears that fall profusely from your big doe eyes, and they sting more than an acclaimed torturer like him could have anticipated. Alastor finds himself still disarmed, because with every single glistening tear that falls he can see how hurt, how scared you are. He is the only one allowed to make you scared, he owns your fear.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? He owns nothing. Vox does. And that realization turns him back to feeling seething rage.

“So my mere absence is enough to change your devotion? Is me being here the only thing that stopped you from falling into his arms?” more poison. By the end of the night you both will choke on it.

“Al.. Al” you are sobbing now, your throat tightens and it’s hard to breath it’s hard to speak. “ I had to do it. You don’t get it, you don’t get it.” your voice breaks “hemademedoit, hemademedoit!!”. You swallow half the words, whimpering, as if you say it fast enough the action will quickly become the past, as if the memories won’t haunt you. And yet the memories flood your mind

A dim-lit room, the smell of blood and something burning.

“He is gone baby, and he isn’t coming back”

Electricity makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

A stranger’s hand pushes the hair to the side of your face, dread creeps up inside of you.

“This is the only way my dear, the best decision you can make”

The same stranger’s hand grab you by the waist

“I’m the only one who can protect you now, you know that right?”

eyes that make you freeze, it’s hard to think. eyes that make it hard to say no.

“If this is hard for you, you can pretend that I’m him”

a wrong type of static pricks your lips

“This won’t hurt”

a shockwave hits your body and it feels like you are being split open

You have to steady yourself on the closest piece of furniture. You cower as the repressed memories from the night you finally gave in to Vox assault your mind, trying to make yourself as small as possible, like he is coming back to do it all again. Cries and incoherent words leave your lips and you don’t know if you actually said what happened or if this entire time you have just been crying. You entire body hurts as you hyperventilate “Al, I’m so sorry” you whisper

That’s what undoes Alastor, you curling yourself in a ball, defeated and scared at the ghost of the man he hates. You looking away from him like you are undeserving of him, of his punishment, of his love. Like you are tainted. Alastor can’t make the exact words of your confession about how it happened, but he heard enough. Vox would never make you come to him willingly, Alastor knows that. Whatever Vox did - and Alastor has a lot of ideas of what he did - he will pay double for it.

Alastor’s blackened heart shatters when he calls your name and you don’t look up to meet his eyes, like you always do. He was always your lantern for when you were drowning. He meant to break you, hurt you like that. He just wanted to make you come to him, beg for his forgiveness, beg him to soothe the pain.

“Mon coeur, my sweet darling doe you are safe” Alastor voice goes so soft it hurts “Don’t fret, it’s in the past, it’s over, you are safe with me now as you are meant to be” he coos.

Still, you can’t read your lover’s mind. So you don’t know his heart is shattered, you don’t know how much he loathes himself for letting this get this far. You are so caught up on your own feelings, reeling the rage and the memories that you miss the softness of his voice and his outstretched hard and you inevitably choke on the poison.

“No. No!” you snap “You don’t get to say that. You have no right to say that!” you scream as you get up “I’m not safe, I will never be safe because you weren’t there to protect me, you promised Alastor, you fucking promised” the poison is now inside you, heartstopping waves of hurt consume your body and sprit. Right now the same burning passion that makes you heart beat for Alastor makes you hate him too. You were never good with ugly feelings, you always pride yourself for being soft to be strong. Your kindness and act of rebellion during the hellish reality you lived. You were never good with bad feelings, so you do something you never thought you’d do.

You shove the Radio Demon, that man you love so much it drives you to insanity. You shove him because the shame is too much, all the ugly feelings ball up inside, convincing you that you don’t deserve him, that you already lost him. And you won’t survive his dismissal.

You never talked back to him, you never raised your voice. Not because you were afraid to, but because you never had to, hence the reason why Alastor is so taken aback that your pitiful attempt of violence actually moves him from where he was standing.

Alastor shoves you back, pushing you up against the wall with a searing kiss. He kisses you like you are his last chance at salvation, like he wants to be redeemed. He licks your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, pushing his hips hard against your core, making you straddle him. Alastor doesn’t grant you a moment of reprieve, his lips come crashing down on yours again, his tongue inside your mouth dancing to a madman’s tune. He does what he does best, he takes and takes and takes. He takes your breath away, he takes all the callous words that threaten to leave your lips, aimed at him.

You succumb to your demon lover, your nails dig into his skin and he moans inside your mouth, he bites your lips enough to draw blood. In the end Alastor is still Alastor, and of course he gets all hot and bothered when fighting. You feel delirious with the taste of his lips, your blood and your salty tears mixing together, an unholy ambrosia. His hardness press just the right way to make you sing creating a current of desire after a seven year long drought.

His hands are quick, ridding up your shirt making he grab your ass and then your hips, strong enough to bruise. His clawed finger is already tweaking your nipple that way he knows you love. Your bravado melts, in perfect synchrony to when he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, drinking everything: that wretched poison that tarnished your words, the sacred warmth of your blood. You moan his name like a prayer that he promptly answers, he’s kissing you like a drowning man again, your blood on his lips painting your lips red like you both just drank from the holy grail, his hand cups your other breast and you vow to never speak to him like that again, only if it’s gonna get you up against the wall like that with him.

And then he stops.

“I hope this kiss haunts you” he says, voice still drunk with desire, low and threatening. He swiftly moves you off him, walking away and creating the same distance from when this all started “haunts your every breath, finds its way inside your every waking moment until you are mad with regret”

You are bewildered, eyes widening in disbelief. What is he doing? How can he go from 0 to a 100 so fast?

“I hope this kiss haunts you, so you never forget that you were the only woman who ever had me at the palm of her hand and you decided to throw it all away with that calamitous cynicism of yours.”

So that’s what’s happening. You can never expect to beat a master at his own game, Alastor is still cruel when he is merciful. When push comes to shove he will always win. There’s only so far you can get with taunting his repentance, playing with his heart laid bare at your feet, filled with sorrow and begging for forgiveness. He was ready to apologize, to dry your tears and soothe your fears, worshiping your delicious body and the ground you walked on. He was ready to admit that this was half his fault until your venom stung him beyond the realm of spoken word.

“I understand it now, it must be hard for you to cope with your own decisions, your own failings, so you take it all on me. I hope you remember this when you come back to beg, on your knees for my forgiveness. And trust me, you will.” Of course Alastor would torture you with the knowlodge of his guilt and despair, the loss of his benevolence, the promise of desire and carnality. He will always be a torturer at heart, and you forgot that’s the first rule you need to always remember when dealing with him.

“You’ve got your demons darling” never was your precious pet name said with such disdain. Static starts to gather around you, and in a flash his hand is on your neck

“and they all, Look. Like. Me” his voice is distorted when he finishes cursing you, there’s a tempest behind his eyes that entraps you, the burning red of his irises condemn you.

The Radio demon is a raging fire, an oncoming storm. But he is also meticulous, cruel and calculating, if you dared to question him, to step on the grace he gladly gave you, you clearly were aware of everything he did to lull his absence. All the plans and contingencies he made to hush your worrying thoughts about him and bathe your threshing heart on tranquiline waters.

And you decided to mock it. To mock him and his love for you.

You are crying again, but this time Alastor is fucking glad he was the one to hurt you, to reduce you to a mess of regret and tears.

Tonight in Hell, power shifts from one Overlord to another. Sinners plan and freak out accordingly.

But their machinations are all meaningless.

The 7 years you spent away from Alastor made you sad, the three years spent on Vox’s side made you bitter. The V’s operate on poison, it’s their fuel. And maybe the poison drips through.

Tonight you drank the poison and it broke you.

Tonight, for the first time, the poison broke Alastor too.

#HEY BUNNY ANON THIS ONE IS FOR YOU I NEVER FORGET A REQUEST I TAKE 5 MONTHS BUT I DONT FORGET IT #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #the radio demon x you #im insaneeeeeeeee #baixaria #im sorry everyone #alastor #the radio demon #hazbin hotel fic

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monimccoythings · 7 months

Text

Alastor x Daughter!Reader III (Platonic)

Yeah, this is going to take place after the end of season 1, just after Sir Pentious has ascended and the hotel has been rebuilt into a bigger better version. I just don't know how to fit Y/N in season 1.

Reminder: Alastor is in Hell for a reason.

TW: This contains a very delicate matter, like PTSD and panic attacks, even though I wanted to keep it brief because I'm not very well versed in these kind of subjects and wanted to be careful and respectful with it, I'm not entirely satisfied with how I wrote it, I researched and looked into my past experiences, but still don't think I truly adapted it as best as I would have liked. Also several mentions of cannibalism. Brief mentions of controlling behavior.

This isn't proof read so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

Part I ｜Part II｜Part III (You are here!)

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Soft jazz music enveloped the room, accompained by a strong smell of coffee and magnolias, someone was humming quietly to the music. Somehow, it reminded you of home.

You blinked groggily, trying to get the sleep away from your eyes, and leaned on your elbow. Why was the ground so soft and cushioned?

Yor eyes shot wide open when you remebered the events that led you there. The blood, the laughter, the eyes, the smile, the radio static... Your heart started beating wildly inside your ribcage, and you suddenly found yourself gasping for air. You clutched your old dress, hoping that would alleviate the growing pressure in your chest in some way.

"Well, look who's finally awake!" Alastor left the newspaper on the table and turned towards you, if his grin was supposed to be comforting it was not working. Just the fact that he was acting so casual, as if nothing had happened in the last ninety years made everything a million times worse.

"You are quite the hide and seek champion, ma petite faon. It took several years for my shadows to casually find you and then it took even longer for me to believe you actually had been sent here, ha ha!" His neck bended in an unnatural way as he laughed.

Crap. Did he always know where you were? Was this just a game of cat and mouse for him?

As if he had read your mind, his eyes adopted a more relaxed expression that did nothing to soothe your nerves. "Well, for the last ten years you gave me quite the chase, cher. Always on the move, never stopping, from one part of the ring to the other. And then there's that seven year gap." He muttered to himself that last part.

You still felt on the verge of a panic attack. Your body couldn't and wouldn't stop shaking, and felt like reality was blurring around you. Everything was happening too fast, it brought you back to that night decades ago when you found that your beloved father had actually been a serial killer. It almost felt like it was mere minutes ago.

Alastor knew of your discomfort, your fear. He could see it as clear as a day, he could almost taste it. He had always enjoyed tasting the fear on his victims, but yours only left an aftertaste of bitterness in his mouth. It was rotten, putrid and nauseating. Maybe because it was the only fear he should never had a taste of. Watching you like this also brought him back to the night he lost you.

As he held your unmoving body in his arms, for a couple of seconds his brain stopped functioning, unable to accept what had just happened. The pain he felt was just like someone had ripped his chest open and pulled out his still beating heart, only to crush it, leaving an empty and cold hole in its place.

He had taken you to your room and laid you in the bed, tucking you in. You looked so peaceful, if your face and clothes weren't stained with blood he would have believed you were sleeping. But you would never wake up again.

The next couple of days passed in a blur, tracking down the man who had dared to do this to you and then run away, and giving him his fair punishment. And as he dragged his mutilated body through the forest... Well... the rest is history.

"Anyways! All's well that ends well! Now I found you, and you won't need to worry anymore!" His chirpy radio filtered voice portrayed some genuine happiness that didn't reach you. The bond and trust that used to tie you two together, had been damaged beyond repair. And Alastor knew. That didn't mean he was going to give up, though.

Before he had the chance to make things even more awkward between you two, the door bursted open, revealing several people behind it.

"Oh, you're awake, that's so great! We were all sooo worried since Al suddenly brought you here, and you seemed passed out, we didn't know if you were alive or-" The blonde haired demon kept rambling, but you barely listened to her, way too much in shock. Behind her, there was a bunch of demons: a winged cat who would be rather doing anything else than be there, a tiny cyclops with a psychotic and perky smile; a spider demon who, if anything, looked confused; a taller cyclops demon girl who found the dirt in her nails to be way more interesting than you, and some kind of moth demon girl? You wondered if they all were going to participate in your slaughter or were just going to watch.

"-aaaand who were you again?" The blonde demon asked with an awkward smile.

"I'm very glad you're asking! Because this is no other than my beloved little girl!" Alastor opened his arms widely in a dramatic form of presentation as the sound effect of a studio crowd cheering mixed with his voice.

"Wha- hold the fuck up? Your daughter??? Didn't you sing to Luci-?"

One glare full of murderous intention and loud static was enough for the spider demon to shut up.

"Now, now, how about we let the newest addition to our merry little band have a well deserved rest." Your dad not so gently pushed the uninvited guests back towards the door.

"Addition? Is she our new guest?" The moth-like demon girl asked.

Alastor's face darkened and loud static filled the room. "A҉b҉s҉o҉l҉u҉t҉e҉l҉y҉ ҉n҉o҉t҉.҉". He swapped back to his more charming persona. "She'll be joining our facility as an assistant!" His tone admitted no further questioning, and, quite reluctantly, the staff and guests left the room.

So that's the story about how you ended working in the Hazbin Hotel.

Your work was mainly small chores or helping others. Nifty needed help to clean the rooms? You were there. Someone needed you to take cover at the reception? On it. Whatever tiny task someone needed help with, you had to do it.

You were not allowed to leave the hotel. Alastor made sure of that. Wherever you went, he made sure some of his shadows followed if he was not around, just to keep you controlled; although he'd rather call it, 'lovingly checking on his little baby'. It really was not needed, even if you didn't trust nobody there and your guard was still up, where else would you go? It was literal hell outside.

Years of hiding and living in constant fear of death or something worse had left you extremely mistrustful and fearful of people. There were times were you believed this was all a ruse to lure you into a false sense of security and then hit you were it hurt most.

It's not like you didn't believe in Charlie's dream, it was just you couldn't believe it could be possible, your father had very sincerely stated that he was just sponsoring it because he loved watching doomed souls struggle to achieve something meaningful and then fail spectacularly. Of course he did.

So, at least you had a roof over your head, enough food to eat, and a no-killing rule inside the hotel. Things could be worse.

Yet, there was still something inside you, something that you so desperately tried to let go but were unable to, as it had rooted itself deeply inside your mind and heart.

It started with small things, maybe a loud sound, maybe a bit of blood, it didn't matter because you could already feel yourself breathing heavily and sweating. It was like the entire world vanished around you. You couldn't breath, you couldn't think, your mind was on edge and your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. You were completely paralized with fear, your hands shaking furiously, making you drop whatever you were holding.

These episodes started becoming more and more frequent, the more you tried to fight against them, the stronger they became. Whenever Charlie, Vaggie or any guest tried to ask you about them you always tried to brush them off, not wanting them to see it as a weak spot to exploit.

After several episodes and you refusing to open yourself, Alastor had enough of watching you suffer and decided to take matters into his own hands. So, he took you to Rosie.

If you expected something out of a place called 'Cannibal Town' it certainly wasn't that. It looked so... normal, like any other town you would have found back in your time. Well, if you ignored the people eating an entire corspe on the street. Your father gently moved your face to face front, because apparently it was rude to stare.

Oh Rosie immediately adored you. 100% godmother material. That southern belle couldn't wait to pamper you and dress you up in all kinds of fancy clothes.

Talking to Rosie was surprisingly, easy, if you looked over her cannibalistic tendencies. She kindly offered you some fresh fingers, but quickly backed up when she saw you turning green, jokingly saying "Ah, teenagers and their diets."

Sessions with Rosie always left you crying and drained but in a positive way, you felt like a huge load had been lifted off your shoulders. It may be a long road ahead but it was a great start.

Talking to Vaggie also helped. Turns out being a former exterminator had left not only physical but psychological scars on her. The first months after she had been left to die in hell had also been very struggling for her. She helped you with breathing exercises, held your hands when they started shaking, and even was willing to teach you some self defence. Which your dad opposed to.

Charlie was... Charlie, always positive and upbribing but also respecting your boundaries, you were almost starting to belive she was being genuine.

There was another member of the staff who had not been present when you were first brought there and you had yet to meet. The King of Hell himself, Lucifer. Just knowing he could be there send shivers down your spine, wondering what kind of diabolical entity could he be. When you first saw that 4' overly excited manchild, at first you thought it was a joke.

Lucifer took a liking to you pretty easily, much to the annoyance of Alastor. He was curious about how someone as innocent and young as you could have ended in a place like that and vowed to protect you if someone ever gave you trouble. Your dad is seething. "Here, take this." And he just gives you a toy duck who backflips and makes the cutest rubber ducky noise. You loved it. Your dad is about to break the no-killing rule.

Alastor tried to win back your trust and love, even if he knew it was going to be a long and arduous task. He didn't care. He just got you back he was never letting you go.

He may not believe entirely in Charlie's dream, but he knew that if it was possible the one who had more chances to go straight to Heaven would be you. And he was not having that.

Alastor briefly considered making a deal to own your soul, just to ensure your safety and his control.

Up to this day he still doesn't know how you ended down there, and can't wait for the day when you will trust him enough to tell him.

He will respect your boundaries begrudgingly, he is your dad, he knows best. Will play nice and let you take your time with things. He will quietly show support for your emotional progress and make light physical contact, just enough to be supportive and not freak you out.

He cooks for you, and only you. The old homemade grandma's recipes he used to make back in your living times. At first, you didn't trust it, thinking he could have poisoned it. But the second you tasted his Jambalaya you felt like crying. Not only because after ninety years barely eating you were famished, but because for a couple of seconds, something there in the taste and smell had brought you back to simpler times. (like the Ratatouille guy)

Alastor truly desires to hear you call him 'Dad' again, you had yet to do so. Yes, you recognise him as your father, but after everything it just pains you to address him as such. It's like your dad and Alastor were two separate people. The loving father vs the serial killer, the guardian vs the Radio Demon.

He really loves you very much and it's been hard on him to keep that much distance from his little fawn. So he takes out his frustration on others, don't turn the radio on when he tells you not to.

And with time, his efforts were rewarded. Somewhat. You seemed to have gotten a bit more comfortably around him, at least you didn't flinch or recoil anytime he approached you. But you couldn't forget, you couldn't overlook the fact that he was a murderer and a cannibal and still doubted if anything you two had lived together had been truly genuine.

Honestly, it offended him that you would even think that way. Wasn't he there for you, always? Didn't he protect you from the darkness of the outside world during your living times? Wasn't he, as a father, devoted enough to his fawn?

But of course, actions spoke louder than words, and his actions had left too many cracks in your trust. But he will keep trying to win you back. Alastor's very patient demon, he has all the time in the world.

Y̸̗͉̺̱͂̕o̸̧̯̞̟̰̪̗̱̳̱̎̈̿̄̄͛̅͝͝û̴̦͔̹͈̣̥̾͛͑͗͋̅̏̂̚ͅ ̷̭͋̈͛̽͒̅̀̈́́̚ă̷̢̢̖̦͕̞͚͔̻̳̅̇̃͌̿͐̄̃̕r̵̨̢̺̦͇͚̙̈́̅̽́̊͠ę̶̺̖͋̐͐͌͘͠͝ ̶̖̲͎̜̮͚͉̰̒n̵̢͕̝͖̗̜̣̾̾̇̾̅̽͊͘ǫ̴̼̺̠̱̦̘̒̈̎̿̇́̔̉t̴͙͇̼̱̻̦̦͔̖͙̍͌ ̸̩̂́̎͒͘g̶͔͚̰̺͔͉͓͍͔̈́̽̈́͋͘͜o̵̹͔̫͚̼͚͒͑į̷̧̫͔̹͉̰̘̮̍͋͒̈n̸̢͕̙̙̞͔̓͐̓ͅg̵͖͇̜͚̗͙̤̫̱̝̉̂́̚ ̴̪̂͑̓̊͛a̷̖̞͊̄̈́͑͋̈́̄͘n̶̻̟̙̝̪̩͂̋͗ẏ̸̨̛̱̱͇̱͖̤͕̥͛́̍̂͛̕͠w̸̛̖͎̫̑h̵͔̝̣̀ẹ̵̝͍̳̟͚̪̍̒͋̒̀̊̏r̷̨͉͉̒̑̉̒̄̎̓̎͜͝͠ȅ̸̩͇̳.̵̠̪̖̍͂͠.

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #tw: ptsd #tw: trauma #tw: cannibalism #tw: controlling behavior

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