Yandere Alastor X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Unwanted Soul = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 (here) — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3

You weren’t a powerful Overlord nor were you the weaker ones to have their souls owned by other demons to survive in this hellhole. You’re merely capable enough to get by your everyday life. Like always, you’d stay clear from any of ongoing battles or powerful demons that were out and about. Your keen 6th sense to pinpoint potential dangers was always your go-to during your outings

You kind of treated Hell as your paradise to shut-in in your room and read all the comics you want plus watch all the TV shows you want. You were one of the rare demons that get connection to the Earth realm where you can enjoy the guilty pleasures you spend your days doing. Of course, your death was a suicide as you saw no life ahead of you

But you really really should have stayed in that day. It started out as any other day in Hell and you were on your way to the usual supermarkets for the junk food and drink you love. Normally, it was uneventful, until you caught sight of a dying demon, no, ‘wounded’ would be the right word since demons would only demon by angelic blades, even you knew that. Still, the demon was heavily wounded

It must have been a good few minutes since you caught weaker demons attempting to take advantage of the weakened demon as easy prey. You immediately took out your notebook, scribbing a phase before tearing it out and blow on it lightly. The page turned to white sparkles before taking shape of a row of angelic spears around you, it launched at the weak demons before they could do anything to the wounded one

You took went to the wounded demon quickly as your spears faded to nothing after doing its damage. You held his limb hand and closed your eyes, visualizing your cozy apartment and the ground swallowed the two of you up. In the blink of an eye, you were back home, sighing in relief

Not even a moment, you were knocked to the ground and pinned down by your shoulders and thigh. You struggled a bit before you realized it was the wounded demon that was pinning you down with radio dials for eyes

Without thinking, you reached into your coat pocket and took out a piece of paper, slamming it onto his face and blew at it. The paper faded to nothing but sparks then the demon stilled before closing his eyes and slumping forward onto you. Unconscious. But you invited someone you shouldn’t have into your home

This had to be Alastor, the Radio Demon

You grimaced, eying Alastor on top of you sleeping like a harmless deer. You thought of throwing him back out into the streets, but you didn’t exactly have the heart to. You came to the conclusion of healing him as fast as you could then sending him on his merry way! Yes!

Noooo!!! Why is he still here!?!?!?!?!?!?!??????!!!!!

“My dear, you really should be taking more care of your diet. This is hardly filling or healthy for you.” Alastor eyed the cup noodle you were about to open up like you were holding trash “But it’s fast and gets my hunger sated.” You eyed back, “It’s not like I’m feeding you this. I cook for your meals anyways…” You continued roaming around the kitchen, rubbing a fork, and setting a timer for your food. Ignoring the closeness of Alastor. “As long as it doesn’t concern you, it’ll be fine. I’ll treat you better since you just healed up. These are my own indulgence.” “And I appreciate your hospitality, dear, truly, I do. The matter at hand is your consumption!” Alastor grabbed your precious cup noodle lunch away, “I shall take over your meals from now on.”

Yes, you have fully healed Alastor and he’s back to full health. No, you didn’t tell him to stay. In fact, the moment his wounds were all healed, you showed him the open door, waiting for him to leave. He didn’t exactly let you make him leave. He said he was staying to repay your kindness, but all he was doing was inserting him into your afterlife and really making it Hell

At first, he praised your unique power to summon anything you write with a gentle blow, especially the part where you put him to sleep the first time. Then he urged you to make a name for yourself, but you really just want to shut yourself in your room and indulge in your time-wasting hobby. You told him off and shut yourself in your room, but he would just appear through the shadows and apologise, saying he’d leave the matter

When that whole business was done, Alastor got worse. You’re positive some other demons would love to be treated this way, but you’re just weirded out. It started out small, Alastor making meals like he said, shifting your schedule to a healthier one. Then taking care of your needs whenever you are about to do something. Even as simple as getting a glass of water

Then it escalated to touches. A handholding here, maybe he’s lean into you while reading. Or he’ll lay next to you in your own bed. Shift closer to you while on the couch. Stare at you while you were busy reading manga or watching animes and shows. Plus you could feel him staring at you while you sleep from the shadows even though you told him not to

But the most unnerving thing was when you would go restock on your food and other supplies. Alastor being the gentleman would carry and pay for your stuff. That you’re used to and didn’t care since either way, you had your methods. It was what happens during the two of you walking

“Alastor…” You hugged your coat tighter as your lips pressed together tightly from the scene, your eyebrows furrowed from the tense situation you were in. You had just left the shop to get new books and volumes, only to be met with such a sight. “What…” “My darling, your timing is perfect.” Alastor threw away the torn body of what used to be a demon. The street was covered with a layer of thick red and black blood. Hellborns and sinners alike were all brutally ripped away by the fearsome Radio Demon. “These pest dares to look at you wrongly, surely they deserve a good, limb pulling.” He walked over to you with his ever-present smile, offering his clean hand. “Shall we head home, My Doe?” You feel yourself tense as you firmly told him, “Just because they stare at me a little long and spat out rude remarks, it’s not an excuse or reason to torture them like this. I’m… I don’t exactly mind unless they attack.” Alastor grabbed your hand and kissed it, “Dearie, why give them the chance to harm you when I can prevent it? You can name and point fingers, I’ll be your killer.”

Trapped was what you felt at home and anywhere, as long as Alastor was there, you didn’t like it. Those sweet romantic gestures and attention from him that you would only see in your books and shows left a bad taste in your mouth. 

At the 4th year, however, something changed. Alastor sold his soul to you as the ‘last’ act of pure devotion and loyalty to you. Since the contract was all by your rules, you made use of it

Limit Alastor’s powers because it scares you how much he could do and the destruction he could cause. Forbid him from devouring or owning souls because he does it so easily when he thinks you were wronged in any way. And most importantly, forbid him from disobeying your words, whatever they may be, that way, you can finally have peace

How Alastor was still able to be this unnerving, you didn’t know and you didn’t want to know. Somehow, the contract was something like a declaration that the two of you were romantically involved with ecah other? If it made sense. It didn’t, really

Alastor still stayed with you because he had told you a long time ago that his home was destroyed in a brutal battle, hence why you found him that battered. So you offered yours. You did manage to set some firmer ground rules with the contract’s help. Like no entering your room or throwing away your junk food

Though Alastor still plays a big part in your life just because. You had wanted a lover before, but Alastor had proven how bad a relationship could go, and you two didn’t even established anything! You love fiction, fiction is life or afterlife. You can just drown yourself in the world of fiction and never leave

That’s the basis of your power. It’s like summoning through writing and the faint blow from your lips. You have to be aware of the components though, the hardest to summon was definitely the angel spears. It was the day after extermination and a spear was stuck into a demon, you were curious and took it back with you. You studied it and tested it out, knowing its strength and limitations before actually attempting to summon it. Works well enough, since it was easy to study

In the blink of an eye, 7 years had already passed. While Alastor was out on buying new ingredients for your celebration dinner of surviving another extermination, you caught the Princess of Hell and her promotion on the ‘Happy Hotel’. A place that welcomes anyone, a place that gives anyone a chance. It sounds lovely, but you didn’t have the mentality and energy to help out

A foolproof plan came to mind. You could, no, should send Alastor there. He loves entertainment! He wouldn’t be bored there! The hotel is much bigger and there’s more people there for him to hang out with. Plus he would definitely get a room there since he’s going to be staying. Even when he disagrees, because you just know he would rather stay by your side, you can use the contract as a last resort

“My dear!” Alastor greeted the moment he came back from his little shopping. He gave you a peak on the crown of your head when he walked past you, then headed to the table to place the bags of items down. “Did you hear about that ridiculous plan the Princess told in the picture box? Hahaha! It’s sure to fail! No way in any universe would just a silly and childish thing happen! No, sir!” “I want to help her with it, it sounds like a good plan. It’s better than annual exterminations.” You spoke while coming over to check the things Alastor brought. “But you know I’m more of a home person and not the go-out and help-others type.” “Exactly, dearie, we need not care for such fantasy.” Alastor nodded along. “That’s why you’re going in my place.” You stated firmly without blinking or shifting in your spot, at the growing static, you looked up to see Alastor’s eyes turned to radio dial. Very rarely are those directed at you since he swore he’d never do you harm or wish you harm. “You’ll go and help the Princess to make it a success.” Alastor’s eyes shifted back to normal, narrowing as he asked, “Till how long, my dear?” You had to control yourself to hide a smile as you spoke, “For as long as it takes of course. You can’t rush redemption, right? And it’s the first of its kind too.” The static grew again, you knew Alastor was getting annoyed with such a wish (order) from you. “But this would take a long while. I’d be returning to check on you, yes?” “Oh, no. Can’t interrupt your work.” You said, carrying your pile of snacks to your little comfort corner and dropping it with huff, there was a skip in your step as you returned back to the table. “You can’t come back here nor see me when in the service of the Princess. Well, you can see me when I’m the one to approach you or call for you, that’s the only exception.” Alastor would have a frown on by now if it weren’t for his insistence on the power of smiles, “Who would take care of you? Who would watch over you? Who would tend to you? Who would protect you while I’m gone, sweetheart?” You laughed, “Don’t be so dramatic. I can handle myself. It’s just like before I met you,” You didn’t miss the radio crackling like it broke connection, “But this time, I have you as a backup should I need.”

Making Alastor leave you wouldn’t have been possible without the contract and the fact that his soul was yours to control. Very pushy but you had to do what you had to, it was all to regain that quiet and isolated shut-in life you love. Never have you missed the silence in your home and the void of a watchful gaze all around you

You squealed and smiled brightly, “Time to chill and laze around!”

Oh how the Radio Demon was fuming as he made his way to that ratchaed hotel. He shouldn’t have let you know of such a news. If that inferno picture box was broken, then you wouldn’t know. No, you have your phone, so that makes no difference. Maybe it was the fact that that cannibal chef was gone that Charlie had time to promote that idea of hers? 

This would be his first appearance since 7 years ago. He kept his presence gone from the public eye just to hide his connection and fancy towards you. If demons knew you had his soul, who knows what danger you’d be in? He can’t let that happen to you. No, you were the kind soul that saved him and gave him a place to belong. Truly belong

Never had he felt such a sense of comfort around someone so lazy and chill. The fact that you were average but powerful in your right that you humble yourself to blend in with others. To live your afterlife as you please and like without a care in the world. So long as your interest was sated

He just couldn’t help but want to be yours. You deserve it, after all

But now. Now he had to provide his attention and care to some princess’ dream! What joke is this?!

Were you sending him away because he wasn’t strong enough? You limited his powers to see if he could still be as strong as before. Was that the reason? What other demon held your attention? As far as he knew. You have no interest in forming connections. He was the first one you actually cared for and hosted your home for! You don’t even own other souls and you’re strong!

He was your only one. Only!

In front of the hotel, he knocked rhythmically, waiting patiently for the door to be opened and for him to introduce himself. He’ll show you. “Hel—” The door closed shut in his face before it opened again, “-lo!”

His ears twitched as he heard the ruckus inside. These souls don’t deserve your time and attention spent on them, he’ll deal with the problem like always and return to your side. He’ll show you just how powerful and cruel he is and can be

The door opened again and he introduced himself with his plan in mind. “Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, princess. Quite a pleasure!”

Note: I really really didn't mean to do this so long... I could have put it into 2 parts, but I was too lazy to. There was actually some more I wanna add, but then it will be a literal essay. Anyways~ How you like this one?

Circe Y.

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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 

You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.

He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!

He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 

But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 

Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 

So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 

Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 

You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 

On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 

She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”

“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 

Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating table. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 

Yes, it is better this way.

That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 

Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 

He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 

However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.

 Nifty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 

He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 

“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 

The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”

“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am in the break room within ten minutes.” 

“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”

You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”

He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”

“Because I know the truth.”

Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 

“I know the truth. “I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with this horrifying truth with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 

The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 

“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”

“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 

In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when you released you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 

“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 

“Release me.”

“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW

“Come to my office in exactly ten minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 

So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?

In ten minutes, he  needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.

What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 

He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling and fussing over you before grabbing you by the hand. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again. He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 

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What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 2

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: Been cooking' this one up for a while now (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I'm not entirely averse to writing smut, just inexperienced at it lmao. I won't gatekeep, though. If the people ask, then they shall receive.  

Enjoy!

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟖𝟎𝟗 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝓼𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮… | 𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪

. . .  

The scent of bitter steamed coffee beans brought great relief to the pent-up radio host as he silently poured himself a cup with a content, close-lipped smile.  

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Alastor looked out the window to catch an eyeful of the radiant sunrise that had graced the horizon and streamed curves of sunlight into his manor, basking it in a feverish crimson glow that faded into a brilliant vermillion.  

Fingernails rapped against the cold marble counter as he took a sip, rejuvenating himself into the chatterbox of a radio host that he usually was. As he hummed along to a little tune in his mind, Alastor allowed his thoughts to silently drift away from reality as he pictured the lovely little dame sleeping the morning away just a door away from his own room. 

You had done something to him, and despite his persistent Cheshire grin, madness and uncertainty lurked beneath his charming expression that won the crowds over wherever he went.  

He couldn’t help it. You were just so unbothered, which bothered him to no end.  

The problem was, you just didn’t care about how renowned nor how respected he was not only as a radio star, but also a man. You were normally quite modest, as was the custom for his time, but had no issue with sticking it to disrespectful scum that dared to cross you, and by extension, him.  

Though, he supposed he didn’t mind it as much as it used to. It had irked him when you had first met, when you treated him as an old friend you met on the schoolyard rather than an esteemed man of his time, your clear superior in every facet.  

But now, after all the evenings spent dancing the twilight away, soft-spoken poetry beside the fire, and spending sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed, with a heat in his lower abdomen and a sudden urge to visit your chambers in the middle of the night...  

The mere thought of you was becoming unbearable, yet a Godsent blessing all the same.  

Alastor took another long, slow sip of coffee and turned his attention to the radio just left of him. It was an old thing his mother bought for him when she found out about his new job as a host at the radio station; she was ecstatic, to say the least, handing him the antique with tears in her large, brown eyes as she wept with happiness at her son’s success.  

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening and closing and footsteps bounding down the stairs brought Alastor’s attention to the staircase that led into the foyer. 

“Good morning~!” Ah, that voice. That buttered, dulcet harmony he wished to soak in every second of the day, the one that made his heart pound uncontrollably and his mind race with hazy, sappy pictures of him and his little darling.  

He didn’t know what his life would’ve been like without you, and he honestly didn’t want to.  

You bounced into the kitchen with fervor, rocking on the heels of your feet as you scooted next to him and poured yourself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, my dear! How was your night?” Alastor subconsciously leaned forward to get closer to you, memorizing every freckle and acne scar on your face and enjoying the soft pink that tinged your cheeks. 

“As good as eva’!” You blessed him with a delighted smile as you took a sip, before eyeing his strong cup of black coffee with a look of judgment.  

Your nose scrunched up in that cute little pout that entertained Alastor so, making him want to reach up and smooth out the small infliction on your face with his thumb.  

Alastor pushed that intrusive – but not unwanted – thought away as you side-eyed him carefully.  

“Hm, whatever wakes you up. Now, come on! You promised me an outing yesterday!” With a teasing elbow to his side and a beam that could rival the Sun’s glowing rays, you were already waiting for him by the front door, and he realized you had been wearing the ivory sundress he bought for you a few days ago when he took you out on the town to celebrate your first day living in his home.

With a soft tsk, Alastor took your woolen winter jacket off of the antlers of the stately coat rack beside the front door, sliding it over your arms while shaking his head.

"Wouldn't want you freezing out there, darling," you rolled your eyes and shifted the wooly jacket on your shoulders, marching towards the front door with your nose in the air.

"You worry too much! I'd have been fine without it. It'll be spring soon, anyway." Alastor raised an eyebrow.

He had to stifle the urge to point out that it'd be two months to March, and it rained incessantly during the months of spring, lest he want to miss the reservation and sit there all morning arguing over the temperature.

“Careful, now. Perhaps I should cut you off the caffeine,” Alastor chuckled and graciously opened the door for you like the gentleman he was.  

“Haha! Aw, you’re so funny! Cut me off and I’ll cut off your arm,” you replied sweetly without missing a beat.  

Alastor simply laughed, undeterred in the slightest by your unusual humor. He had grown quite fond of it in the past few months, though he was absolutely floored by it the first time you made a joke like that. 

At least, he thought it was a joke. You were quite irritable when sleep-deprived, to his amusement and your disdain.  

Besides, the thought of you? Cutting him up? Such an absurd, comical notion only served to make him laugh harder.  

With a giggle, you stepped over the threshold and nodded gratefully at Alastor, who smiled back and joined you on the rocky path through the marshy forest that grew around his home.  

Subconsciously, you reached for Alastor’s already offered arm without even looking, and he could’ve swooned at how you instinctively held him. Touched him.  

A comfortable silence settled between you two as you strolled through the dewy thicket, content to simply be in one another’s company while Alastor snuck subtle glances at his excitable little darling that strode next to him at a steady pace.  

Large, curious eyes gaped at everything around you as if you’d never seen a tree before. An adorable sight, he figured, one that convinced him that keeping you around for just a bit longer couldn’t hurt, and Alastor did not wish to hurt you.  

How silly, that a mere expression from his cute little doll could make him melt under its warmth akin to the sweltering summer Sun in the middle of July. He was practically a slave to it.  

Alastor realized he had been outright staring at you, and he silently cursed himself as he quickly turned his gaze away.  

The morning chorus composed of waking songbirds and rising cicadas filled the content quiet as you took a closer step out of the forest and towards the city. You resisted the temptation to relax your head against Alastor’s arm, to get just a little closer to him, though every glimpse of the young, chipper radio host weakened your resolve further.  

How could it not? He was the perfect gentleman in your eyes, polished and refined to the highest caliber. Sweet and charming, and he clearly detested laying a malicious or unwanted hand on any woman. And boy, could the man cook!  

It was clear to you which parent was more present in his life, but you made no comment on it in the months that you had known him. You didn’t wish to brush up upon such a sensitive subject, especially since you were quite similar to him in that aspect. If anyone brought up your loving mother, who tried to provide every advantage she could offer to her little girl, you would’ve broken down in tears, years of bottled-up emotions overflowing your tired, overworked heart.  

But then Alastor came along and helped you up, making your head spin and your world turn upside-down. He gave you stability, comfort, everything your mother hoped you would one day find in a husband. 

The cheeky, mischievous, dapper, handsome, goddamned bastard. 

You sighed with a smile, forlorn but hiding against a mask of demureness.  

“It’s beautiful here.”  

“It truly is.” Alastor observed the thick, swamp-like forest with a fond smile, before his eyes landed on you. His darling, his little blessing, his diamond in the rough. These feelings... perhaps they wouldn’t be so bad, after all. They could bring about something new, a slight change in routine that he had long since needed, but never discovered.  

Not until his doll stumbled into his life.  

Alastor’s carefree smile brought you a great giddiness that bubbled deep within your chest and rose to warm your cheeks. Here we go again.  

Nervously, you peeked up at your handsome, ever-smiling escort, trying not to completely fangirl like a child at how close you both were as the marshy path turned into a stark-black road covered in rubble and pebbles.  

“Al?”

“Hm?”

“Where are you taking me?”  

Alastor’s smile seemed to grow even wider at your confusion. “Oh, you’ll see, my dear~.”  

You huffed and pouted, turning your head away from him so he couldn’t spot your blush. God, why did he have to call you that, standing in the pure, radiant sunlight and looking so perfect and handsome and kissable-?  

“We’re here!” You hadn’t even realized how long you had been walking as you found yourself in front of a quaint little diner that you had been eyeing for quite some time.  

And, of course, Alastor noticed. He knew everything about you. What kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t pay the utmost attention to his darling?  

As Alastor opened the door for you and stepped inside behind you, he reveled in the small gasp you let out, as well as your mouth falling slightly agape so that he had to close it with a single, slim finger.  

"You don't want to catch flies, my dear~.” You blushed and nodded as you continued to look around in awe.  

The diner was quite vintage by today’s standards, and as such, it held the intimate charm that no other restaurant could seem to replicate. There was even a little corner selling small bobs and trinkets, antique ornaments and a small, dusty wooden music box with faded paint engraved in the sides. 

Like a cozy, nostalgic retreat, the restaurant gave you the sense of a home. A home that your mother never built for you, as she preferred to teach you to survive in this cruel world. But she did her best, didn’t she? She tried, didn’t she? 

You oppressed those thoughts as you bounced on your heels in front of the desk, where Alastor was making his reservation.  

Of course, he planned this.  

You could probably shack up in that diner and it would feel like it was any other visit to your grandmother’s house, you figured as you subconsciously gripped Alastor’s arm even tighter with stars in your eyes.  

While you were bouncing on your heels like a child, smiling and gushing contently at everything you could possibly lay your eyes on in the small corner restaurant, Alastor was making sharp eye contact with the busboy who leaned attentively over the counter, trying to get a better look at the pretty young flower who wandered into his view like a naive doe.  

Alastor didn’t like that look, to say the least.  

He knew it all too well. The kind of darkened, sinister expression that only a predator could wear.  

He brought a slender hand carefully around your shoulder and pulled you close, making you squeak and look up at him with wide eyes.  

Alastor ignored your confusion in favor of pulling you tightly into him, and the young man scowled slightly before snatching two menus off the counter and leading you both towards a cozy little table tucked into the very back of the restaurant. 

Small string bulbs hung above you, basking the table in a warm halo of light as you sat down, and you began ordering your drinks. 

"A glass of water will do," Alastor didn't take his eyes off you since you sat down, enjoying how the flickering candle lit up your face and made your eyes seem illuminated in the dim light. 

"And you, Ma'am?" 

"Just some orange juice, please," you smiled politely as the busboy scribbled down your orders and left the both of you in silence. 

After a while of admiring the scenery of the restaurant for the hundredth time, you finally turned back to Alastor and folded your hands in your lap. "Thank you for taking me here, Al'. It’s really nice here!”  

"Anything for you, my dear!" Alastor rested his chin on intertwined hands, leaning forward until he was only a foot away from you. 

A sly Cheshire smile curled the slim tips of his lips upward. "How are you finding things here, darling? I do hope I have been of favorable company~..."

You waved him away with a roll of your eyes, "Oh, please, you know I love it here. I couldn't imagine leaving now..." you trailed off softly, thinking about how you up and dropped everything for some guy. 

Then again, he wasn't just some stupid fling that you wanted to leech off of. You genuinely enjoyed Alastor's energetic, yet suave nature, his spirited presence, his voice... 

God, you sounded like a lovesick teenager. 

"So, about your radio show..." 

Alastor immediately perked up, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. 

"Hm? What about it, my dear?" 

You clenched and unclenched your fists as you worked yourself up to ask. "C-Could I watch you?" You nearly slapped yourself for your wording, convinced that he could see the blush instantly spreading across your face, even in the dim lighting. 

Alastor raised his eyebrows as he blinked in surprise, his smile - just for a millisecond - faltering slightly in uncertainty as the gears turned in his head. 

Shaking off his surprise, Alastor grinned widely at your flustered expression as your fists bunched up your beautiful sundress in frustration, your eyes looking at everything but him as you all but twiddled your fingers as he asked for you to draw out the question. 

"I mean, could I uh... Listen to you? L-Like in person?" You looked about ready to hurl yourself out the window as Alastor tried to make himself look as if he was thinking about it, when in reality his mind was going ninety miles a minute. 

The sadistic, yet ever-adoring part of him thought that seeing your cute little face all flushed and abashed with embarrassment had to be the highlight of this day. Another part of him swelled with pride that you wanted to make a little visit to him in his recording booth.

Then again, you both had been working at the same studio for a while, and what's an hour off of work for his lovely little Doll? You deserved it for working so hard, after all!

Before Alastor could come up with a response, however, the waiter butted himself right into your very riveting conversation that he had absolutely no authority to interrupt. 

"Here you go, one water for you, and one orange juice for the stunning little lady," he flashed you a wide grin and took out his notepad and pen.  

You both hesitantly ordered, before Alastor answered your question with a strained smile.

"Why, of course you may, darling! I'd be honored to have my favorite listener see one of my broadcasts up close," Alastor leaned back with a carefree grin and a sip of water, enjoying how elated you seemed at the thought of spending a simple broadcast session with him. Then again, he supposed anyone would be falling to their knees at the opportunity, but the fact that it was you made the feeling all the more palpable. 

When the food arrived, you both ate and conversed, with you bursting at the seams with excitement at the possibility of visiting Alastor while he hosted his radio broadcast, and his mind conjuring very work-inappropriate outfits he could choose to make you wear, claiming you'd look stunning in all of them. 

"Oh, but I really couldn't wear this... I mean look at it!" 

"But you'd look just dazzling in this, my Doe, I just know it! You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you~?"

"I suppose not, Sir..."

Alastor could imagine your timid, adorable little face tinged with pink as you handed him his morning coffee just how he liked it - dark as his soul - in a tight little pencil skirt and a form-fitting chiffon blouse. 

His eyes drifted elsewhere around your form as he envisioned your skirt riding up those supple hips of yours as you nervously rubbed up against him as he took his favorite knife, slicing off each one, his predatory smile growing with each pop. 

Soon, the sun had fully risen above the horizon, a luminous, pale light tinged with yellow basking the forest in captivating morning light. With a single glance down at his watch, Alastor’s brows rose when he realized you’d spent nearly an hour at the diner. 

“Oh, dear! It seems we’ve lost track of time,” he rose from his seat and offered you a hand to pull you along with him. 

“Let me pay this time,” but Alastor held out a hand before you could do the great disservice of paying for your food as he threw your waiter a fifty-dollar bill and headed for the exit, excitement lacing his every step as he pushed you out of the restaurant. The earlier for his radio show, the better! 

You tried to open the door for Alastor this time, but he smoothly slipped in behind you and twisted the knob, smiling even wider when you slapped him playfully on the shoulder. 

"After you, my dear~," he grinned with a mischievous glint dancing within his honey-brown eyes.

"Thanks, Al’." you grinned up at him before turning to wave at the man who served you at the counter. 

"Have a good one, beautiful," your waiter gave you a flirtatious wink, and you were too stunned at his forwardness to respond as Alastor practically forced you out of the diner with a peeved smile that dipped slightly into a scowl. 

"Well, he was quite friendly, wasn't he?" You nearly snorted at Alastor's obvious bad mood, having never seen him so irked before. 

"Oh, don't tell me you're jealous~?" It was your turn to tease the ever-grinning radio host as he spun towards you so fast your own head spun. 

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing!" He sounded almost offended as he huffed and crossed his arms with nose in the air. Drama queen... 

"Well, you were quite friendly with him," you muttered sarcastically, before squinting up at him in the sunlight with a furrowed brow. "And what was with grabbing me like that, right in front of the poor guy?"

"He was... ogling you, darling. I couldn't stand for such disrespect to my friend, especially on our lovely outing this morning!"

You gaped at him incredulously, "I remember no such thing! Perhaps you're seeing things, or you just wanted an excuse to hold me~," you were surprised to see a tinge of blush coat Alastor's cheeks, just a small spot of it before it quickly faded.

"This is why I don't like it when you drink coffee, my dear! You're too disagreeable," his lips jutted out in a soft pout, and his eyes remained solely on the road as his hand tightened on your shoulder, but he couldn't keep his frown for long as you started laughing at him.

Your chiming laughter ended abruptly with a gasp when a rough hand tugged on your wrist. Looking back, you saw your waiter with sweat sheening his face, his hair messy from clearly running the entire way outside to catch up to you and Alastor. 

"H-Hello...?" 

"Hey, there, *ahem*, I, uh, I was thinking about asking you if you wanted to go out with me, sometime?" 

You blinked several times, processing his question before straining a polite smile and pulling your wrist away, but the young man wasn't budging.

"No thank you, sir, I'd rather walk with my friend now, as we both have places to be." The waiter didn't let up, pure desperation reflected in his eyes as he leaned towards you, and you recoiled from the stink of sweat and the uncomfortable heat that radiated off of him.

"Aw, c'mon, I promise we won't be long!"

"Excuse you, but I-!"

"Thank you for the kind offer, but my darling and I are about to go on a little stroll, so if you could kindly take your hands off of her..." Alastor laid his near bone-crushing grip upon the busboy's arm, ready to pry his hand off of you if necessary.

Perhaps I'll pry an arm off while I'm at it... 

"I wasn't talkin' to you, Sticks."  

"Hands. Off." Alastor's voice cut through the air like a sharpened butcher knife. It was the first time that you had ever witnessed the radio host's everlasting simper curl into a sneer, as his lips rose just enough above his gums in clear displeasure. 

And could he be blamed for it? It was enough to make his temper froth and burst beneath the surface at seeing such rotten, unworthy vermin think to lay a single finger on you. He was doing the public a service, getting rid of it. 

"G-Get off me! Fuckin' freak-" 

"As soon as you let go of the lady and apologize." Alastor retorted calmy with the waiter's wrist trapped in his tightening vice grip.

"I-It's fine, Alastor. Let him go," nervously you tugged on his rolled-up shirtsleeve, but when that didn't work, you squeezed his shoulder, and he whipped his head around to you so fast you thought you were going to get whiplash. 

"Let's go home, Al... Please?" Once again, he fell completely under the mercy of your wide, worried eyes, of you touching him. And willingly, that was. Alastor didn't need to beg, nor force himself upon you for attention.

Such an obvious fact had him preening with pride, and obviously had the insignificant worm dripping with envy as Alastor smirked down at the busboy. 

"Alastor...?" 

Snapping out of his little bout of victory, Alastor didn't need any further persuasion as he ripped the poor man's hand off of yours with an uncharacteristically phony smile. You then noticed, with a slight shiver up your spine, how alarmingly sharp his teeth seemed when they were bared like that. 

"If you insist, my dear." 

Alastor wrapped a slender hand around your shoulder and pushed you around towards the path where preserved red brick melded into a rocky dirt road as you tried to ignore the pained groans of that pesky little street rat behind you. 

Your walk back was spent in complete silence yet again, but now rather than a comfortable, mutual quiet, a tense atmosphere filled the air. 

The pastels of imminent dawn had fully faded when you both arrived at the house, and, ever the gentleman, Alastor kindly opened the door for you with a polite simper, and you shyly nodded in return before stepping inside. 

"Alastor, I..." 

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, my dear. Truly, I..." 

He sighed and clenched the gold-colored doorknob within his fist as he closed the front door behind him, "I hate seeing such disrespect to those of fairer means." 

You smiled softly. Oh, his mother raised him well, didn't she? "Well, thank you for protecting me. I just can't stand men like that, y'know? Nice to know we have a couple of good ones out there."

"I just don't want to think about what I would've done if I were alone," the radio host immediately sensed your unease as you rubbed your arms nervously.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't ever let anyone hurt you." Alastor murmured with a gentle hand on your cheek. He'd be sure to never allow you outside without his supervision, not with yahoos like that idiotic scumbag running about. 

Your nervous smile melted into a small, grateful simper as you nodded and let him tussle your hair softly before patting the small of your back and pushing you upstairs. 

"Now, we have a lovely day ahead of ourselves, so go and get ready, so we can get to the studio in time." Looking down at his watch again, Alastor noted that it was now 8:06 in the morning, and his radio show began at 9:00 A.M. on the weekdays.

Alastor simpered to himself as morning light streamed across his face, casting shadows over his eyes and lips while he could only imagine the awe, you'd watch him with. 

Alastor had an hour to truly captivate you, capture you with only your attention. 

And soon, even that wouldn't be enough. 

He'd need to bind you to him, tie you to him heart, body, and soul. 

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Wow, that was a long one. Don't worry, I'm working on making the next chapter a lot shorter, but I had a lot of ideas stewing and I needed to put them somewhere.

I might consider uploading this to A03, if I find a way to dispel the infamous A03 Writer's Curse, so let me know if ya'll would read it on that platform, since I haven't posted anything on that website for a while now.

Thank you for reading! ৻(≧ᗜ≦৻)

. . .

➺ 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 3

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: Yup, we're getting into it now. Remember that this man is literally a cannibalistic serial killer who convenes with dark spirits and shit.

But I think that just makes him more attractive tbh.

Btw this man is like 6'1 in this story in his human form, so do with that information as you wish. ;)

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟕𝟔𝟖 𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐖: Descriptive gore, sacrificial rituals, just Alastor-coded shenanigans and levels of down horrendous I'm embarrassed to share... 😭👍 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: - ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴜɪᴛꜱ | ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴏᴍᴀ - ꜱʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ

. . .

There was always a moment when Alastor had to take a small smoke before finishing off his prey, allowing the adrenaline of the hunt to wear off as he reveled in his latest kill.  

A gentle evening wind brushed against his ears, ruffling his cocoa-brown hair as he smiled up at the full moon with teeth as white as its luminous surface. Translucent curtains of gloom drifted past the celestial orb of night, just as the scent of a marshy swampland drifted up and enveloped Alastor in its nostalgic, wistful aroma of home.  

Though he relished the private, intimate moments he spent with you, times like these, where his mind could simply slip away from the drag of life and reflect upon the day, were as precious and rare as gold.  

Alastor simpered to himself as he fixated upon you being the star-struck little darling you were, mad with elation to finally be able to watch him host his radio show in the studio you both worked at. And he imagined you’d needed such a treat, after your delightful breakfast at that restaurant you’d wanted to try out for so long.  

It was too bad. Alastor quite liked that cozy little diner. Oh, well.  

Perhaps you could work there yourself, now that a fresh, new spot for a job had opened up at the restaurant, perfect for a lovely little doll like you. You wouldn’t have to deal with your rather overbearing supervisor anymore, who gave Alastor much more leeway than you.  

Ha! Who was he kidding? Like he’d ever let you take so much as six steps away from him, from the safety he could provide.  

He couldn't have you running around willy-nilly, gaining the attention of unworthy scumbags, after all! 

Then again, Alastor didn’t mind the image of you rushing around, serving him ever so politely in one of those form-flattering, tight waitress uniforms that had swept New Orleans recently.  

But that was an experience for him, and him alone. Besides, the reverie of having you as a pretty little assistant would do just fine, for now. Perhaps he could bring that idea to fruition, someday.  

Oh, one can only dream!  

With a last puff of smoke that condensed in the chilly night air, Alastor disposed of the cigarette and ground it into the dirt path with his heel. Maybe he could use an assistant around the studio; being the most charming, captivating voice in all of Louisiana wasn’t easy, after all! 

Plus, it meant more alone time with you, and your dazzling, melodic voice, and that divine smile that he could only wish to be blessed with. He drank it all up, your enthusiasm to be in his presence, your witty yet flustered company...

God, he could just eat you up–  

Muffled groans and wails broke him from his peaceful midnight musing, and he turned his attention towards the small shack he used. Normally, he’d relish in such helplessness from his latest kill, though his patience was wearing thin, tonight.  

But Alastor needed this one to be alive. The Loa didn’t favor cold, dead prey.  

Then again, it never complained of the condition its scraps were in. Only that Alastor could provide any. 

“Why, hello there!” The radio host’s air of exuberant showmanship rolled off him in waves as he stood above the crumpled form of the waiter who had insulted Alastor’s very being with his rotten presence.  

A throbbing pain at the front of his head where he had been knocked out with a bat ached painfully, and he cradled his wound with an anguished groan.  

“Ouch! That’s got to hurt, ha-ha!” Polished western-style shoes thumped against the wooden floor of the shack as Alastor made his way over to his victim, before bashing his head against the floor, reveling in his pained groan before he slumped in Alastor’s grip.  

“Hm, a bit meatier than I had expected... He’ll have quite a feast, tonight!” A dark chuckle, laced with venom and coated with mirth filled the small room, and Alastor hoisted the body over his head and dragged the unconscious prey out into the forest.  

Darkness enveloped the waiter’s mind, like a weighted blanket upon his consciousness as the pain worsened, before fading as his body gave out.  

. . .   

The sound of shoveling and short, exhausted huffing awakened him as he slowly came to, and the wintry night air brought him from slumber like the bony, thinned hands of Death itself.  

Shadows danced around his vision as his eyes fluttered open, and the light of Alastor’s lantern roused him fully awake. The quiet croaking of frogs, and the midnight lullaby of chirping crickets filled the otherwise eerie silence. A large, wilting tree hung over him, where moss and fungus sprouted from each branch as its hanging leaves reached down to him and the scent of dampened swampland baffled his senses. 

W-Where... Where the hell am I...?

Alastor watched with an amused smile as the pitiful lad tried to raise a hand to hoist himself up from the dirt, only to struggle for a few moments against his cursed restraints that bound him to the forest floor.  

Slim-fit gloves tightened against the handle of his shovel as Alastor leaned against it with a condescending grin, moonlight bouncing off his glasses as he looked down at the pitiful prey.  

“Oh, please don’t struggle too much. I did go to all that trouble of tying you up, after all,” Alastor cooed from his standing position above his victim, like he could possibly escape from the rune-encrusted stakes he had been bound to. 

“Now, be polite...  

And say hello to my old friend, for me.”  

A gust of wind howled around the pair, bringing Alastor’s attention towards the crooked trees standing tall against the swamp. The bushes rustled softly beneath its branches, when suddenly, a buck jumped out from behind the bramble, kicking at the dirt and eyeing Alastor’s little summoning circle with curiosity.  

It was a shame he hadn’t brought his hunting gun; those magnificent antlers would’ve been a dazzling addition to his collection. 

Also, the idea of impressing you with such a display had Alastor catching himself drifting off into his fantasies yet again. He really needed to stop doing that. You were turning the demented radio host into a moony-eyed sap, and in the middle of a sacrifice, no less!  

The deer slowly trotted towards Alastor with its head tilted in confusion as it eyed him, regarding the man with caution.  

Slowly, the radio host lowered himself into a respectful bow, and the buck reciprocated. It strayed a little closer, and a step too far proved to be its undoing.  

Crack.  

The busboy jolted with each snap of bone within the animal's body, the grotesque sounds echoing across the forest. The deer grew suddenly limp and collapsed upon the forest floor as the waiter’s eyes bulged out of his head. 

“W-What...? What the fuck is that!?” Alastor ignored his victim’s struggle behind him as he kicked at the chilled, marshy dirt with his bare, scabbed feet, hoping to create some distance between himself and the massive, horned beast that was forming rapidly.  

A futile effort, really... 

An animalistic screech of anguish would be the last sound that the deer ever made, as it finally fell completely under the control of whatever unholy beat had been foolishly summoned into existence. Shadows flooded the inside of the poor animal, hollowing it out at a rapid rate, and the unseen horror took its puppet upon a sleeve to speak to the mortal who summoned it. 

Whether it was utterly foolish or terribly sadistic was a true mystery. A gamble that made these little summonses the least bit entertaining, particularly if it was the latter. 

The sound of groaning wood echoed across the forest as two large, crooked antlers bent towards the sky. The creature’s hanging ribcage protruded from the gaping hole in its stomach, revealing bloody, mossy innards riddled with mold and buzzing flies that gluttonously fed upon the mangled buck's entrails. 

An ominous emerald glow shimmered within the buck’s maw, and two stark-black eyes fell into its open mouth, before sliding down its tongue

The deer's organs were promptly squeezed out of the corpse's slit belly and dropped onto the ground as the carcass thinned dramatically. A puddle of thick, glistening liquid that was much too dark to be considered regular animal blood had gathered beneath it.

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Squelch. 

Tarred, ashen-gray skin glimmered underneath the moonlight, as a guttural roar shook the forest, leaving the branches trembling with terror. Alastor stood before the beast with his hands crossed behind his back with an unbothered, almost bored expression.  

As the Loa stood before him in its complete, beastly form, Alastor brushed off an imaginary speck of dirt from his coat sleeve before opening his arms up to his old friend with a wide grin that nearly split his face in half. It had been a while since he’d borne witness to a proper summoning.  

“Quite a good show, my friend! Captivating as always,” Alastor called out cheerfully, clapping once or twice in emphasis.  

“Ɱվ ƒօɾʍ էąҟҽʂ էհҽ ìժҽղէìէվ օƒ ҽąçհ ʂօմӀ էհąէ çąӀӀʂ էօ ʍҽ, འօէէҽժ ටղҽ,” the Loa's voice answered his old friend in a deep, gravely rasp from the mutilated buck's unhinged jaw. It stood proudly on its hind legs as it hunched over Alastor with a low rumble, and the stench of rotting flesh overpowered the natural, swampy scent of the forest, to the radio host’s distaste. 

“Then I do hope my soul has been quite the treat to replicate!” he clasped his hands together behind his back, folding his arms tightly behind him. 

“చհվ հąʂէ էհօմ çąӀӀҽժ ʍҽ հҽɾҽ, մքօղ էհìʂ ղìցհէ?” Its impatience wore thin as it looked upon the setting of the candlelit circle, and the pleasant aroma of fresh blood brought the Loa’s attention to the young man tied up behind Alastor.  

“Why, of course! How impolite of me to keep you waiting,” the excited glint in the radio host’s eye evolved into a look of complete madness as he gestured to the poor sap behind him, who gaped up at the Loa’s ghastly form in horror.  

“Presenting the main course for tonight, this pitiful little insect that I had the unfortunate displeasure of stumbling upon! Though it seems this chap appears to be faring far worse than I!” A cynical chuckle dripped from his thin-lipped grin as he bowed before the Loa like a true showman.  

Alastor hadn’t even noticed he had been rambling like a supervillain, monologuing about his latest victim as if it were a typical evening hosting his radio show. 

“įէ ʂҽҽʍʂ էհօմ հąէհ.. φҽɾʂօղąӀ հìʂէօɾվ աìէհ էհìʂ օղҽ,” the Loa rumbled thoughtfully, now circling the panicking prey as he thrashed in his roped constraints. 

“Ah, just a little disagreement, is all. Apparently, manners are no longer an important matter of discussion within one’s own household,” Alastor ‘tsked’, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “A shame, truly.”   

“įէ ʂʍҽӀӀʂ ƒɾҽʂհ,” the horned creature inhaled deeply, stinking putridly of decay as he bent over the trembling busboy, its skeletal back cracking and snapping as he further hunched over. Its victim blubbered pathetically, shaking his head as hopeless tears spilt from his eyes while he choked out helpless pleads. 

“Ꝉìҟҽ… Ͳҽɾɾօɾ…”   

In a flurry of shadows, the Loa pounced upon its feast, rumbling with fervor and gluttony as its fangs tore through flesh, ripping its prey apart as it aimed for the meatiest bits of its meal.  

The agonized moans of the damned that protruded from the Loa's maw conducted the symphony of terror, and the screams of the disrespectful runt carried the harmony as Alastor stood off to the side, relishing the gory display.  

When the Loa had finished, a long, blackened tongue licked its chops as it rumbled in satisfaction. It turned towards Alastor, who bowed before it, as was a respectful custom whenever the God finished its meal. 

"Ͳհìʂ աąʂ զմìէҽ ʂąէìʂƒąçէօɾվ. చհąէ çąӀӀʂ մքօղ էհվ ʂքօղէąղҽօմʂ օƒƒҽɾìղց, էօղìցհէ, ȺӀąʂէօɾ…?" 

"Oh, I was just taking out some trash. Honestly, you're doing me quite a favor, old friend! Think of it as a celebration for our friendship," Alastor grinned impudently, before bidding the Loa a silent farewell as he turned on his heel. 

"Now, I'm afraid that our time together must be cut short. I have a little darling to check up upon, and she is quite the feisty one, I'll have you know!" Oh, how perfectly this night had ended. Ridding himself, and you the trouble of ever dealing with such a pest ever again, and cuddling up to you while discussing your day over dinner, and ending it with a-

"చհօ ìʂ ʂհҽ?" 

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his smile beginning to strain and actually make his cheeks ache as he half-turned back to the Loa. Fuck.  

It seems that his utter enthusiasm for running his mouth about you has overridden his reasoning. 

"Whatever do you mean, my friend? Don't tell me you've taken a liking to my darling?" He pointed a teasing finger at it with a wide, knowing smirk that bordered upon a warning. 

The god eyed Alastor with pure contempt, before huffing impatiently and nodding towards Alastor's house in the distance. 

"Ƕҽɾ. Ͳհҽ βɾìցհէ ටղҽ. చհҽղ հąʂէ էհօմ ƒąӀӀҽղ ƒօɾ ʂմçհ ƒɾìѵօӀìէìҽʂ?" 

Alastor stubbornly clasped his hands together behind his back and stood tall as the ancient god bent down towards his level, empty sockets glowing an emerald green and practically blinding him as it asked again. 

"į աìʂհ էօ ҟղօա օƒ էհìʂ… ժìʂէɾąçէìօղ էհąէ հąʂէ էհҽҽ ìղ ą ҍìղժ ʂմçհ ąʂ էհìʂ," for the first time in thousands of years, the god's interest had been caught. Quite a peculiarity, considering that the Loa did not care for petty mortal matters that Alastor would rarely partake in himself, but the mention of a girl brought slight surprise to it. 

And judging by the glimpses the ancient being took within Alastor's mind, he could understand why the radio host had taken such a liking to you. 

Like the sway of wind, by the bloom of daffodils, you were akin to a wicked, unruly summer wind sweeping up sea salt and touching the hearts of those you met, everywhere you went. 

A rare commodity, in a corrupt world such as this. 

"Oh, well I suppose I must've slipped the word about her. Well!" Alastor placed his fingertips together as the memory of first meeting you surfaced in his mind.  

"I'd be happy to tell you how we met! It all began when I came across the darling little Doll in a charming diner. I'll tell you; the place couldn't have shined as much as it had without her presence, ha-ha!" 

The eldritch horror noted the complete adoration that swept the normally deranged man off his feet. Alastor’s animated announcer's voice and occasional jazz hands did all the talking for him as he spoke of you. 

The spirit never thought it'd see the day... 

"She was certainly efficient at her job, as well! Carried the entire restaurant on her back, in my humble opinion," of course, Alastor was completely biased in his reasoning. He'd take any excuse to sing your praises all night. 

"Why, she even gave me a shock when she rolled into the building with a pair of skates, one Thursday afternoon! Quite the compliment to that stunning dress pattern, I must say..." 

How curious, that the boy the Loa had met all those years ago, the one who seemed to have no such interest in pursuing relationships, who outwardly expressed disgust at the mere thought of being touched found someone like you to keep him company. 

"So, I decided to give the Doe a chance at my radio station, and we immediately hit it off!" The radio host's smile nearly cracked his face in half as he fondly recalled his first meeting with you, and the spirit tilted its head to the side. 

How strange, indeed... 

Well, now it just had to meet the girl who had captivated Alastor so and sprung upon this new sacrifice earlier than what was expected of him. 

Then, the Loa nodded towards the direction of Alastor's house in the twilight, softly hitting its hoof against the ground with an insistent thud. 

"į աìʂհ էօ ʍҽҽէ հҽɾ. į աąղէ էօ ҟղօա ահąէ ҟìղժ օƒ ʂօմӀ հąʂ çąքէìѵąէҽժ էհҽҽ ʂօ." 

Alastor slowly turned towards the beast, whose antlers seemed to grow even larger in return, sensing the human's challenge. 

"And what makes you believe that you have a right to meddle in my life, if it does not offend you to ask? Her soul is not yours, and her heart shall soon lie with me."  

The Loa huffed, before bowing its head towards the maddened, lovesick mortal. How foolish, the way such silly human matters have clouded the ever-articulate mind of one of his oldest acquaintances.  

Honestly, what did Alastor think it was going to do? Snatch you away from him? 

Like it'd ever get the chance. 

"βմէ ìէ ժօҽʂղ'է. ហօէ աìէհìղ çմɾɾҽղէ çìɾçմʍʂէąղçҽʂ. į çօմӀժ ƒì× էհąէ, հօաҽѵҽɾ," The Loa rumbled, knowing it was pricking at a soft spot as the young man shot him an unamused glare with a raised eyebrow.  

"į ʂհąӀӀ ҍҽ ժìʂçɾҽҽէ, օƒ çօմɾʂҽ. Ⱥ ʍҽɾҽ ìղէҽɾƒҽɾҽղçҽ ƒɾօʍ ąƒąɾ." Alastor scoffed and fully turned to the Loa with a sneer darkening his too-wide smile, his teeth seeming sharpened in the glint of the moonlight. 

To the Loa, Alastor appeared merely to be a puppy baring its pint-sized fangs. 

"Ha-ha! You seem to misunderstand me, my friend," he stepped boldly towards the beast, his hands folded behind his back with half-lidded eyes that dared it to cross the very clear line he had drawn.  

"I believe you have crossed a bit of a line, there, implying that I do not own her heart," the radio host sneered; a threatening grimace hidden behind a thin mask portraying a cheeky, unbothered smile. But the underlying threat was clear. You were not to be touched. 

Honestly, Alastor reminded the Loa of another, more ethereal being it had met long ago. Madly in love and willing to do anything, preform any atrocity, to protect his fleeting fancy. Looking back, he was rather short for someone of his status, and impossibly pale, having a sort of 'heavenly' hue to it. 

How ironic. 

The Loa looked upon the human with slight amusement dancing within its soulless, ominously glowing sockets. The mortal held such determination, such drive to keep you solely within his hold, a kind of devotion it hadn’t seen in centuries. 

Such a pitiful display of favor for his new toy had the Loa truly interested, now. It was sure that Alastor would do anything to keep you, anything to win your affections. 

Of course, good things came to those who waited. And so, with a soft nod, the Loa dropped the subject. 

“Ⱥʂ էհօմ աìʂհҽʂ. Ͳհօմցհ, ʍìղҽ օƒƒҽɾ ʂհąӀӀ ʂէìӀӀ ʂէąղժ." 

“Duly noted.” And with that, Alastor’s clipped tone snapped through the air, cutting off the conversation entirely. The distant hum of insects whispered against his ears as he waited for the Loa’s dismissal. 

"ƑąɾҽաҽӀӀ, འօէէҽժ ටղҽ. į հąѵҽ ҍմʂìղҽʂʂ ҽӀʂҽահҽɾҽ.” Finally, the Loa turned away from the mortal, its shadows dropping the corpse of the deer and vanishing from the scene. Alastor paid no mind to it, however, as there typically wouldn’t be any human nor animal remains, come sunrise. 

The god fed gluttonously, after all. 

Alastor swiftly turned on his heel and started back upon the path. “Adieu, my good friend! I do hope we’ll see each other again,” as he strode further away from the ghastly terror, all mirth had evaporated from his voice, leaving a biting cold edging at his words and rivaling the winter chill as he neared the house. 

But every step closer to you thawed his heart as he strolled through the bramble, choosing to shove away the thoughts that mulled over the Loa's offer. That would be something for 'Tomorrow Alastor' to deal with.

It wasn't long before he had finally made it back to the house, confidently striding across the forest as if nothing had ever happened, and Alastor slipped through the front door, brief as the wind and quiet as a shadow.

He was quite disappointed to see you had left for a bed, and his heart panged with guilt at the thought of you solemnly retreating to your quarters when you realized Alastor was probably working late tonight.

It was far from the truth, but it'd suffice as a good cover.

I'll make it up to her tomorrow.

Carefully, Alastor crept up the stairs, avoiding each loose board and step that would creak under the pressure of his weight. 

Then, after seeming to have climbed a mountain simply to get upstairs, he slowly opened the door to your room, his hands clenching the doorknob to the point where it'd snap in half from his vice grip.

Alastor took steady, silent steps over to your bedframe, standing over your soundly sleeping form with a lovesick simper.

Since when had he grown so infatuated with little ol' you? Was it when you ran up to him with stars in your eyes and that beautiful, kissable smile plastered on your face after you listened to his podcast from start to finish? When you raved about how amazing it was, how captivating he sounded?  

Moonlight was cast over your form, painting a pale, sleek canvas of stardust over your skin as Alastor drank in the sight with trembling fervor. 

Leaning over, he took a hand and carefully twirled a lock of your hair around a slender finger as he stared down at you adoringly.

"Darling... what are you doing to me~?"

As Alastor bent down to nuzzle your loose hair, your scent hit him almost instantly, and he groaned softly as the room became so hot, so unbearably tight as he became ever aware of the throbbing bulge tightened against the confines of his trousers. 

With a heavy, forlorn heart, and an aching erection he'd soon have to tend to, he pulled away from your slumbering form, and brushed a stray lock out of your face.

A warmth crept up to his cheeks as you leaned towards his familiar touch, smiling softly at the mere touch of contact as you mumbled incoherently in your sleep.

"Mmmph... Alastor..."

With a tender, close-lipped simper, Alastor placed a chaste, tender peck to your forehead.

"Sweet dreams, my Doe~."

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: So, I lowkey lied, saying it was gonna be a shorter chapter...

AND THIS ONE ENDED UP BEING EVEN LONGER LMAO 💀💀

I'm sorry, making these longer ones are so much fun, and I can't for the life of me shorten any paragraph or story I'm working on. Even the end notes are an essay long lmao.

Anyway, thanks for reading, as always (～￣▽￣)～

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 4

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: I am SO GLAD that I got this out sooner- istg this was going to be SO MUCH LONGER but after extensive writing and editing, I finally found a flow that I vibe with, and I'm really excited for you all to read this one.

Happy reading :)

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒,𝟏𝟕𝟖 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖 | 𝑶𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒂 𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏

. . .

The weeks following your rendezvous at the diner passed by in a flurry, leaving you in a delighted tizzy as you and Alastor grew ever closer to one another. You couldn’t even count on both hands how many times he had spontaneously swept you off of your feet and pulled you into whatever shenanigans the cheeky radio star had in store. 

It was exhausting, but being with him was exhilarating all the same. 

And you could already tell you were in for quite the afternoon as he jaunted out of the recording booth, enthusiasm rolling off of him in waves. 

“Well, hello to you too, Al’,” you smiled and took off your headphones as Alastor straightened his bowtie with a haughty smirk, and you rolled your eyes. That man was ever the cocky one whenever you paid him a visit to his recording booth, as you never failed to shower him with compliments and applause at his performance. 

And seeing your awestruck face as you leaned towards the glass always made him more inclined to put on a show, just for you. 

“You were amazing out there, as always, of course,” Alastor chuckled and waved a hand dramatically in the air as if you’d said something completely preposterous. Praising Alastor was practically treason for you; the man simply could not take a compliment. 

“Oh, how you flatter me! I’m just doing my job, darling,” even oblivious little you could see that he was preening with pride, though your captivated stare trained on none other than him was all the praise Alastor would ever need. 

“That was great, Al’! One of your best performances, if I do say so, myself!” Your supervisor beamed with his hands on his hips, clearly as excited as Alastor, though for entirely different reasons. 

The radio host was still reeling with joy from the fiery sensation of your bewitched gaze adoringly trained on him, tracing his soft, handsome features with yearning eyes. 

He stole every glance at you throughout the broadcast that he could subtly manage; how your lips parted softly whenever Alastor spoke so boldly with his hands, how animated he seemed in the recording booth.

He noticed your quiet, melodic laughter that he practically breathed, the smile that he one dreamed of kissing, laying his lips against your warmth like he had captured sunlight itself between his teeth- 

“I think you should be here during recordings more often,” the young, spiffing producer muttered as he leaned over to you, leaving you in bashful laughter. Alastor narrowed his eyes slightly at the proximity, and he held no hesitation to step between you two and snake an arm around your shoulder. 

“Well, my dear, I believe this week’s recent success calls for a celebration! Hugo, I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short. I’ve planned an afternoon for me and the lady, here,” his usual smile returned, and you could feel Alastor relax as his hand fell down your forearm, grasping it with a firm yet comfortable grip. 

Hugo raised a knowing eyebrow, his eyes switching between you two as he shrugged his shoulders. “I see how it is. Givin’ ol’ Hugo the boot, huh?” He opened the door for Alastor, taking a slight bow as the radio host guided you outside one of the studio’s many broadcasting rooms. 

“I get it. I’ll stay out of your way, Al’. Just treat her right, ya’ hear?” Hugo nudged Alastor’s arm, and you could feel your friend stiffen as his hand clenched your arm tighter than before, though he laughed the discomfort off with an even wider grin. But a small glimpse of his gums told you all you needed to know. 

“Oh, no, no, no! We’re nothing like that!” You shook your head vigorously as you subtly put yourself between him and your supervisor. “He’s just so good to me, you know? Such a good friend to have, especially with that slasher running around,” you shuddered for emphasis. 

Hugo raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, really? Heh, could’ve fooled me.” Striking teal eyes flickered to said radio host, whose smile had stiffened significantly to the point of looking almost painful. You shot down the very idea that you two could ever be in a relationship, though he did appreciate your interception from the unwanted physical contact. 

But did you truly resent the idea of being with him that much? 

“He’s just so kind, and he cooks like a real professional, too!” You practically sang Alastor’s praises as Hugo strode beside you two with his arms crossed while you walked through the studio, attempting a hasty getaway out the door and whisked away to be with each other in peace. 

“That so?” Hugo was gauging Alastor’s every reaction to your words, clearly not buying the fact that you two weren’t together, or at the very least, not interested in one another. 

An unrequited love, perhaps? But this broad’d off her rocker not to fall for a guy like him. 

You nodded vigorously at your supervisor as you walked with Alastor toward the exit. “A real sweet talker, too. Y’know, Al’, you could teach Hugo here a thing or two,” when your hand wrapped around his and squeezed, and all the built-up tension was suddenly released from his form. 

Alastor’s smile softened into something a bit more genuine as he looked down at you. 

“Aren’t you just darling? Almost makes me want to spoil my little surprise for you,” he tapped your nose with a wide grin, reveling in how you blinked in surprise before blushing and turning your head away. 

“Oh, you’ll be the one getting a surprise if you don’t stop with your nonsense...” You grumbled before waving to Hugo on your way out of the studio. “Have a good day, Hugo!”  

Once you crossed the threshold, the strawberry-blonde waved you off with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow as Alastor glanced back at him. He could already see the gears turning in the young producer’s head.  

Well, God save him if he got any ideas and started meddling where he wasn’t supposed to, like a certain acquaintance of his... 

Once you arrived in the parking lot, you pulled away from Alastor’s side so that you could enter the passenger seat of his car. The winter chill that had settled in the seats left you shivering, and you turned over to Alastor with a shudder and a wobbly smile. 

“Tough weather, huh? God, what I’d give for a hot chocolate...” 

What kind of man could he call himself if he left his darling trembling like a leaf in the wind, left to the unforgiving elements? 

Without any kind of hesitation, Alastor slipped off his jacket and lent it to you, despite your insistent protests. He had considered you before himself too much, and you really weren’t that cold, the car would heat up soon, and- 

“Take it, my dear. I can’t have you freezing before you meet my dear friend, after all,” Alastor carefully leaned over, his glasses slipping towards the edge of his pointed nose as he laid the jacket upon you. 

His carnivorous, half-lidded gaze devoured an eyeful of you as he pretended to be meticulously positioning the jacket on you, his fingers ghosting each curve of your waist, the give of your belly, tracing along the chub of your hips, your love handles. The lustful thoughts that seeped in with Alastor’s touch nearly broke his resolve to restrain himself, as his yearning gaze lingered around your womb. 

Alastor quickly sat back into his seat and buckled his own seatbelt before inserting his car keys into the hole, gripping them with whitening knuckles. 

“Thanks for the jacket. I was freezing over here,” you sighed and shivered in your seat. 

“Don’t mention it, darling,” the words smoothly fell off of his lips, as if he wasn’t mentally bashing himself for touching you like that, though each advance he held himself back from went unnoticed by you as you relaxed into the leather-clad car seat. 

The aroma of bittersweet pine and cinnamon overwhelmed your senses, and Alastor’s scent made you relax considerably as you snuggled into the jacket. 

You had been running around, taking orders and checking things off your task list all morning, only looking forward to Alastor’s broadcast the most that day. His soothing voice nearly lulled you to sleep, but you forced yourself awake, out of respect. 

The last tender words he spoke to you as you slept the car ride away, snoozing peacefully even as it came to a full stop in front of Alastor’s destination. 

You looked so peaceful, so heart-wrenchingly vulnerable tucked into his jacket, away from the prying eyes of the world and within his arms. 

How he wished your paths had crossed before everything that had happened, before Alastor’s infamously heinous deeds as the New Orleans Slasher. 

And how he wished his mother could’ve met you. 

Alastor admired your dozing form for a few more minutes, before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot and driving away into the bleak gray mist that had fallen over the city. 

. . . 

“We’re here, darling.” Like a switch, his voice instantly pulled you from your nap, and you groaned and stretched with a yawn. 

“Come along now. You don't want me to be late for my meeting, do you?” Alastor’s voice, normally at the highest volume possible, had fallen into a quiet, tender whisper as he gently knocked on the window, rousing you awake. 

“Oh, Alastor,” you mumbled sleepily, “Are we here already?” You rubbed your drooping eyes as he chuckled and slowly pulled you out of the vehicle. 

“Why, yes, we are darling. And I want you to be fully awake for when you meet my friend, now, so chop-chop!” He carefully situated his jacket onto your shoulders, and you both plundered through the snowy streets towards the sidewalks, where various shops and stores sat snug and warm and sheltering their inhabitants from the biting cold that nipped at your nose and pinched your cheeks with frostbite. 

Alastor steadied you upon the ice with careful hands snaked around your waist, though all it did was make you nearly slip from the surprise contact. He was getting particularly touchy, lately. Not that you were complaining. 

And who were you to complain of the fine, slender fingers, twisting and resting upon you, sharing their warmth and affection, when you clearly craved Alastor’s touch so? When your yearning gazes became more and more frequent with each passing day. 

You shook your head of such impish thoughts as you and Alastor strode closer to the row of quaint stores and shops.

“Ah, yes. This is the place,” you glanced from the nearly identical red brick buildings to the particular one that Alastor had stopped at.

A delicate, thin line of cursive was masterfully inscribed upon a large hanging sign, reading, “𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮'𝓼 𝓑𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓮,” in a muted cerise pink. 

Your eyes scanned the fine chiffon-paned windows with wide eyes. Intricate designs lined with frills and lace stood proudly behind the glass, looking to be of Victorian descent, a more dignified, esteemed time of elegance. 

The high frilled collars and waist-choking corsets made you inwardly cringe as you and Alastor walked up the steps, and your uncertainty quickly faded when you stepped inside the boutique.  

It looked like a classical, cozy little parlor ripped straight out of a storybook, with a large grandfather clock in the corner and a row of bookshelves standing grandly beside a luxurious sofa chair, covered in dust and peeling slightly in some places, hinting at the age of the relic. 

The small ding of a bell rang once the door opened, and it was soon accompanied by a pair of quick footsteps heading down the hallway as a woman called out from behind the hardwood archway that seemed inappropriate for a clothing store. At least, that was what you had assumed it to be in the first place. 

“I’ll be right there! Don’t you move an inch, now!” The voice carried a welcoming lilt, like an old friend that you had gotten into trouble with more than several times in primary school. 

You peeked out from the small waiting area you had stepped into and were blessed with the sight of rows and rows of opulent, elegant dresses flooded the store that you were sure would have your wallet weeping should you dare to try paying for any of them. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting like that, I was just busy with another customer. Now, what can I do for you?”

You blinked in surprise, entirely not expecting the sight of the stately lady before you. Her face was kind, perhaps a bit playful, despite her imposing stature and air of sophisticated elegance she carried. 

She was the spitting image of each design that she precariously crafted, like a well-knowing yet mischievous auntie that you could sit down and chat over a cup of tea with for hours. 

“Uh, well,” you looked to Alastor, but he simply smiled down at you, being of absolutely no help whatsoever. “Well, he said that we were just here to meet a friend, so you should ask him,” narrowing your eyes at the cheeky radio host, who was probably getting a kick out of your discomfort, you pointed up at Alastor. 

The owner – presumably Rosie – blinked, her already ghost-like complexion somehow turning even paler as she laid eyes on Alastor, who stood behind you with a smile full of teeth. 

“Oh, Alastor! Is that really you?” You reeled back in surprise as Rosie took him by the shoulders and spun around a few times with a wide, somehow shark-like beam. 

“Oh, it has been ages since I’ve seen you that I nearly didn’t recognize you! Just where have you been!?” Rosie gushed over him as she placed a hand to her heart, flashing a smile full of teeth to the radio host.  

You looked between them with a bewildered expression. You thought Alastor only allowed you to touch him like that, and so abruptly, too... 

“Ah, well, I’m glad that my presence was missed, my dear Rosie,” you raised an eyebrow. My dear? “After all, your fittings are some of the best in New Orleans!” 

“Aw, ever the flatterer, aren’t you?”

The pair seemed to completely ignore you in the moment, lost in their own reunion until Rosie placed her hands on her hips with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous glint in her pitch-black gaze.  

“And it seems like this pretty little flower’s kept you from my parlor for quite some time! Oh, Al', you just keep bringing so many beautiful young women to my doorstep!” 

Now that last part really made you take pause. There were other women before you? You slightly deflated at that thought, though you didn’t know what you expected from someone with Alastor’s reputation and overall appeal.  

But the burn in your heart and the slight sting in your eyes betrayed your hurt at the fact that you weren’t anything special to the radio host you had become so taken with.  

“But this one might just be the most delectable of all!” Before you could question her strange choice of words, Rosie urgently began pushing you towards the back of the store, past racks of gorgeous dresses and in front of the front counter. 

She slipped behind the hardwood desk covered in shiny knickknacks, assorted jewelry – many in the shape of small hearts for the romantic season – and even little chocolate candies covered in shiny, bright pink and red wrapping. 

Alastor followed closely behind you two with his arms behind his back. 

“How about some candy? It is that time of year, after all! All that romance in the air, the taste of young love on every girl’s tongue! A pretty thing like you must’ve caught the eye of someone special.” She grinned widely down at you, and you happily reached for a piece. “Sure, I'll take one.” 

“And who might that be for, my dear?” You jumped and glanced up at Alastor, whose eyes watched your face carefully. His tone bit at the air with a malice you hadn’t heard since the incident at the diner. Rosie leaned against the counter, clearly drinking up every bit of tension.  

“That’s none of your business, now, is it?” Taking a chocolate heart, you thanked Rosie with a grateful smile, completely ignoring how Alastor’s eye twitched and he clung closer to your side. His smile stretched wider across his face, the tips of his lips twitching slightly as you gave him a brief side-glance. 

Such a strange man... 

“So, are you going to introduce us?” Rosie waved to you with a hand on her hip. 

“Why, how rude of me!” Alastor pulled you even closer to himself with a hand slung around your shoulder. “This here is my lovely little assistant, and she’s been staying with me for the past couple of weeks! I’ll tell you, she’s quite the helper around the studio! One could only dream to find someone as useful!” Alastor’s scent overwhelmed you as he hugged you close, and when you awkwardly tried to pull away from Alastor’s grasp, he gripped you tighter to himself. 

Useful? Was that all you were to him? 

"Assistant? I don't remember-" A prompt squeeze of your shoulder from Alastor kept you quiet, and you glared up at him.

“Oh, my! Sounds like you’re quite popular!” It was then that you noticed the slight Boston accent that laced Rosie’s words.  

“You know what? The ladies that join here for afternoon tea would just adore you! And they’ve just arrived, too! Oh, Alastor, won’t you let the Doll say hi?” Rosie turned to him with a pleading expression, though Alastor knew that the store owner never waited for permission to do just about anything. 

Normally, he’d say yes, but you weren’t fresh meat on the chopping block, nor were you a puppet for Alastor’s entertainment, not anymore at least. 

And those women would eat you alive. 

“I’m afraid not, my dear. She is not much for such fraternization," he emphasized with a hint of irritation. Rosie deflated with a pout but didn’t push upon the matter. Some of Al’s toys were off-limits, she supposed. 

Oh, well. He never was very good at sharing. 

A twinge of irritation pricked at the back of your mind. Why didn’t Alastor ask you if you wanted to meet her friends? You would’ve jumped at the chance to meet someone new, but now, with the finality Alastor's tone carried, it seemed such a thing was out of the question. 

It irked you that he thought he had any say upon your friendships outside of himself, the strange, oddly possessive man that he was. 

But what you despised even more was how easily you complied with his wishes. 

“Oh, well, all right then. Perhaps some other time,” Rosie’s smile quickly returned to her face as she straightened her shoulders, shaking off the disappointment from seconds ago. “So, what business can I help you two with?” She folded her hands upon the front desk’s surface with half-lidded eyes, taking upon an air of professionalism.

“Oh, just a private matter I’ve long awaited to tend to, nothing to concern the Doll about. Shall we speak in the parlor?” You narrowed your eyes at Alastor, before shrugging nonchalantly and promptly left his side to observe the rest of the store, turning to a corner with shiny bobbles and trinkets that had caught your eye.  

Alastor swiveled to you, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise, and Rosie chuckled at his bewilderment.  

“Don’t mind me, just minding my own business,” you turned your back on the pair completely, and Alastor had half a mind to drag you back to the front desk with a tighter grip on your middle than ever before. 

“Shall we, then?” Amusement danced in the store owner’s pitch-black eyes as Alastor stiffly nodded with a twitching smile.

The room in which the pair held their usual meetings in was quite similar to the waiting room in which you and Alastor had arrived in, though this one was much more decorated and clearly tailored to Rosie’s personal style, as it was furnished with antiques and furniture most likely preserved from the Victorian era of England. 

A small sofa chair sat across from a matching striped loveseat, the fabric of both furnishings colored a cerise pink and decorated with small, dainty intricacies carved into the dark wood of the legs. Bookshelves lined nearly every wall save for the entrance and a small window hanging above a writing desk.  

Lilting classical music poured from the well-kept gramophone situated beside a bookshelf, just behind the loveseat. 

Alastor made himself comfortable on the sofa chair across from the loveseat where Rosie was seated, pouring herself a cup of tea and him a glass of whiskey from a bottle beside the tea set. 

“So, what troubling matters have graced me with your visit, Alastor?” She raised the cup to her maroon-tinted lips and took a small sip, taking small note of how his left hand rose to his bowtie to straighten it, and his fingers tapped frantically against the arm of the chair.

“I needed to ask you for some advice,” he fiddled with his collar for a moment more, his smile widening. This was going to be an awkward conversation, and Rosie surely wouldn’t make it any easier for him, but this certainly wasn’t the lowest level he would stoop to in order to get what he wanted. 

Besides, Alastor was well aware that Rosie was something of an expert within the aspect of the heart. If she was the one to go to, he’d make the sacrifice of a slight blow to his pride from the teasing. 

“It is no secret that your areas of expertise are outside of my specialties,” he continued, and almost immediately, Rosie perked up with a wide grin, though the confusion that followed sprouted many questions. Why in the world would someone like him want advice on something like that? 

“Oh, you know I pride myself upon my specialty upon the matters of the heart!” She fluttered her sharp-nailed fingers at him, intrigue piqued and her inner curiosity buzzing. Could it be...? 

“I must say, I’m surprised you’ve taken an interest in such matters. Any particular reason for this sudden change of heart?” Rosie leaned against the chair, waiting for him to answer with a soft smirk. Alastor’s eyebrow twitched. She was going to make him say it. 

“Well, there happens to be an investment of mine that has caught more than my eye, recently.” His attempts to be vague fell completely flat when Rosie caught his eyes glancing towards the door behind him. 

“And does that ‘investment’ just so happen to be standing outside the door?”

“Ah, ever unrelenting with your teasing, I see,” his voice bit with sarcasm, and he put to use the glass of whiskey that Rosie had provided him with, taking a drink and composing himself.

“Oh, come on, Al’. I’ve seen that look before." Rosie sighed dramatically, looking him up and down with knowing eyes. "You’re in love with her. And you have no idea how to go about it.” 

A tender gaze focused upon her oldest friend as his hands tightened around the glass of whiskey. Alastor clearly wasn’t used to being prodded like this. And though normally Rosie would respect his boundaries, love called for a more... personal approach. 

“I’ll help you, but I want to be sure,” her soft, motherly demeanor all but evaporated as she narrowed her eyes at him, sharp, dark pupils analyzing every movement like a shark circling blood. 

But he was never one to squirm under pressure. 

“You’re sure that you love her?”  

“With everything that I am.”  

“You’d cross every line for her?” 

“There is no line I haven’t already crossed. I’d plunge the depths of Hell to be by her side.” 

“No matter the cost, you’ll never watch her fall for another?” 

“I’d sooner sell my own soul and rip out the heart of those who dare to try.”  

The flame in his eyes challenged her overprotective glare, and Rosie relaxed with a deep inhale, relenting her gaze and letting her smile return to her pale features.  

“Alright, I’ll help you. But don’t you break that poor girl’s heart, or you’ll never hear the end of it from me.” Alastor relaxed back into the sofa chair. Perhaps this ‘love’ business wouldn’t be so difficult, after all. 

Rosie promptly set her teacup down upon the coffee table and leaned forward to spill every secret in her book as if it were one of their regular gossiping sessions, laughing and trading pleasantries over tea.

And she'd make sure that you would be swooning at Alastor's feet when she was done with him.

“Now, here’s the gist of what to do...” 

She was something of a miracle worker, after all.

. . . 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: WELCOME TO THE END! YES, YOU DID IT!!

I'm so sorry to dump this whole fic onto ya'll- When I tell you that I audibly gasped when I saw the word count in my drafts-

Like this thing was 4,800 WORDS. I AM NOT ABOUT TO DO THAT TO YA'LL.

Anyways, it's always fun to write for this fic, but this one was so fun to do!! Istg Rosie would be the best wingman ever. She would solve The Summer I Turned Pretty in two episodes.

Thank you so much for reading! I'll see you next time with our favorite demented, yandere TV Man!!

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer, @prosciuttosblog @frog-fans-unite

➺ 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!

WE NEED MORE YANDERE ALASTOR!! I REPEAT!! WE NEED MORE OF IT IN THIS DEPRAVED COMMUNITY!! 🗣️🗣️

Salutations everyone, and welcome to this special broadcast of my yandere Hazbin Hotel fic, A Violent Wendigo’s Love!

This past Sunday, I had announced that if the first part had reached 1,000 notes I would share a portion from the second part before its scheduled drop on March 1st at 6PM. Within three days, this number was surpassed and currently sits at 1,038 notes.

I cannot thank my readers enough for their kindness and support in helping achieve this milestone. I sincerely hope you will all enjoy it~! If you would like to read the first part before being spoiled, I will leave a link to the fic here.

So with that being said, let’s get this show on the road~!

Shadows were handy little helpers to have, Alastor notes. Not only could they provide protection to the staff when he had other matters to attend to in the Pentagram but they were excellent spies. To be his ears and gather all of the delicious secrets he could uncover from enemies that were actually some semblance of a threat to his plans, or just because he was bored and liked to keep tabs on the latest bits of gossip. He loved to share this information with Rosie over tea-time when the subject of their discussions was not revolved around the ornery old bitch, Susan.

Although they have proven themselves to be useful time and time again, these little helpers were also sentient and created their own discord, much to the frustration of their creator. As much as you can say you’ve been keeping a distance from Alastor, he unfortunately can’t say the same. His shadows as of late have found themselves almost constantly attached to you. Through darkened hallways to under your leaves at the greenhouse, they were always at your side. Ready to step in and assist you in any way they can, even if he won’t lift a finger.

IT'S HAPPENINGNGJGJTKJRTNMTMT

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love Part Two

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, OOC, spoilers for the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial of his feelings, possible angst.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Part One

Salutations everyone, good to be back on the air~! :)

I understand it’s been a while since I wrote anything, but due to how busy I’ve gotten in real life, updates will be a bit slower until perhaps the summer. Nonetheless, I am committed to writing the best Hazbin Hotel fics for the community so that everyone can enjoy them to their heart’s content!

Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing desk for collaborating with me on this chapter and helping me bring these fantastic characters to life on the page, and @vikkirosko for being an awesome beta reader alongside @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

The reconstruction of the hotel included the kitchen being entirely remodeled. 

Gone were the cabinet doors that hung from its creaky hinges, the marble floors that never shined bright no matter how many times Niffty scrubbed them,  the mice’s squeaking and an ice box that couldn’t fit all of the foodstuff to feed several people. Dark matte cabinets held the dining ware and bowls, stacked up in neat little rows and protected by glass doors on either side of a large wrought iron stove top and the range hood. The cedar countertops glowed under the lights, stretching from the island in the middle of the room to the small dining room table stationed on the right side. Copper pots and pans were suspended in the air above the island, so whenever it was time to start cooking, Angel or Lucifer would have to pull out the ones needed and put them away after the meal. The icebox was now bigger, stainless steel with a bottom drawer to place frozen items in. 

Overall, it was a massive improvement from the previous one with additional space and a little footstool for Niffty to make the midday meals. Alastor…he was usually in charge of the evening ones, though the others have recently started to contribute to making their own dishes. The successes of those evenings varied, though they all tasted delicious to you. 

 Niffty had all but pushed you into a chair at the dining table as soon as you entered the kitchen with Husk. You watched her tiny frame skitter across the marble floor, plating stacked sandwiches held together with toothpicks stabbed through the middle and potato salad and two other side dishes before it appeared in front of you. She must have prepared some tea for you as well, seeing an ivory teapot and a cup already filled to the brim, steam rising and emitting a fragrant aroma that tickled your nose. 

You thanked her graciously for the meal, even though you were quite sure that you were not going to be able to finish it all before you had to leave for Alastor’s radio station. Twenty minutes was not what Charlie would qualify as a proper lunch break. 

The tiny housekeeper  repeated the same ritual with Husk though she directly handed his plate to him before she gave you an annoyed look that clearly said, finish your meal, all of it, and got distracted with the sight of a roach and began to chase it down with her needle. Husk merely shook his head and sat down next to you on the right side of the table. He picked at his food, clearly not in the mood to eat because his mind was on something else. However, you did not pry. Vaggie had spoken to you about respecting people’s privacy in your first week of arriving at the hotel; just because someone doesn’t seem happy, it didn’t mean you had a right to address it. Talking about it might help, and sometimes it doesn’t. If anything…just let the sleeping dogs lie. 

You eyed the clock. Ten minutes left, and you were only halfway through the meal. You ate the sandwiches, and only had a spoonful of the potato salad. You were about to take another bite from a different side dish when Husk spoke up, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth. 

“I saw what happened in the greenhouse.”

You blinked. Husk….he had seen the confrontation between you and Alastor? You carefully lowered the spoon down the plate, tapping against the porcelain. “There’s nothing to worry about, Husk.” You replied calmly, your attention entirely focused on the meal in front of you. “He will not harm me. He simply wants to talk about my performance on the job.”

“That’s bullshit.” Husk hissed. “We both know it ain’t just ‘cause he’s the facility manager of this place, or that you’re slackin’ off,  it’s ‘cause he hates it when people question his authority!” He slammed a fist against the table, causing the silverware and glassware to wobble momentarily before right themselves again. “[First Name], I saw. I know what he did, and you really have no idea who you’re gonna be alone with in what, five minutes?”

“Seven. And I know who Alastor is. He is a serial killer, a cannibal, and an overlord who broadcasts his carnage on the radio.” you said, raising the tea cup to your mouth as you took a languid sip,  placing it back down the saucer a moment later with a clink. You looked at him. “He is also in a weakened physical state. He will not admit that he has not fully recovered from the war.”

“I swear to God, do not make me go to the princess and Vaggie about this, because I fucking will -”

“Telling them what he did will not change his tactics. He will simply find another way to intimidate me.” You cut off. “You know him better than anyone else, Husk. He is clever, manipulative, and will do anything to get what he wants.”

Husk shot a baffled look at you, eyebrows raised and yellow irises narrowed slightly. “You really don’t see how he looks at you, do you?”

You blinked. “As an enemy? Yes.” Hostility, anger, shock, humiliation. You had seen those expressions many times on that battlefield when you charged across No Man’s Land with the Major’s battalion, cutting through the enemy lines with anything in reach and at your disposal. A weapon of war, a loyal dog to the Major. You watched Husk’s face fall into disbelief, then aggravation before he slapped a paw across his face. You tilted your head to the side. What was wrong? Why was he upset? Is it something you had said? You watched the bartender stand up from the table, walk towards the lower cabinets, crouching down and pulling out a hidden bottle of whiskey. He uncorked it, and took a swing from it before turning back towards you, frowning.

“Ya might have been a soldier, ya might have things that would turn shit white and ya not be scared of Alastor…but you should be. He’s been gone for seven years, and no one knows why, but I can say with certainty that he’s much stronger than before. If you’re gonna talk to him, just….just don’t mention….he’s no different than I am, all right?” That was all he said before almost bolting towards the door, leaving you alone in the kitchen. 

No different than what Husk is. You thought, picking up both of the half-eaten plates from the table, throwing the reminder in the trash, washing and rinsing them off under the tap before setting them down in the dish rack. What does that mean? Alastor does not drink nor does he gamble. Husk is under his commanding unit, a soldier. Your brow furrowed. Did Husk….knows something about Alastor that he doesn’t want others to know? How did Alastor rise to power so quickly and overthrow the overlords who had been dominant in Hell for centuries? 

You would have to think about this possibility later, because when you looked at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, you realized you were already late for your meeting with Alastor. 

Shadows were handy little helpers to have, Alastor notes. Not only could they provide protection to the staff when he had other matters to attend to in the Pentagram but they were excellent spies. To be his ears and gather all of the delicious secrets he could uncover from enemies that were actually some semblance of a threat to his plans, or just because he was bored and liked to keep tabs on the latest bits of gossip. He loved to share this information with Rosie over tea-time when the subject of their discussions was not revolved around the ornery old bitch, Susan.

Although they have proven themselves to be useful time and time again, these little helpers were also sentient and created their own discord, much to the frustration of their creator. As much as you can say you’ve been keeping a distance from Alastor, he unfortunately can’t say the same. His shadows as of late have found themselves almost constantly attached to you. Through darkened hallways to under your leaves at the greenhouse, they were always at your side. Ready to step in and assist you in any way they can, even if he won’t lift a finger. 

Regardless of how annoyed he has been with them recently,  they had repeated word for word of your conversation with Husk. They know you are late but have said that you are walking towards him and not from way to him, whispering how you were turning right at the end of the corridor and about to come across the staircase leading up to the radio station. They adored you, much to his annoyance. It had already been difficult to even comprehend the idea that he had feelings for you, and his shadows, unfortunately, reflected the darker parts of him that he wished to be locked up for all eternity. The weaknesses that were a threat to his own goals. 

He could not act like an altruist or a lovesick fool. He hungered for power. He craved freedom. Nothing should stop him from carrying out what he wants. If he wrangled the truth out of you, to know that you despised him and did not care about him in any capacity….he will be satisfied. 

Will he though? 

His train of thought was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. Putting on his best smile and straightening out his bowtie, Alastor walked across the room and opened it. He looked down, and saw you staring at him. Your appearance wasn’t as ruffled as he had suspected it to be from being late for an appointment, just a few [Hair Color] strands loose from the hairstyle you wear every day ... .but he supposed he can let it slide this time. He’d rather not hear Niffty complain to him about how you aren’t eating your meals.

“Well, well, there you are~! And here I was wondering if you had forgotten! Come, come, take a seat!” He said, gesturing to the couch sitting adjacent to the soundboard where he sat. He did not even want to look at you, not at this moment. He could feel the shadows purring in delight under his feet, no doubt staring at you with such adoration that it made him gag. He reigned them with a pulse of his power just before a slippery fellow tried to crawl towards the couch and perch over your shoulder. 

He took a seat, and so did you after smoothing out the skirts of your dress. You looked at him straight in the eye, spine straight and gloved hands folded neatly in your lap. 

“So, you are aware as to why you are here, yes~?”

“...I am.”

“And why is that?” He pressed.

“Because I questioned your authority. You tried to frighten me, and you had failed.” You replied. “In my defense, you were in no position to exert yourself when you are still possessing an injury that you will not speak about to the others. I have no intention of saying that to anyone here. I only ask that you do not harm Charlie or the others here in the hotel, or I will keep the promise I made to you less than an hour ago. You will be killed by my hand or I will die trying. People keep secrets because it is necessary for their survival, and the others around them. How can I be sure….that you will not raise your hand and strike us down as soon as your wings are unclipped?”

Alastor’s eyes widened slightly as a wave of high-pitched radio static left his teeth and bounced off the walls before he quickly recollected himself. Goodness, always the blunt one, weren’t you? Inhaling sharply through his nostrils, he made sure his grin stretched all the way to his ears, never showing you what is really going through his mind. Annoyance. Frustration. Adoration. Amusement. 

“Well, those words are the very reason why you are here, my dear.” He stood up from his chair, slowly walking around the soundboard, running a finger across the polished wood. His eyes were fixed on yours and you did not look away. Good. Keep your focus on him and nothing else. 

“By meddling in my affairs, even if it was unintentional on your part, is putting the rest of the hotel in danger. I cannot be compromised under any circumstances, lest I anger the one whom I have an agreement with.”

“The one who is responsible for your rise in power?” He blinked, stopping in his steps for a moment.  Ah. You caught on without him having to spell out to you. Unless dear old Husk had said something to you? No. The shadows have told him that he merely mentioned the seven years that the Radio Demon was gone, nothing beyond what everyone else already knew.  

He nodded, swiveling on his feet and because he felt like it, a jaunty little spin before he sat on the coffee table,  right in front of you and crossing his legs with such elegance that it would make a French girl jealous. 

“Indeed. And trust me when I say they are much more powerful than Charlie’s dear father. That is to say, not even Lucifer can protect you or anyone else from what is about to or could happen should I be compromised. And I know how much you care about the staff here, even sweet little Niffty. Which is why…I want to make a deal.” He held out his hand towards you. “Keep what has happened at the radio station and anything else beyond these four walls to yourself. Never share what you know, not even to Charlie. In exchange for your silence, I will not harm anyone here in the hotel unless we know for certain that they are a threat. Well?” He tilted his head to the side. “Do we have a deal?”

You stared at his hand, then raised your own to your lips, carefully tugging off the glove with your teeth until it fell into your lap. The adamantine skeletal fingers curled around his own, solidifying the deal between the two of you. Alastor felt a burst of power course through him, felt the stitches on his mouth and eyes tugging, the walls turning emerald and the shadows danced around them in celebration. Then the magic subsided, yet the warmth, the burning sensations from your prosthetics seeping through the leather gloves did not. A chirping of radio static left his mouth upon feeling his hand being squeezed to an almost painful degree. When he looked at you, he saw emotions swirling in your eyes that he had not seen from you yet.

Anger.

Disappointment.

Resentmentment.

These were emotions he had caused. Him, the one who was holding your hand tightly because he made a simple deal for yourr silence, and not her soul. So why does he feel conflicted? He had gotten what he wanted, to push you away from him, to banish these uninvited feelings from his chest. But this deal did not give him any satisfaction. It caused him…pain. The kind of pain that he cannot explain. It was not the pain he felt when he missed an opportunity to have an excellent dinner, and not even the pain that…that Adam had given him.

For whatever reason, he could not stop himself from bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss across the knuckles even when the angelic steel instantly burned his mouth upon contact. When he realized what he had done, he pulled away as if he had been struck again by his drunken father and promptly left his office, disappearing into the darkness and subsequently from the hotel altogether.

He did not like this. He did not like these feelings. He did not like how he never had the opportunity to ask him if you cared about him, loved him…yet why did your opinion matter? Why did he want to hear you say, out of your volition, that you love him too? To a man who is supposed to feel nothing at all?!

Times like this, there was only one person who could provide light on this precarious situation without daring to judge him. The Pentagram’s most delightful, daring, and dangerous overlord of Cannibal Town. Rosie. His oldest and dearest friend. 

He supposed it had been long enough since the two of them had tea together, hasn’t it?

Alastor inhaled a shaky breath, allowing himself to materialize on the streets near the Jazz District and smiled brightly as if he wasn’t having an existential crisis, humming a merry tune under his breath that made nearby demons tremble in fear. 

Taglist: @alastor-simp @the-cat-queen-peasants @pinkgoldweebgirl @rorusena @whenitgrowsbright @aria-tempest @aconfusedwonderland @victheauthor @luthefriendlywitch @lunaramune @candyladycry @22carolina08 @ladydoe8 @lanxianschoenheit @hellbornediamonddreams @imperfectbloodmoon @francisnyx @sillypumpkins @no1sillybilly @faux-ecrivain @bones4thecats @frompeach @frenchtoastmafia @oucx @navierkalani @solandis-does-stuff @anielly-2010 @tonightwrites @mentallyunstablenoodle @bladeismine @asianfrustration13 @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @realifezompire @blumin8 @chewbrry @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @zenix108 @ang3lofdivinity @yourdoorisunlocked @nunezs-stuff @ccruzmoon

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 6

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: *Drops this and runs away* THANK ME LATER!

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒,𝟑𝟔𝟐 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ʟᴀʙᴏᴜʀ | ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴏᴍᴀ

“𝑵𝒐𝒘, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚-𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒘𝒆’𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒘… 𝒂𝒅𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔.” 

. . .

"And the budget for next month! Woof! I gotta tell ya', Doll, Alasta's been a real Godsent, ya' know what I'm sayin'?"

Hugo’s voice faded into a buzzing white noise as your thoughts drifted off yet again to your musings of the night you’d spent with a certain radio host, whose chiseled, soft features consumed your every waking thought.

Though the details were a complete blur, the sensation of Alastor’s warm embrace hugging around your frame was an unforgettable feeling that you’d be chasing for the rest of your days.

His addictive scent, laced with undertones of cinnamon and soft notes of expensive cologne had embraced you as you recalled his electrifying touch.

You couldn’t deny it any longer, you were surely holding a torch for the man, and according to Hugo, you were horrible at hiding it. 

But honestly, who could blame you for falling so deeply? The past week that you’d spent with Alastor had been beautiful, as he had surprised you more and more with courteous, almost flirtatious gestures that grew in both audacity and frequency with each passing day.

Whether it be assorted, freshly picked bouquets that he’d set upon your bedside table for whenever you woke up, or beautiful dresses and tops that looked to be hand-tailored from a certain seamstress you’d become very well-acquainted with, or chocolates and sweets that he’d whip up himself, just for you, Alastor always delivered in full. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Alastor was trying to court you. 

Really, it was like he was trying to make you melt on the spot with just how forward he was! It took everything in you not to swoon at his feet with each gift and memorable outing you shared.  

“Hey, Doll? Ya’ go deaf, or somethin’?”  

Blinking, you snapped out of your trance and wiped a subtle line of drool from your face as blush dusted your cheeks. Hugo narrowed his eyes at you with his hands on his hips as you pulled yourself back into reality.

“Sorry about that, sir. I was just thinking...” you smiled apologetically up at your supervisor, and you try not to tune him out as he starts rambling yet again. When will Alastor’s evening podcast begin, again? 

“Uh-huh. Probably thinkin’ about your lil’ boy-toy in the next room over. Speakin’ a' Al’, I forgot to tell you that he’s workin’ overtime tonight. Told me to let ya’ know,” the blonde mentioned nonchalantly, startling you out of your daydreaming trance yet again. 

“H-He’s working overtime now?” 

Hugo groaned with exasperation. “Stars, Dollface, are ya’ gettin’ amnesic on me, now? Yeah, I was just tellin’ ya’, Al’s hours extended a bit. His request,” he shrugged, unaware of how you deflated in your office chair. You were really looking forward to your evening walk home with Alastor. 

“Well, did he say why?” 

Hugo shook his head. “Nope, didn’t mention a thing. But I can walk ya’ home, if ya'd like,” he offered with a bright, innocent smile, which brought your usual guard down, despite the risks. You’d always had a soft spot for the spiffing, young producer, since you’d always seen him as a little brother despite being your superior. It didn’t help that he acted like one, too. 

And besides, Alastor would only give himself later hours if he thought about you in advance, wouldn’t he? He'd probably put Hugo up to the task of walking you home, the considerate sweetheart. 

It wasn’t like you had any other choice, so with a soft smile, you nodded. “Sure! When do you leave?” 

“Eh... Around five-thirty, on weekdays. Just thirty minutes after you leave, right?” 

With a nod and a smile, you waved Hugo off. “Sure is. Now, get back to work, you! I have scripts that need editing.” He rolled his eyes as you scolded and dismissed him and made himself busy around the radio station.

Once the brilliant, baby blue sky had slowly begun to fade into a reflective navy with nary a star yet in sight, your workday had finally ended, and you were finally free to go.

With a relieved sigh and a stretch of your knuckles, you grabbed your bearings and met Hugo by the front door as a few people had begun filing out of the station. You supposed some others were working late, as well, since some of the usual faces weren’t racing home from work like you and Alastor. 

A sudden reminder of your usual stroll buddy made you turn to Hugo hopefully. “Oh, Hugo, can I say goodbye to Alastor? I’ll be quick, I promise!” 

Hugo chuckled and shook his head with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Doll. Al’ said he'd needed to be alone for a while at the end of the workday and told me to just get ya’ home.”

He raised an eyebrow down at your disappointed frown, and he was reminded of how it seemed you two couldn’t seem to spend an hour apart, let alone an entire day. 

Throughout the day, Alastor had asked at least a dozen times if he could take a small break simply to spend time with you, but Hugo didn’t need you two love birds distracting each other, not since he caught the both of you spending your lunch break together in Alastor’s recording booth. 

You had both spent twenty minutes past your break simply to chat and nuzzle noses together like a couple of awkward teenagers under the bleachers, until Hugo found you, though he teased the daylights out of you, rather than reprimand you. He knew better than to step on the toes of Al’s girl. 

Jeez, these kids are hopeless, ain’t they? 

“C’mon, now, don’t look so glum,” Hugo tried to be comforting as he put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure that Al' misses you just as much as you miss ‘im, so don’t get ya’self down.” He smiled down at you as you perked up. 

“You think?” You peeked up at Hugo as he walked you out the door and onto the sidewalk with an arm slung over your shoulder. 

“Got ya’ interest now, don’t I?” The blonde teased with a smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows, making you groan. “So, how’s it been down in good ol’ Lover’s Lane~?” 

“I’ve already told you, Hugo, it isn’t like that!” 

“Uh-huh, and I’m a monkey’s uncle.” 

“Well, that monkey won’t have an uncle if you don’t drop this!” 

The walk home consisted of your teasing and playful back-and-forth as the sky darkened further, and the glow of a few streetlamps had been left as the only light source illuminating your path. 

Suddenly, you halted right in front of the diner you and Alastor had tried from a few weeks ago, and Hugo stopped with you.

“Uh... Ya’ sure this is the place, Doll?” He looked around for a moment, surveying the complete lack of civilization around you, just a snug little diner tucked into acres of forest, and far from the city.

You shook your head up at Hugo. “Nope, I’m just pickin' up dinner for Al' and I."

“Aw, what a Doll. Alasta' should count 'imself lucky to find a lady like you,” he ruffled your hair with a grin, and you rolled your eyes and fixed your now ridiculous-looking locks. 

“Alright, so, I’ll drop ya’ off here, but you gotta promise ya’ won’t get kidnapped, or somethin’?” You rolled your eyes up at him with a fond grin before fixing up Hugo’s hair with a flair of your own and met his playful gaze.

“I’ll be fine, Hugo. Thank you for walking me home. Now go on, get out of here," you batted at him playfully as he walked off into the night, laughter echoing off the sidewalks stretching past the lone diner. 

“Take care of ya’self, Doll, for my sake?” Hugo called back as you waved. 

“I will!"

Once he had left, you headed into the quaint restaurant, smiling at the new receptionist as you made your way down the aisle. 

“Hiya! Can I get two bowls of jambalaya? To-go, please!” 

. . . 

The soft crackle of the fire and the mellow turning of pages filled the deafening silence in the living room of Alastor’s mansion, the peaceful atmosphere heavily veiling the inner worry that conjured up a whirlwind of a headache as you tried to focus on the book in your hands.

It was a romance that you were in the middle of reading, though it was surprising to find such a rarity in Alastor’s library, since much of his selection consisted of thrillers and horror. Though this book was no different, you supposed, since it consisted of a healthy amount of gore sprinkled in between scenes.

You had re-read the same sentence at least five times, before looking over to the grandfather clock sitting snugly next to the mantel. Your hourly disappointment had flickered into irritation with each glance you took at the old thing.

The smaller hand that seemed to slowly tick by had decided to pick that evening to speed up its journey against the clock’s marble face as the hours passed, and your worry grew. 

It was now nearly midnight, and you were just about ready to start leading a torch-wielding brigade out into the forest to search for Alastor, when a knock jolted you out of your seat. 

There’s only one man who’d stray out this far at this audacious hour... 

You look past the kitchen to the front door and crept up to it as hopefulness and irritation conflicted with one another in your chest. 

You opened the door with a sigh of relief as Alastor’s frame towered over you with his familiar smile, though you didn’t miss how it twitched slightly at the tips.

You watched him with a concerned gaze as he stepped inside.

“Terribly sorry for the wait, my dear! Truly, I apologize, but I had to take care of a few things,” You wanted to slap Alastor for worrying you to the brink of re-reading the same mushy paragraph for an hour and being so dismissive about his disappearing act when he finally returned, but you were too concerned about his well-being to let your anger fully boil over. 

“Welcome home, Al’,” you hesitated for a moment, watching as he sped into the kitchen with purpose, clearly adamant on making you dinner in the middle of the night.

“Are you... Alright?” You raised an uncertain eyebrow as he started rummaging through the cabinets, either unresponsive or flat-out ignoring you as you stood awkwardly in the doorway. 

With a hesitant step forward and a reluctant sigh, you placed your hand on Alastor’s shoulder and tried not to flinch away as he whirls toward you with wild eyes.

“Hm? Is there something that you need, my dear?” Alastor inwardly cringed at how relentlessly cheerful he sounded, like an overworked mascot at a run-down theme park. 

You give the man a once-over, glaring at him, unimpressed as you noted how disheveled he looked. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

You pinched your nose bridge with an exhausted sigh. He really didn’t want to be easy about this, did he? Alright, then. Time to be the bad cop.

“First, you come back home at an ungodly hour, looking like you’ve taken a tumble with a rabid racoon and lost,” Alastor rolled his eyes at that comment, “Second, you’re running around the kitchen the way you do whenever something’s bothered you. And you know that you can tell me if something’s bothering you,” your eyes soften towards him as you reach up and unclip his bow, and Alastor’s eyes follow your delicate, soft hands as you place it on the counter and smooth out his the front of his rumpled dress shirt. 

“Look... I don’t know what’s going on, or what’s bothering you, or why the hell you came back so late, but...” your concerned gaze trailed up his form, and Alastor nearly shrunk like a raisin under your scrutinization. 

“But you can tell me anything. You know that, right?” 

“Anything?” Alastor pressed, his foolish heart answering the call for him as your voice grew hopeful, begging him to open up to you. 

“Yes, anything. I mean it, Alastor.” 

A silent moment fell between the both of you, one in which you felt as if all the tension in the world had suddenly been sucked into the kitchen, tightening the air as you held your breath and waited for Alastor to say the word, to tell you whatever was going on.  

No matter how gruesome his actions, no matter the cost, you’d stay by his side. You’d bury the body and wipe the fingerprints; you'd dispose of the witnesses and give the police station false tips. Anything to keep Alastor safe. Anything to keep him by your side.

And Lord knows that you’d let the man get away with murder... 

You can only sigh dejectedly as he gives his answer with apologetic eyes. “I’m afraid not, my dear. Besides,” he rubbed your shoulders soothingly. “I can get along just fine, don’t you worry your pretty little head over me.” 

Alastor, goddamn him, had flashed the most heart-warming, knee-buckling smile down at you, genuine and unwavering, and nearly all of your resolve evaporated in an instant. How funny, how you both had such an effect on one another without the other noticing.

Alastor nearly cracked under your gentle touch, and that word, that ‘anything’ had begged him to prod you. Test the limits of your loyalty, of your attraction to him. 

And Alastor was sure he wouldn't be disappointed.

But Alastor’s head, the instincts of a predator, the mind of a realist, had grounded him down to earth. The radio host knew better than anyone not to mix business with pleasure, and that involving you would risk your finding out about his line of work, and his... tendencies. 

You sighed, your grip tightening on the counter before stepping back. Alastor never pried into your life, and it wasn’t your business to force him into telling you anything. “Alright... If you say so. But I’m always here, Alastor.”

A hesitant hand carefully inches towards his, and a soft gasp of surprise leaves your lips as Alastor’s hand comes to encompass yours with a squeeze. 

“I know, my dear. And aren’t you just a sweetheart for looking out for me~?” You couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed with him as he tucked a hair behind your ear and fluffed up your hair, before stepping away towards the stove. 

“Now, if you’ll allow me, I’m afraid that dinner is quite overdue.” 

“About that, I’ve already gotten a little somethin’ for the both of us, so you don’t need to worry,” Alastor raised an eyebrow, a strong wave of déjà vu hitting him as you pushed him out of the kitchen, before pulling out the two bowls of jambalaya you'd gotten from the diner.

You’d warmed it up quite nicely, and though the meal was delicious, it couldn’t have even compared to the wonderful dish you’d made Alastor your first night sleeping at the manor, as he’d remarked several times during dinner, reveling in your flustered blush at the endless stream of praise. 

After you’d both had your fill, and Alastor finished washing the dishes, you both started to head up to bed, and you tugged on his sleeve with a serious look. 

“Please, please try to get a good night’s rest, Alastor,” he chuckled softly down at you, as if your concern was completely unbased, but you didn't laugh, clearly adamant about him taking better care of himself. 

What a good little wife you’d make, taking care of him, cleaning up the house for his arrival, editing his scripts and making him dinner, though Alastor hated the thought of you having to lift a single finger in his stead. 

Alastor filed those thoughts away for later as he smiled gently and cupped your cheek with his hand as he bent down to your level, his pointed nose nearly brushing against yours. “I promise, darling. I won’t worry you anymore,” before a scarlet blush could fully race across your cheeks, Alastor abruptly stood and patted your head with a grin. “Now, off to bed with you. I’d feel simply terrible if you lost sleep over me.” 

Huffing in disbelief, you ignored the burn flaring against your cheeks as you turned on your heel with your nose in the air. “You’re lucky I care for you, so much...”

You grumbled all the way back to your room, though you cast another weary glance at Alastor as he retired for the night into his own bedroom.

His prominent slump in the way he walked, the slight limp in his footsteps, it all seemed so obvious to you that something was horribly wrong. But if he wouldn’t open up to you about it, you couldn’t do anything but watch your friend suffer, and you hated that. 

Still, there was nothing you could do but lose shut eye as you fret over Alastor most of the night, tossing and turning as you struggled to get sleep while wondering what in the world Alastor was doing, creeping around in the dead of night, and wondering what had happened to him. 

Honest to God, Al’, if you give me one more reason to care about you... 

. . . 

Unfortunately, despite your pleads and Alastor’s poorly kept promise, the evenings that followed had spiraled into a concerning routine for the radio host.

You could only watch with worry that slowly burned into frustration as Alastor would arrive home during near midnight, start dinner, – but eat in his own room, which pleased neither of you – and leave you downstairs with a tired goodnight, and rinse and repeat.

The mornings hadn’t fared much better, either. Instead of Alastor taking your elbow in his, humming a little tune as he walked the both of you to work, he’d wake up at a baffling five in the morning and leave you with a quick spot of breakfast and some money for the bus fare. 

It was an endearing thought that showed Alastor still thought of you, but it did nothing to shake your concern for him. 

Upon the fifth night of this draining charade, you were on the brink of tearing your hair out by the bunches. Fuck respecting Alastor’s boundaries, you couldn't watch him destroy himself anymore.

You had very thoroughly planned to corner him about this, but while waiting for Alastor’s return on the couch, the hour was so late that you had fallen asleep beside the fireplace.

It was only in the very dead of night that you were startled out of your uncomfortable place on the cushions by the click of the front door, and you looked over to the clock to see it was two in the morning. 

About goddamn time. 

Somehow, Alastor knew you were downstairs as soon as he entered the house, and didn’t flinch, jump, or even blink as you magically appeared in front of him, glaring up at him with ire. Or perhaps he really was just that exhausted.

“Hello, darling.” 

God, he just looked so tired, so done with whatever was getting him down that it nearly broke you down. You hated seeing Alastor like this, drained and sapped of all his usual, passionate energy that had once drawn you in for so long. 

“We need to talk. Now.” 

You didn’t even wait for his response as you gently took his hand and led him into the living room, the ticking of the grandfather clock and the short, frustrated breaths you exhaled filling the tense air between you. 

You forced yourself to be stern with Alastor as you sat across from him with your legs crossed and arms folded as your sharpened gaze scrutinized him.

Rubbing your forehead, you sighed and muttered into the awkward air, “Okay, I think it’s time that we’ve talked about your work hours.”

You rolled your eyes as he started with his usual excuses. 

“I’ve told you, I’m doing just fine, darling. I promise, I'm still eating, and I'm just dealing with a few things-" you cut him off with a hand in the air, before leaning over and taking his hands in yours, trying at a less confrontational approach. 

“But why? Why work yourself to the bone like this? What could possibly be stressing you out so much, and for so long? Alastor...” 

Said radio host sighed softly, unable to meet your pleading eyes. Alastor truly couldn’t answer your inquiries, no matter how much you begged him.

He’d lose everything if he told you half of what went down behind closed doors, when the rest of society wasn’t paying attention to him. 

Perhaps someday... But not now. The time just isn’t right. 

“I... I admit, I haven’t been as attentive to you as I should’ve been. I apologize, truly.” Alastor’s fingers grasped yours as he stared into the wood carvings of the table legs. “I just don’t want you to worry over me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.” 

"No, that isn't... Please, Al', just... Let me help you this time,” you sniffled and brought his chin up to meet your eyes that were on the verge of tears, and Alastor knew he couldn’t say no. Goddamn him if he ever let you cry because of his actions.

“Alright... You win, my dear,” he complies, albeit reluctantly, but the sheer joy that coursed through you was too alleviating for you to notice Alastor’s defeated posture as you literally jumped over the table to hug him.

“Good. Don't you scare me like that ever again, you."

You squeezed his midsection into an embrace, and it was then Alastor noted how comically short you were compared to him. 

"I promise, ma chère."

He pet you with a chuckle, his other hand coming around to rub your shoulder as his mind was already racing back to the radio station, and your new arrangement.

"What does that mean?" You looked up at him from where you were, and Alastor simply shook his head and ran his hand through your hair.

"Nothing you should worry yourself over, darling. Now, I believe the matter at hand calls for a discussion," you blinked as he stood up and twirled you around, enjoying your delighted stream of giggles.

"Now, we should discuss the matter at hand," he pulled you into his chest with revived energy and you landed with a soft 'omph!'

"I believe that you, choosing to... Help me out, as it were," you raised an eyebrow as Alastor practically choked it out.

"Should imply that you are willing to become my assistant?" He raised an eyebrow down at you as your eyes widened with delight.

"Oh, yes! That'll be perfect!" You pulled closer to him with stars in your eyes, and Alastor's smile - not strained, nor exhausted of all energy, a real, genuine smile from him - grew as you beamed up at him.

“Don’t get too excited, now. Being my assistant is no easy task.”

You shook your head, grounded in your idea. “It’ll be worth it, if it helps you.”

“If you say so," Alastor grinned down at you. There it was, that relentless need to please him and care for him the way he did for you. Doing good brought its own rewards, he supposed. "But this will only work if Hugo allows it, you know.” 

“Oh, boo! He’ll go with anything I ask of him. Worst-case scenario, he’ll tease me until the cows come home,” you pulled away from Alastor and crossed your arms, unaware of how he tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"I suppose that's a given... Though, I think he'll be just fine without you. The only real change will be your working area," you brightened at the prospect of being able to spend time with Alastor in his own work area, just the two of you, alone, and for the entire day.

"Then again, I’m not particularly fond of the idea of you running about the streets, running my errands for me...” 

You shrug. “I’ll be fine! I didn’t manage to get kidnapped when I got you dinner that one time, so I’m sure I can handle myself,” you waved him off with a dismissive hand, and Alastor’s eyebrow raised. 

“And wherever did you get our dinner from the other night, dearest?” 

You flushed at the nickname and muttered, “Oh, just the diner across the road...” 

“And what have I told you about wandering off, without me by your side?”  

“It was one time! And I survived, so I’ll be alright! Just trust me,” you took his hands with pleading eyes. “Just have a little more faith in me? Please?” 

“Oh, my pretty little assistant... What shall I ever do with you~?” Alastor curled a hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, enjoying the rapid thumping of his heart as pure contentment consumed him from the feeling of your skin against his. 

He grinned down at you as you groaned and buried your face into a pillow, the smug bastard. 

Though the gentlemanly of him was absolutely appalled at the idea of you lifting a finger to help him, Alastor figured that perhaps having a little helper around to deal with the less... gruesome aspects of his line of work could be fruitful.  

He’d get his job done faster, and you’d be even closer to him than ever before.

And he’d have his shadows to send to your side to keep an extra eye on you, and he’d be there in a flash to come to your aid. Plus, this would be a delicious opportunity to indulge in his little assistant fantasies that had been consuming him as of late.  

It would be all the more easier to woo you when you were so close to him, wouldn’t it? 

“Now, darling, for you to become my fully-fledged assistant, we’ll need to make a few... adjustments.” 

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Ok, so I am about to drop some Alastor-based BANGERS next chapter. I'm trying to focus more on the plot for now, so expect more development in the story later.

But first, let's all take a break from the beloved deer man and give Vox some love (totally not biased in any way whatsoever) because I've been starving everyone in Vox Nation 😭 So I gotta leave ya'll hanging for now.

See you next time!

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid, @slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie

ᴋɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢꜱ | ᴘʀᴏʟᴏᴜɢᴇ 𝐀/𝐍: A little preview of the upcoming fic <3 Thank you all for your support and love!

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫. ➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟔𝟒𝟓

. . .

. . .

“I've found you, my sweet, delectable little Doe..."

You stared up at the forming demon above you as wind whipped at your back, and green fog gradually seeped into the room, making you retreat into a pathetic little corner where you cowered beside the corner kitchen island.

"What... What is this!? What are you!?"

The air around you grew thick with the stench of rancid meat, rotten and burning down your throat as you tightly gripped a wooden spoon, looking around wildly for the source of the otherworldly voice. The temperature of the room suddenly dropped a significant amount as the mysterious green mist fully obscured the air around you.

"My, my, that little woman left me quite the darling lamb, hm?"

"W-What woman!? Who are you-?!"

The sudden burst of anger in your chest quickly chilled into fear when a long, shackled chain, simmering-hot to the touch and emitting an emerald glow latched around your neck with a clink. You scratched at it desperately, pure terror and bewilderment radiating from you as the beast's spindly form stepped into view.

Fear gripped you in its frigid clutches as you clenched your teeth, trying to make out the thing's figure from where you were huddled, only catching sight of an alarmingly wide, sharp-toothed smile, and you stiffened, ready to swing your spoon at the first sight of hostility.

What a lovely little Doe... Mimzy wasn't lying.

The demon took a step forward into your space, growling low when you pressed yourself up against the counter in response, ice-cold fear dripping into your veins and making you tremble with each uncertain shift of your body, each hammer of blood pounding in your head, screaming danger, run, go!

"𝐷𝜃𝜂'𝜏 𝜓𝜃𝜇 𝛿𝛼𝛾𝜀 𝛾𝜇𝜂 𝑓𝛾𝜃𝑚 𝑚𝜀."

Slender, tarred claws snatched at you from the darkness, bringing you closer to the source of the pungent smell of rotten flesh and stolen screams, and you dropped your weapon with a surprised yelp. A terrifyingly wide smiled gleamed down at you, teeth yellowed and razor-sharp.

You shuddered as the demon brought you close, grinning even wider at your palpable terror. Your eyes didn't open even as its breath shuddered against your exposed nape, unaware of how the soft flesh of a potential mate called to the demon's deeply buried, primal instincts.

"𝛺𝑖𝜂𝜀," its chest rumbled beneath you with fury, and you squeezed your eyes shut, body bracing and stiffening as you begged so sweetly for him to let you go, that you'd do anything, take anything but this-

"Anything is a strong word, my dear. It goes far beyond the reaches of what I'll have you do," glowing green stitches stretched the menacing grin across ashen-gray skin as it - no, he - smiled down at you, and you noted his striking red hair and raven-dipped tips framing his slim, sharp features, now that you could see him at such a close proximity.

Half-lidded ruby eyes shone in the darkness, amused by the heavy blush that tinged your cheeks, and your breath hitched when you caught a glimpse of his onyx tongue darting out between his soft, slim lips.

"How interesting..."

With a final kiss against the column of your neck, and a husky chuckle against the edge of your jaw, the demon pulled away, leaving you stumbling for his warmth in the green fog like a little lost fawn. So vulnerable, and so adorably lost.

The remaining crackle of static that wisped through the air tickled against your neck, like a phantom of his breath fanning against your hair and tracing up your arms with the promise of sin.

You could feel the smile in the demon's voice as he left you broken and distraught on the frigid kitchen tile, grasping at your neck for the vanished chain that had slipped through your fingers like smoke.

"I'll see you in hell, darling."

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Thanks for reading, and dw, chapter one will be released soon after I finish up another request. I can't tell you how grateful I am to all of you for the praise and love, I've gotten over the weeks, and I can't wait to show my new passion project to ya'll (yes, my passion project is a hormone-induced, spur-of-the-moment, smutty, porn-with-plot Alastor x Reader fic. Sue me for having a hobby lmao)

. . .

➺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid, @slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings.

Kill Your Darlings - Part One

🎙️【 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒆 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: Welcome back, I've cooked up a chapter to kick off my new fic :) I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

Alright, let's get into this. (praying I don't lose motivation to complete this fic)

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰, 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞. ➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏,𝟖𝟏𝟗

. . .

. . .

"I'll see you in hell, darling." 

The deep timbre of the demon’s voice faded into mere traces of static, before dissipating completely as blood rushed to your pounding head. The pale blare of the kitchen lights flooded your vision, and your hands trembled while you clutched your throat with shortened breaths. 

The tightness that compressed your lungs and squeezed the ventricles of your heart seemed to have calmed now, but although the room grew much warmer and your vision had cleared, leaving no trace of green fog to cloud your vision, phantom traces of panic still rattled you.  

But thankfully, your mind seemed to be yours again as you tried to calm yourself. 

Who the hell was that...? What even- How am I even alive?  

Your mind was simmering with questions. Whatever that thing was had left, but you had a sinking feeling that he would return, and that he’d bring something even worse to your doorstep when he finally did. And you didn’t think you could handle another visit, not with your weak, human heart hammering erratically whenever something, anything seemed dangerous. And frankly, all of this fucking screamed ‘DANGER!’ to you. 

An ill wave of nausea churned in your stomach as you shakily pushed yourself up from the frigid kitchen tile. You wanted to scream. You wanted to kick, bite, scratch, do something, anything to keep yourself from driving yourself insane with the thought that the demon would one day darken your doorstep once again. 

Maybe this was all just a bad dream, maybe you’d had a... A fucking hallucination or something that could explain away what you saw, what you felt.  

But the agonizing screeches and whines of radio static, the pure, chilling terror that had engulfed you in that moment, as the stench of festering decay invaded your nostrils and made the hair on your arms stand on-end was no hallucination, no, you highly fucking doubted that. Whatever this was, whatever he was, was beyond your own understanding.  But you had all night to dwell on the demon and his words.

As soon as your back hit the mattress of your bed, the questions that had been brewing in your mind since the moment that monster left finally frothed to the surface. What did that thing – eldritch demon, unholy terror, whatever the hell he was – mean when he said he’d ‘see you in hell’? Who was the woman that had left you to him? And what kind of fucking psycho would condemn another innocent person to this fate, to be haunted by this creature? 

...Did someone offer him your fucking soul? 

As one could guess, you barely got any rest that night, tossing and turning in your weighted blankets, waking up in a cold sweat multiple times from night terrors, before finally, the light of waking dawn burst through your curtains and disturbed you from another gruesome nightmare.

A lasting, burning image of that horrific smile stretched across the demon’s ashen gray skin like a cheeky taunt, a promise of bloodshed as his voice, fuzzy and crackling with static called out to you in your dream. 

“You can run, but you can’t hide from me, my Doe.” 

With a heavy, burdened yawn, you slumped out of bed, barely refreshed and sporting dark circles beneath your eyes. You spared nary a glance at the full-length mirror beside your door to schlep yourself into the kitchen with a groan. 

Nothing a nice cup of coffee can’t fix, was all you could tell yourself for some semblance of comfort as you inhaled the rich bitterness of the coffee machine grinding the beans. 

The tranquility of the morning, to your luck, was short-lived. 

As soon as you took a small sip of coffee, shivering in the cold air of your apartment as you gripped the steaming mug for comfort, a shadow zoomed past your vision, splashing sprinkles of coffee in your face as a dark gust of air whipped around you.

H-He came back? 

That thing - a shadow, or a ghost or something - that had just interrupted your morning musing was now grinning down at you cheekily, leaning against the small section of counters that faced the living room. It sported familiarly sharp features, that, to your horror, suspiciously paralleled the demonic devil-man that had visited you that last night, though it was... wispier, like a phantom, and entirely transparent.

“Holy shit.” 

Your heart squeezed as you pressed yourself against the cold countertop, but fear gave way to irritation when the phantom-demon-thing cackled down at you in your terror, though it was more in the way a radio would sound when trying to tune it. Sharp and deep, crackling through the air as you narrowed your eyes up at it. 

“W-What the fuck is this? What are you doing here...?” The shadow tilted its head down at you, before turning to look into your living room and lighting up. It jumped from its chair and zoomed around, eager to root through the contents of the living room and the kitchen.

You stood there dumbly, white-knuckling the coffee cup while fear tingled up your spine as you watched the curious phantom poke around the cushioned space.

“D-Did he send you here to... Collect me, or something?” You weren’t even sure if the thing could hear you, let alone respond, but either way, the shadow didn’t pay any mind to you. The shadow ignored your growing restlessness as it continued to search around your living room, cooing and ‘awing’ at the old photos of you and your family upon the shelves and fiddling with some of the baubles and decorations you had left around the apartment, mostly antiques and things you had thrifted and collected over the years. 

Suddenly, a low growl of malfunctioning static startled you from watching the demonic apparition whisp and zip around the living area. You raised an eyebrow at the shadow while it rumbled menacingly at the T.V. set in the center of it all. 

“Huh, I guess you can frown,” you crossed your arms and plopped down on the couch. “It’s... just a T.V., what, you’ve never seen one, before?” 

The shadow screeched angrily, and you winced. “Sheesh, alright, sorry.” 

Suddenly, the apparation zoomed across the room, searching for something before finally returning with a few pens and paper, mainly blues and reds. The horned shadow scribbled madly across the parchment, and finally looked up at you expectantly when it had finished its masterpiece. 

“Uh... Well, it’s certainly something,” you held up the paper to the T.V. across from you, comparing the two. It certainly wasn’t an artist, that was for damn sure. The messy drawing of a tuxedo-wearing television glared back up at you with bright crimson eyes, and a dapper little teal suit complete with a matching top hat that you snickered at. 

The letters written beneath the drawing crudely spelled out, ‘VOX’ in bright red marker, and you nodded slowly in understanding.

“So... This Vox,” you braced yourself for a screech as the shadow snarled at the name, “Is your enemy?” It growled and waved its hands around with short, heated clicks and whines thick with radio static. 

You got the message. The T.V. had to go. Or at least, you should never turn it on whenever the shadow visited to... watch over you? Collect your soul for its master? You weren’t entirely sure. Either way, that big old hunk of wires and plastic was expensive as shit, and it wasn’t even yours to begin with, so trashing it would be a no-go.

“Alright, then,” you got up and walked over to the fridge and taped the drawing to its surface. “Vox shall be banished to the ‘Wall of Punishment,’ if he bothers you that much.” 

The shadow jumped up from the couch with a newfound restlessness, curling around your body with a soft, staticky coo as it nodded to the T.V.

“Ohoho, no. That’s staying.” The shadow growled down at you. “But I won’t turn it on, at least for as long as you’re here, alright?” You sighed as the shadow drooped in slight disappointment, before lighting up and jumping over to the uppermost shelf in your living room. You noted a small, fuzzy tail wagging back and forth in excitement as it flew over.

You looked over to where it was floating to see it preening over an old-fashioned radio that you’d gotten years ago from Lord knows where, when you were still a newcomer to New Orleans. You had fixed it up a little, giving it a little re-paint and some long-due maintenance, but you were never savvy enough with older technology to actually fix it up and get it to work. 

“You like it?” The shadow nodded eagerly and picked it up, carefully placing it upon the coffee table and running its shadowy talons over the relic with soft wonder. 

With a small gasp, you watched as a bright green glow engulfed the radio, transforming it completely once the emerald radiance disappeared, and the phantom presented it to you proudly. 

A stately vintage device, looking like it came straight out of the 1920s, glinted up at you on the coffee table, with pretty gold accents and intricacies engraved into its wooden sides. The speakers looked shiny and pristine, more than you could’ve ever done for the radio when you first bought it. 

"Wow... You gave it a real upgrade!"

The shadow preened up at your impressed expression as you eyed the radio with childlike wonder, and it allowed you to run your hands over the device carefully before one of its talons reached over your palm. You tensed and stared up at the demon’s shadow, and the warm feeling of its hand over yours felt so familiar yet terrifying at the same time that you were practically paralyzed in its grip. 

It was as if its touch had given way to unmade memories. A nostalgic stream of warmth, whiskey, and soft jazz, while being held in the steady, loving embrace of a lover during windy summer nights. Slow-dancing on the patio and breathing in the musky night air, mixed with his delectable scent. You blinked up at the shadow, a storm of intrusive thoughts clouding your mind and compelling you to lean into this creature, this demon, this thing that you’d never met. 

But your soul would remember him. He’d make sure of it. 

The radio suddenly crackled, and you jumped and stepped back from the shadow, blushing and blinking furiously out of your daze. The shadow across from you drooped, seeming almost disappointed at the loss of contact as it whined softly and the two, fuzzy ears flopped atop its head.  

“S-Sorry, I-” 

A sharp whine of static and a smooth voice purred from the vintage speakers of the shiny new relic sitting upon your coffee table cut you off. 

“Why, hello again, my dear~.” 

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: PART ONE IS OUT!! FINALLY! AND I'VE PLOTTED (i'm just using an outline) EVERYTHING INSTEAD OF JUST WINGING IT! (a complete and total fucking LIE)

Hope you enjoyed! I'll see ya'll next time ;)

. . .

➺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid, @slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am

Kill Your Darlings - Part Two

🎙️【 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒆 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: Ok, this was a little too short for my tastes, so I'll post pt. 3 soon (which is already done and a lot longer than this since PLOT) but enjoy!

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

A suffocating choke of panic tore at your insides at the sound of the demon’s voice, ringing loud and clear through the pristine speakers of the vintage radio, the haunted device still clutched in the shadow's dark, bony talons. 

The apparition's form crackled with static as your back went rigid and the muscles in your thighs tensed against your armchair, prepared to run at the first sign of danger.

Christ, I might start praying again if this shit keeps happening-! 

“Have you gone hard of hearing, my dear? Or are you truly that inhospitable of a hostess?” The demon was practically grinning through the speakers as it teased you, taking you completely off-guard. His voice that had haunted your dreams was so wildly different and... hauntingly charming, in a soul-rattling way.

“W-What the hell do you want...?” 

“Oh, I’m only checking in on my favorite little human~, making sure my visit didn’t rattle you, too much~...”

He chuckled huskily through the speakers, and you would’ve rolled your eyes at the flatter, had you not been terrified to your core. Being the favorited among the poor souls that some psychotic demon specialized in collecting was no prize to be sought after, nor should it be even considered a compliment.  

Unfortunately for you, this was now your reality. Being the favored among the demon’s possibly vast collection of toys. 

“Favorite? What, because you own my soul, or some shit?”  

The demon laughed, his deep, rich voice summoning a kaleidoscope of butterflies into your stomach. “Oho, you catch on quite quickly, my dear!”

He chuckled heartily for a few more seconds, and the tension in your shoulders was suddenly released at his seemingly laid-back posture. 

“Though, I’d say it’d have something to do with that spitfire tongue of yours,” his voice tickled like a warning against your ears, bringing an underlying feeling of unease. 

Tread carefully, now. Don’t do anything to piss him off. 

“Alright then, fair enough," you leaned against your chair, trying to get your nerves to relax as a healthy dose of pumping adrenaline screamed for you to run far, far away from this beast. That associating with him would only spell your demise.

“Tell me your name.” 

“Hm?” The shadow tilted its head at you, like a confused puppy. It was as if the demon was moving through it, or the shadow was moving for him. Like a puppet.

You huffed. “If I have to ‘devote my soul’ to you, or whatever, I should at least have something to call you,” you let your sentence hang in the air, almost anxious for the demon’s answer as he hummed at your suddenly bold attitude.  

How naive. I can smell your fear from here, my Doe. 

And what a choice of words! Devote your soul to him? A deliciously intimate sentiment that he quite liked, much more than he’d care to admit. 

“Well, I suppose that’s a given...” you sat unblinking while the demon seemed to think it over, and pinpointed the trans-Atlantic accent of his that excited the air with a lively vintage flair. One that a deeply buried part of you that should shut the fuck up found quite charming.

“The name’s Alastor, my dear! And yours?” The shadow leapt forward out of its chair and loomed over you, extending its hand for you to take as its eerie smile stretched across its face even further.

Alastor, huh? Not exactly a name you’d hear being tossed around on the streets, these days.  

You hesitantly took the shadow’s hand and told him your name, plus a polite, “It’s... Nice to meet you, I guess. Again.” 

Narrowing your eyes from the memory of the rather unpleasant experience of meeting the new owner of your soul, you cleared your throat.

There were many questions that you had for this... Alastor. First and foremost, how the hell did he acquire your soul? Why did he sound like he was from a completely different time? What did he look like? Was he going to drag you down into Hell with him?

Those were among the more important ones.

“I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind, Alastor...” 

He shivered from the other end of the line, gripping his microphone with fervor. Oh, how he loved to hear his name pour from your pretty lips. 

“Ask away, my dear~,” the shadow leaned against the chair with a purr, gazing down at you with half-lidded eyes as the radio beside it hummed with static. 

Okay, start with something easy. “How did you even get my soul to begin with?” 

“My, my! You don’t start small, do you?” Alastor grinned into the microphone. Ah, yes, the tale of how he stumbled across your gem of a soul and was promised a soul slave that would tend to him for all of eternity. Such an offer was just too intriguing to refuse! 

Who knew the blonde starlet was hiding such a cute little jewel right up her sleeve? 

“It just so happened that a dear friend of mine was in possession of your soul. They simply offered up yours, in return for all their painfully predictable greed and lust satisfied. Quite the clever loophole, if you ask me!” You bristled slightly. Prying answers from the demon might be a bit more difficult than you thought.

How vague. Touché, Alastor. 

You watched as the shadow’s claws drummed upon the arm rest of the sofa, awaiting for your next question.

“And just what are you going to do with me, when I...” Your eyes flickered with a solemn emotion, knowing that your fate of being chained to this demon would surely drag you down into the blazing basement was guaranteed at this point. 

“Ohoho, you have no idea, do you~?” 

The hairs on the back of your neck rose and goose bumps prickled along your arms as the shadow towered over you, making you curl in on yourself as its lanky, wispy arms came to cage you underneath it.

A long, lithe tongue came to swipe across its lower lip, making an embarrassing heat pool just above your crossed legs. 

“It’s what I’m going to do to you that counts, my darling,” the shadow remained there for a moment longer and leaned ever so close so that you were mere centimeters away.

You couldn't move, couldn't close your eyes, and no deep-seated, primal fear could be found, now. Only shameful fantasies invading your headspace, before the shadow pulled away and settled back onto the couch with a wide, crooked smile while purring proudly, clearly very pleased with itself.

“Now, I do believe I deserve to ask a question of my own, my dear.” The apparition smirked down at you while you sank in your seat with flushed cheeks, still shaken from a dose of tonal whiplash.

“Alright...”  

“Just where do we happen to be? Why, I do wonder whether we’re in the States at all!” Alastor laughed boisterously, and a part of you winced at how fake it sounded. No, perhaps hollow was the word. It was like he was wearing a showman’s mask around you, pretentious and forced, and you hoped you wouldn’t have to live with it for long. 

He’d somehow manage to be even more unbearable... 

“We’re in New Orleans."

Pure silence met you, though the shadow had spoken for its master, as it excitedly raced over to the window like an eager child looking through the frost-paned window of a toy store during Christmastime, garnering a nice view of the city its owner so dearly adored. 

The radio buzzed and whirred behind you, as if it would jump up from its spot on the table. “Is that so?” 

You nodded. “Just moved here, a few weeks ago. Have you ever been?” 

“Have I been here?” He laughed incredulously. “Why, I was born and raised here!” Pride oozed from every syllable as the shadow stood tall with its chest puffed out, while you gripped the edge of your seat.

So, he was once a human?

“Really?” Though Alastor could not see you as of right now, he liked to imagine the cute shock flashing in your eyes, the way your brows raised and how you leaned over the chair as it creaked beneath your shifting weight. “What was it like, living here? When did you die?” 

“Hm... Just around the thirties, if I remember correctly!” He reveled in your soft gasp of shock. “Let me tell you, it was quite the time to be alive!” 

The shadow had stepped away from the window, walking around the living room and making dramatic gestures that carried the flair and elegance of a true showman. Along with Alastor’s addictive voice, it was like watching a live show.

And you were drinking up every drop.

“And, oh, the music! Perhaps one of these days, I’ll show you how to properly cut a rug,” the shadow winked down at you, bristling with glee at your flustered laughter. 

You watched as the shadow paced back and forth while Alastor chatted your ears off, finding your ice-cold resolve to avoid this demon at all costs deteriorating by the minute. 

But, still, all good things had to come to an end, as they say.

“Alright, alright, this has been fun, but...” you side-eyed your work laptop that sat innocently upon the kitchen countertop. “I really need to get to work, now.” 

The shadow drooped, its seemingly permanent smile dripping into a frown. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to abandon a lovely afternoon with me for that,” Alastor sneered at the laptop as the shadow pointed towards it accusingly, “silly, pompous, piece-of-shit, whatever the hell it is.” 

You sighed, standing your ground reluctantly. “Trust me, it’s not like I love working, but, hey, you know how it is.”  

Walking over to the laptop, you rolled your eyes as the shadow hissed lowly. “I won’t be long, okay? Now, unless having my soul warrants you keeping me from paying the bills, I’m getting to work.” 

“At least tell me what kind of entertainment it can provide that I can’t,” Alastor spat as the shadow crossed his arms and stood rigid above the laptop with a sharp scowl. 

“I told you, it’s not entertainment, it’s my job,” you replied with exasperation, “I’m an editor for a publishing company. Now, shoo, shoo, I have a manuscript to review,” you boldly waved your hands at the shadow in a ‘go on, git,’ motion. 

The shadow hunched over you with a low growl, its antlers stretching towards the ceiling as a harsh crackle of static pierced your ears.

“Now, is that any way to talk to your Master?”

A spike of fear tried prying you in the other direction towards the door, but a flicker of irritation at his very interesting choice of words won out against your sudden spine-chilling terror. 

“I don’t believe you have that right to call yourself my Master just yet,” your eye twitched as you clenched your fists, instantly reminded of who – no, what you were dealing with. You couldn’t have felt more stupid to be swayed by his charms in that moment. 

“Alright, then, have it your way,” the shadow curled around you with a low, almost seductive purr, tilting your chin upwards with a single, inky talon. “But know that I’ll be cashing in on that statement, when you eventually fall to me.” 

You raised an eyebrow, pupils thinning in a challenge. “Oh? And what makes you think I’m going to Hell with you?” 

“Oh, you will, darling. Trust me, you will.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Next chapter will be lengthier but right now I'm just building up the ✨pLoT✨ so don't worry :) But the updates will be faster on my A03 account just because making them on Tumblr takes more time.

𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭: Forgot to use the updated taglist 😭 I'm sorry about that

. . .

➺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma

Kill Your Darlings - Part Three

𝐀/𝐍: I think I'll start posting the rest of this series on A03, while posting one-shots and requests on Tumblr. It's been cool posting my series here, but I prefer posting to A03 when it comes to longer fics.

Nonetheless, please enjoy!

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟑,𝟑𝟓𝟎

The incessant clicking of a mousepad and the mad ticking of fingers flying over a keyboard filled the barren kitchen, as he occasional moan of the wind rocking the apartment complex back and forth and the cold, hard blare of the silver screen on your laptop aggravated the pain of your headache.  

The tips of your toes just barely brushed against the frigid kitchen tile as you leaned obsessively over your computer, clicking away on the mousepad like it was your lifeline.  

At that point, it very well could’ve been, since the precious piece of technology held all of your answers, answers that Alastor wouldn’t offer you – not without a price. 

And you had nothing left to barter, since he already owned your soul – a thought that loomed over you when the demon wasn’t around to distract you from that chilling reality. Alastor owned you. He could’ve pushed you around like a dog strapped to a chain, and yet he didn’t. Most likely because he couldn’t truly control you, since you weren’t lost to his wrathful clutches just yet. 

So, using your timed freedom, you did some digging around on the web in a last-ditch attempt to find anything about Alastor himself, and his history. Know thy enemy, as the saying goes. 

But whether he was truly your enemy, would be tested with time. 

And right now, the blasted internet was proving to be a worthy opponent, since you were practically tearing your hair out by the bunches since you barely discovered anything about him. Still, you were determined to decode his mystery. Humans were terrifyingly efficient at finding each other, and dead ones would be no more difficult, even if you found squat about Alastor. 

Mark my words. I’ll find out who you are, Alastor.  

“Where there is a will,” you clicked away from the barren search results, fully prepared to surf around the dark web if you had to, “There is a fucking way.”  

Even though you hadn’t a clue to his origins or background, you were convinced that Alastor had to have been some kind of serial killer while he was alive, and you’d bet your soul on it.  

His personality fit the stereotype – a well-based one, at that – he was haunting your fucking radio – granted, a very swanky radio – and on top of that, Alastor was a literal demon . Maybe. You weren’t all that certain about what exactly he was, but there was too much evidence supporting the theory to consider him being anything but. 

Whatever the case, you were convinced. Alastor was, without a doubt, a bona fide serial murderer . Perhaps that ominous information should’ve put you on edge, but you were twisted too deep in Alastor’s captivating mystery to care. Fascination had overcome your fear of the unknown, and you were ready to dive in, and lose yourself in his mysterious past. 

But that was proving to be damn near impossible, when you could barely find anything about the bastard. He was a footnote in history, at best. No last name, no family members related to him, nothing.  

Still, you were determined. 

Leaning forward, you chewed on your thumb nail whilst scrolling through yet another forum that went into thorough detail about demon encounters and sacrificial rituals. Or, at least, a human’s rendition of them.  

You had sifted through a fair share of information on demons as well but turned up with virtually nothing, save for many helpful bold-lettered warnings that demanded to be heeded: Do not. Fuck. With demons.  

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered to yourself, clicking away from the site before groaning and massaging your aching temples. 

By all standards, it had been an agonizingly unproductive session of information-scouring. However, you had made some headway with a client of yours and finished most of your task list. Everything minor was shoved to the side in desperation of somehow piecing together Alastor’s intentions, stressing over his poorly veiled threats, and trying to figure out just whoever the hell he was in life. 

Just as you were about to yield to the great barriers of the internet, with nothing but an increased hopelessness and frustration at your lack of understanding of your new “Master” – as you were loath to call him – a soft wisp of a shadow flitting about the kitchen caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. 

“Hello, there,” you sighed without looking up at the shadow, already annoyed with its presence as it leaned over the counter with a smug grin.  

One glance at the computer and your hopelessness told it a thousand words regarding your predicament. 

“Yeah, yeah, you can gloat later. I got plenty done, anyhow.” You raised an eyebrow towards it. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about him, would you?” 

The shadow stared down at you, unimpressed as it crossed its arms, crackling curtly in response. Absolutely not.   

“Aw, come on, not even for a snack? I could make you something.” You nodded towards the fridge, grinning when it perked up and followed your glance. “Just throw me a bone here. Give me a hint, anything, and maybe I’ll give you a nice meal. How does that sound? C’mon, I’m sure you’re hungry.” 

Its emerald green sockets glimmered mischievously, and it bristled with a soft purr as it leaned down on the counter, practically drooling at the thought of a meal.  

A low rumble shook the floors with an unmistakable growl of hunger, and it whined softly. 

You pouted sympathetically. Seems like Alastor hasn’t fed it, recently.  

“Oh, poor baby,” it nuzzled into your soothing touch as you scratched behind one ear. “I’m sure he doesn’t feed you as much as he should,” the shadow’s stomach rumbled in response. 

“Resorting to bribery, are we?”  

You rolled your eyes as the radio flickered on, and you raised an eyebrow at it as it sat innocently upon the coffee table. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You cooed down at the eager shadow as you completely ignored Alastor and his offended scoff.  

“Ignoring someone when they’re talking to you is quite rude, my dear-!”  

“I have some chicken that I can prepare for you. You can choose the spices, the temperature, whatever you want,” you were beaming cheekily when the shadow perked up, one fuzzy ear twitching towards you. 

“Temptress,” Alastor snapped. 

You at least had the decency to feel partly ashamed, though you just grinned triumphantly. You weren’t proud of having to barter for information, but whatever got you the scoop on Alastor was well worth it. 

“That’s right, just imagine those carefully baked, golden-brown edges, and oh, think of the spices!” Alastor rolled his eyes at your dramatic tone, choosing to peek through the shadow’s eyes at you. Pretty little temptress. You’d somehow tamed his shadow, and he was certain it wasn’t just the chicken that it was after.

To Alastor’s chagrin, the devilish phantom had all but leapt over the counter towards you, curling around you with a loud purr as it nuzzled into your neck.  

You chuckled at its antics and pushed yourself up from your seat, stretching your cramped back and legs and wincing from the lightning strikes of pain that shot up your joints from the hours of sitting in a hunched position. 

“Alright, let’s get you some food,” you scratched beneath its chin, and it hummed contentedly in response, its fluffy tail enthusiastically beating the air. 

“Traitor.”  

You cast a triumphant smirk at the slight pout in Alastor’s from the other side of the line. “Oh, I’m just doing some charity work. Clearly, you’ve been starving the poor thing,” you rubbed the shadow’s cheek, grinning smugly as it nuzzled into your neck with a soft coo. 

“Charity work!? You’ve seduced it with your wiles!” Alastor spat indignantly. 

You rolled your eyes while pulling out a few ingredients. “It’s food, Alastor. And you know what they say,” the shadow suddenly tittered and flew away from your side to rummage through the spice cabinet, “The way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach.” 

“It has no heart, and it is no man,” his tone darkened slightly, but you either took no notice or simply didn’t care as you took out the raw chicken from the fridge. 

“But it’s attached to one,” you grinned cheekily as the shadow returned with several spices in its arms while smiling widely with a wagging tail, while Alastor scoffed with a roll of his eyes. 

You clapped your hands. “Alright, let’s get to work.” 

. . .  

Alastor had grown quiet for most of the process, leaving you and the shadow in pure, content silence as you got to work around the kitchen. The shadow was entirely unbothered at his master’s sudden radio silence, instead choosing to make itself comfortable looming around your form while watching you season and prepare its supper. 

As you waited for the chicken to be cooked, you turned to the shadow who had been staring at you with its head resting upon its inky palm while watching you work with salivating, emerald eyes, simmering with the fire of raw gemstones.

“Now, I believe I was promised some information in return?”  

Static buzzed as it put a finger to its chin, humming softly before speeding off into the apartment, and it soon returned with a pen and paper and scribbled madly across the parchment. 

Alastor Hartifelt.  

As soon as the name tumbled from your lips, a loud record-scratching screech sounded from the living room.  

Ӻᵾȼҟ.  

But you didn’t even flinch at the ear-splitting noise as you grinned and nodded in approval, your determination flickering bright yet again. “Finally, we’re getting somewhere.” You barely got a moment to process your excitement at a new lead, a possible doorway to the holy grail of information about the strange, ominous demon haunting your actual radio-!  

Ding!  

The shadow’s ears twitched in the direction of the noise, and it was suddenly nipping at your nipping at your heels and pushing you insistently towards the oven. You were certain that it was drooling all over your floor, but you stifled your jittering excitement anyway. There were promises to be fulfilled, after all.

“Alright, alright!” Batting the phantom away, you grabbed the oven mitts with a sigh. 

“Not so easy now, is it?”  

“Oh, nobody asked you!” 

You soon plated the chicken and served it over to the phantom, who made quick work of the poor bird in mere seconds. At least it was already dead, you shuddered, trying to push the image of being ferociously torn apart by its razor-sharp canines out of your mind. 

It licked its chops with a satisfied rumble once it finished with not a crumb left on the plate you offered, and you were still reeling from the bizarre few minutes you spent watching it enjoy your cooking. 

I wouldn’t be surprised if it licked the plate. Seriously, how long has it been since the poor thing’s eaten?  

The shadow immediately curled around you as you sat down in front of the counter, hissing lowly at the laptop before burying its face in your neck with a soft growl. You didn’t want to be rude and shove it away, and besides, the shadow’s aura was surprisingly warm, which shielded you from the cold, drafty air of the apartment. 

And so, you allowed it to remain cooing and teething around your neck – as on-edge as it made you – while you typed Alastor’s full name into the search bar. 

As soon as you hit enter, the internet decided to be helpful again, and provided you with a golden website, containing any and all answers to your ever gluttonous curiosity for your new demonic companion, and his shadowy servant.

You smirked and ruffled one of the shadow’s ears. “Nice sleuthing, Alastor Jr.” The shadow grinned into your neck and pulled you even closer, while Alastor chuckled softly at the nickname, choosing to survey the laptop through the eyes of his ghostly scout. 

Not the first choice I’d make, since simply going down to the station would’ve sufficed.  Alastor sniffed and rapped his gleaming nails against his desk, eyeing the device with distaste. Then again, it doesn’t seem like those incompetent oafs would want an account of something so gruesome happening just beneath their noses staining their records!  

You relaxed into your seat, mentally preparing for the deep dive into Alastor’s shady past that you were about to take. It seemed that no information was buried enough to be obscured, so long as you were awfully specific with your search.  

But thank the merciful deities above that some history buff – who seemed quite outraged at the lack of discussion and information around their favorite serial killer – had taken it upon themselves to collect and piece together a consistent timeline of events, all centered around one Alastor Hartifelt. 

Got’chya.

You scrolled a little bit through the Godsent gold mine of information, baffled at just how much there was for you to access. Apparently, Alastor Hartifelt had been a charismatic personality on the radio, a beloved host and rising star in New Orleans. Around the time that he’d made his debut as a radio host, however, was when the murderers started. 

The presence of the Bayou Butcher rocked the city harder than any other scandal at the time, and you couldn’t blame the people for being so paranoid, after reading the brief description of his kills, and his M.O. 

You whistled. “Damn. You have quite the track record, Alastor.” 

“I’m well aware, my dear!”  

You raised an eyebrow at the sound of ruffling paper in the background, accompanied by the clicking of frantic typing. But it didn’t sound anything like the short tapping of a keyboard, and the telltale ring heightened your suspicions. He cannot be serious...  

“Alastor, do you have a goddamn typewriter?”  

“It’s essential, darling! Every good radio host needs a captivating script,” you laughed and shook your head. He’s committed to the bit, I’ll give him that. 

As you explored the very depths of the case surrounding the Bayou Butcher, you began to grow quite curious and weary of just how Alastor disposed of his victims. Unfortunately, there was a certain tab that fed into that very curiosity. At least they provided a warning, before you could view what came next. This one was on yourself. 

“Fucking Christ!” You nearly jumped out of your seat as you clasped your mouth in horror, eyes widened with terror at the gory, uncensored photograph of one of Alastor’s maimed victims.  

The poor soul’s belly had been slit open with a still-inserted butcher knife, with his rotting insides displayed for all to see and staining the floor with bile and undigested food. Squirming maggots and fat cockroaches feasted upon the corpse, which had been festering with mold and disease in Alastor’s basement for quite some time before the authorities found it. 

“Language, my dear~,” said demonic psychopath sang from the radio, and you were just about ready to chuck that thing out of your window as your eye twitched. 

“Prick...” you muttered, quickly scrolling away from the photograph. 

“I heard that.”  

“Greatest apologies, my liege,” you rolled your eyes. Alastor let out an amused huff but said nothing as he went right back to typing out his script. 

Bold headlines like ‘The Bayou Butcher Strikes Again!’ or ‘Victims Brutalized and Missing, Families Torn Apart’ were thrown around wherever you scrolled, and a mere glance at the cohesive timeline provided in one of the documents gave you a good window for how long Alastor had been active. 

“Huh. Seven years...” Alastor perked up at the sudden weariness lacing your meek voice. He had been tuning out for most of your little binging spree, instead electing to tuck into a book in the later evening, since sleep was seldom required for him. Nonetheless, he reluctantly took a peek through his shadow’s eyes to see what you were looking at on that blasted lap-top doohickey of yours, and dread filled his heart. 

Seems that some folks were quite fixated upon my choice of diet...  

Alastor bristled at the other end of the line, practically scenting the small flicker of terror. Your rising fear of him was building up again, and that just wouldn’t do.

Sure, Alastor was cruel, a monster, even, and he knew it. His deeds would instill fear in the hearts of even the most hardened soldiers, and his gluttony, his bloodlust knew no bounds. But not to you, not to the poor, lost little lamb that he’d so graciously taken into his care, that practically domesticated his shadow, who bantered with him. And just when he’d finally broken down a small part of your walls- 

“...So, is it true?” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow, halting from his tireless typing for a moment. “Is what true, my dear?”  

“That you...” you held back from gagging, and a slick smile crept onto his gray lips, “That you ate some of your victims?” 

Sighing, he leaned back in his cushioned chair and gripped the small microphone that he used for broadcasting. The idea of lying to you, treating you like everyone else prickled at his heart with resentment. There was no need to push you away. You were different. It would be different, this time. 

It had to be.

With a defeated sigh, Alastor nodded, though you couldn't see him. At least you’d know, now. At least there wouldn’t be any secrets between you two. 

“Yes,” was the demon, the cannibal’s resounding answer, and the room grew a few degrees colder with tension.  

You’d known that Alastor was... shady, at best. But now, it was out. It was certain. Alastor was a dangerous man, during life and death, but you knew that from the jump.

But at least he told you the truth, and maybe you could count on that, which was a strangely comforting thought. 

You sighed with relief. “As long as you don’t force me to try it.” Alastor chuckled along with you, grinning wider when you clicked away from the computer and sat back with a tired sigh.

“I think that’s enough snooping for tonight. ‘Night, Al’,” you yawned and softly rolled the shoulder that the phantom had been leaning on, and it retracted reluctantly with a soft whine. 

“Wait-!”  

You paused. Turning to the radio, you cocked an eyebrow at the desperation in Alastor’s voice, and he seemed to notice it too, since an awkward silence followed. Heat crept up the radio host’s neck, prompting him to itch and pull at his collar with a low snarl. 

Alastor fucking loathed this feeling. 

“Did you... Did you see anything else? Anything that caught your eye, perhaps?”  

It was the first time that Alastor had spoken to you with anything but suave confidence. “No, why? Is there something even worse than cannibalism, that I should know about?” Crossing your arms, you leaned against the threshold of the living room. 

Alastor softly cleared his throat. “No, nothing like that, my dear. I was simply curious as to how much information was disclosed...” he straightened in his seat, refusing to recognize his anxiousness. “Any mentions of family, spouses, perhaps...?”  

You shook your head with a negatory hum. “Nope, it was all just about you. Why’s that? Did you have a wife? Or a husband?” 

“Just wondering, darling,” he replied hastily, choosing to side-step that question as relief flooded him.

You eyed the radio sympathetically. “Sorry, if that’s... a bit too personal for you. I get it, if you don’t want to talk about it.” Shrugging, you started down the hallway with a wave and a yawn. “Goodnight, Alastor.” 

Alastor watched you, yearning, remorseful eyes tracing the familiar, soft curves of your form as you disappeared down the hallway.

And he answered your final words of the night, a solemn whisper against the cold, bleak air as memories of decades passed invading his memory, threatening overflowing emotions to pool to the surface. 

If you only you could hear the choke in his voice, the restrained tears, the remorse, the regret.  

“Goodnight, my darling.”  

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Thank you for reading <3 It'll be a while before I post here again, since I'll be focusing on my series on A03. If you'd like to read the rest of the fic, I'll put my account below for ya'll

𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 - A03

. . .

➺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma, @cassidywinters

Has it always been this hot in here? Someone turn on the air conditioning-

I FINALLY FINISHED IT, 😭😭 It took me a lot to make a background that I will like.

HERE FOR THE PARTNERS IN CRIME!!! THIS IS SO GOOD PLEASE I NEED MORE BONNIE AND CLYDE DYNAMICS BETWEEN THESE TWO!!

Love two psychopaths being absolutely infatuated with each other. Arguably one of the best romance tropes imho 😚🤭

His Dear (Pt7)

Warnings: this chapter will definitely have murdering/killing so please do read at your own risk but I also do promise I will not get into the deep gory details and will keep it as simple as I can. Also some sexual themes (no smut but MDNI, 18+). Also some unwanted attention from a local, and as usual, language. This one might actually be a long part so sit back, relax and lastly...Enjoy!

artist: unknown (if you know the artist, PLEASE! Let me know so i can give credit where it belongs!)

Like my love promised me, the second we got home, we planned out our murder for Aaron, the butcher. The plan was easy, effortless really. It was bright in the morning as I was cooking a small breakfast as Alastor was fixing his tie. "Well my dear, I'm off to work. Can't be late now." he smiled at me. "Dear, you need to eat something. Imagine what the folks in town will say when you go to work hungry." I frowned, dusting off my apron. "Cherie, it is okay. If anything, please. Feel free to make a splendid lunch and come visit me in the studio." he grinned before pulling me into a deep kiss. I melted into it as he held me tightly, "Mhm, I love you so much, amour." I smiled as we let go of each other. He winked at me, "Til the end of time, my dear. See you in a few hours." and with that, he slipped out the door. I closed the door behind him before finishing my breakfast. I ate breakfast by myself with some coffee. After I finished, I got ready for the day before heading out in the town. I smiled, saying hello to the town folks. Idiots, thinking Alastor and I are such an innocent, lovely couple. I mean, that is the image we try to maintain. No way we needed someone pointing fingers at us for the Bayou murders. "Darling, hello!" Tiffany's voice shouted from across the street. "Tiffany, good morning. How are you, sweetie?" I smiled as we hugged each other lightly. "Not too bad, doll. You hear Mary, our other doll, is about to pop anytime soon?" she gasped. "Ah, Mary's been wanting this baby for quite some time now. Beyond happy for our dear." I smiled widely. "Maybe we should throw a small party for her, just us ladies. So she's comfortable." Tiff suggested. "Ah, what a delightful idea! We can certainly plan this out soon. I just need to run to the butcher shop for dinner. I can swing by after." I nodded in agreement. "Oh good! I'm on my way home anyways. George's nurse needs to leave work earlier today. Not a problem, since she's amazing with my baby boy. But we will both see you soon." she waved goodbye and we walked past each other. I made my way to the butcher shop, seeing Aaron Brant. "Good day, isn't it, Mrs. Hartfelt?" Aaron asked me. I nodded, "Indeed it is, Mr. Brant." I agreed, "What can I help you with today, Mrs?" he questioned. I ordered the meat needed, especially to make small finger sandwiches for Alastor's lunch.

"Say, Aaron, why don't you join my husband and I for dinner? You always provide us with the best yet freshest meat anyone could ask for." I tried to hide my excitement. "Oh, of course. Thank you for the invitation, doll. My Mrs, and the kids are out of town visiting her mother. So the company would be nice." he smiled before handing me my order. I grinned back, "Anytime dear, see you later this evening." I winked before disappearing out of the shop. I went home and put the meat away yet kept some out to prepare mine and Alastor's lunch. I did some light cleaning, did some laundry and sorted the mail for Alastor to view later on tonight while he drinks some of his whiskey. I made our bed and put some clothes away. I went downstairs to the kitchen and I started prepping our shared lunch and packed it neatly into a container. I decided to leave the house early to stop by Tiffany's, like it was discussed earlier. "I'm sure she'll let me leave this in her fridge for the time being." I shrugged as I left the house. I quickly walked the two minutes to Tiff's and she let me in. "Oh dear, please put that in the fridge. Can't have our favorite radio host eat a spoiled lunch." She winked, guiding me to the kitchen where George was seen in his high chair. I put the food in the fridge before looking at the baby, "Hello, handsome boy." I cooed at him, making him laugh. "You can hold him, doll. It's alright." Tiffany smiled, sitting at the table in the kitchen. I smiled as I took a hold of George in my arms, and he started playing with my pearl necklace Alastor had gifted me on our wedding anniversary. I took a seat at the table with Tiffany, "He's such a sweetie, Tiff." I nuzzled my nose with the baby, making him gurgle. "He always loves when you visit. Speaking of, when are you and Al going to have a baby?" she smirked, taking a sip of her lemon-lime soda. "Mhm, I'm not too sure. We've spoken about having a kid, not sure when." I replied as I rubbed the baby's back softly. I started rocking him in my arms and he sucked on his thumb, "He might fall asleep on you." Tiff grinned. "That's alright, honey. Anyways, for Mary's gathering?" I questioned, still rocking George. "Right, I think we should have some light party snacks, themed pink for her baby girl, Anna, of course." Tiff suggested. "Of course, I can make my famous finger sandwiches." I chirped as I heard soft snores. We looked down at the baby asleep in my arms, making us laugh, "He's a cutie. Come on, Y/N. You've always been so good with my kids, even when our eldest Charles was born. You're destined to be a mother! You and Al have been married for quite some time now, we need Baby Hartfelt!" Tiffany exclaimed. "I'll bring it up to Mr. Alastor later." I smirked as I continued to softly rock the sleeping baby in my arms. "What about we do the gathering this weekend? I mean, that poor woman is going to pop that baby any day now." Tiffany snickered. I nodded, "Sounds great. I'm sure she'll enjoy it. It'll get her mind off the labor." I commented. I looked at the time, "Oh, must make my way to Mr. Al now for lunch, dear." I stated as I handed the baby to her. I grabbed the sandwiches out of her fridge before leaving.

I made my way to Alastor's studio within a few minutes, with a few workers greeting me. One of them walked me to Alastor's recording room. "Thank you, darling." I smiled at them before walking into the room. "Oh, my dear! You're here, I've been excited to see you." he jumped out of his seat before welcoming me with a juicy kiss. "Mhm, good to see you as always, amour." I smiled before sitting down in the other seat. "Let me guess, you made your famous finger sandwiches?" he smirked, taking his seat again. I nodded, "Thankfully I got extra meat at home, Tiff and I are thinking of doing a girls lunch to help Mary relax with her birth coming up." I smiled as he opened the container. He was quick to devour one sandwich, "I think that's nice of you, ladies. I'm sure Mary will appreciate her friends for thinking of her." Alastor smiled once he finished his sandwich. "And I got to see George, you know, Tiffany and James' little boy." I smiled, folding my hands on my lap. "Did you? How was that?" he smiled at me, before handing me a finger sandwich. I took a small bite then swallowed, "Lovely, he fell asleep on me, dear. It was the cutest thing ever. And Tiffany pressed me about us having kids." I sighed, taking another bite. "I mean, we spoke about having kids. Only matter of time til I knock you up." he chuckled. I nearly choked on my sandwich as he reached for another one, "Alastor, someone could've heard." I quietly scolded. "Oh, I invited the butcher for dinner." I smirked, crossing one leg on top of the other. "Mhm, perfect. Just perfect." he grinned widely, taking a bite of his next sandwich. "I love you so much, dear. I can't imagine my life without you. Even if we go to Hell or Heaven, you better be by my side." he mumbled quietly, pulling me onto his lap. I giggled at his touch before wrapping my arms around his neck then using one hand to caress his face, "No matter where you go, amour. I will be RIGHT there by your side." I assured him before kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled at me before kissing my exposed neck, "Baby, not here." I whispered, looking back at his door. "They know better than to walk in." he lowly growled as he made me straddle him on the chair. "Maybe I can try my best to knock you up now before you go home." he chuckled deeply, his grip on my waist getting tighter. "And do a walk of shame throughout the town, amour?" I whispered, leaning in closer to his face. "It's better, everyone will know not to touch what's MINE when my cum is dripping down your thighs, sweetheart." he squeezed my hips harshly. He went back to leave kisses on my neck, holding my body tightly closer to his. Quiet moans rolled off my tongue as I pulled on his hair. I couldn't help but grind myself against him, "My dear, might have to extend my lunch a bit longer." his voice deeply spoke against my neck. I hummed as he lifted me off him enough to unbuckle his pants. Once they reached his ankles, his hands went up my dress and his hands grabbed the hem on my underwear, and practically ripped them off. "Jesus, Alastor." I gasped as his hungry demeanor. Next thing I knew, I was on top of his table with my legs spread open and he lowered his head to the in between of my thighs.

I was cooking dinner and Alastor came home earlier today and he was sipping on his whiskey I recently poured for him. The doorbell went off, "No worries, dear. I will retrieve the doorbell." he grinned, standing up. He dusted himself off as he went to the door, "Good evening, Aaron. Pleasure to have you over, quite the pleasure." Al greeted him as he walked him into the kitchen, "Good evening, Mrs. Hartfelt. Splendid to see you again." Aaron smiled before taking a seat at the table with Alastor. "Would you like some whiskey?" Alastor offered, holding up a clean glass with his whiskey bottle. "Yes, please. If you don't mind." Aaron nodded. "Ma'am, I have to say. Whatever it is you're cooking, it smells wonderful!" Aaron complimented. "Why thank you, sweetheart. It's a gumbo recipe my mother-in-law taught me." I smiled as I stirred the pot. "Huh, gumbo? I haven't had some since my mother passed away a few years ago." he huffed, chugging the whiskey, "Might I add, you look wonderful too." he chuckled, pouring another glass. I gulped as I continued cooking, "She does, I am one lucky man." Alastor chimed in, sipping his drink. I served the first servings of gumbo to Aaron and Alastor first before I sat down with my own, "Excuse me. I need to use the restroom." Alastor said, wiping his face with a napkin before removing himself from the table. "Wonderful dish prepared by a wonderful woman." Aaron rested his hand on my thighs, making me choke on my food. "I appreciate it, sir. But please, I am spoken for." I huffed, removing his hands. "Are you really sure that tall, lanky freak rocks your world enough? Be honest with yourself now, sweetheart." he whispered, playing with my hair. I sucked in my cheek, wanted to scream, but I also did know how to dismember this man in so many ways but his attention was making me extremely uncomfortable in my own home. "Come on, darling. And he hasn't made you a mother yet? What, can he not produce? Let me help you with that." his hands made it back to my thighs, squeezing it so tightly making me yelp loudly. "I suggest you remove your hand from MY wife." Alastor voice spoke up. We looked up and saw him playing with a sharp knife. I could have sworn I saw the flick of red in his eyes, "Heh, your wife needs an actual man who can give her kids and take care of her. Not some lanky radio host like you, buddy." Aaron chuckled deeply. I ever so quickly grabbed the knife nearest to me, which was a steak knife. I held it against his throat and he got caught by surprise, "What kinda freaks are you, with your sharp knives?" He huffed, holding his hands up. "Ones you don't wanna mess with, idiot." I muttered in his ears. Alastor chuckled as he tied Aaron to the seat, "You know, everyone at the hair salon talks right? Us women, mhm, we love to gossip. So there's been some rumors floating around about you, Mr. Brant." I scoffed, standing in front of him, pointing the knife to his Adam's apple. He gulped, "Rumor has it that your poor wife and kids are dealing with beatings from you, nightly." Alastor stated. "Well, they aren't enough. They're annoying little maggots who get in my way constantly." he scoffed angrily. "Oh, but here you were hitting on me and offered to knock me up." I spat, moving the knife swiftly to leave a minor cut on his arm, but deep enough for the blood to pour out. The crimson color of the blood crept out of the cut, and spilled over his arm and dropped onto our perfect kitchen floor. "Are you fucking insane?" he hissed at the pain. "Haha, we actually are." I giggled as Alastor stood next to me and we both gave the local butcher an ear to ear smile, making him even more freaked out. "You've been such an unfaithful husband. You hit on my wife, who knows what else you've done." Alastor sighed, before slicing off his ring finger, making the gold wedding band drop into the puddle of blood directly underneath it.

"GOD, FUCK! PLEASE STOP! IT HURTS, I'M BEGGING YOU!" he cried out, squirming in his seat. "No need to beg, because you won't exist any longer." Alastor swiftly swung the kitchen knife and it left a huge slit in the butcher's throat. The blood poured out of the cut and all over the dead body. His lifeless eyes rolled to the back of his head and his mouth hung open. “Don’t forget to smile, darling.” I grinned from ear to ear as I carved a smile on his face. "Dear, I assume you have the correct cleaning products for this mess?" Alastor questioned, fixing the position of his glasses on his face. I hummed and nodded, giving him an innocent smile. "Never let me be in that position again to be touched by someone so filthy, amour. Ever." I spat. "I'm sorry he went as far as touching you, Cherie. But we all know at the end of the day you are mine. Even after the end of time." Alastor grabbed me and dipped me in his arms, making me erupt in laughter. "Always and forever will be yours, baby. Until all the stars die." I smiled before leaning up to kiss him.

TAGLIST: @saccharine-nectarine @little-slyvixen @cutiebimbo @jyoongim @dasimp777 @yourdoorisunlocked @popamolly @froggybich @roxxie-wolf @breedemon @sky2lar @littlebluefishtail @vintage-bumblebee @avadakadabra93 @mo-0-o @cinnamon-galaxies @trippoverrt @willowshadenox @alastorssimp @cherry-cola-100 @imnotkaylee @yahboohah @darling-angel222 @sirens-and-moonflowers @itsmskeisha @tiredflame132 @kouyoumarryme @meral-ace-art @simple-fan2 @slytherin4ever @theday-dreamer17 @mommymilkers0526 @noraunor @louixcx @paigeywagey24 @alancianariddle0727 @harmfulb1tch

A/N: I'm so sorry it was so long. I was just having too much fun writing this part. Anyways, some Bonnie and Clyde type shit huh? I do apologize with how terribly written the murder scene is, I'm not THAT experienced with writing stuff like that... yet. Practice makes perfect. Also... how would we feel about a Human!Alastor x Y/N smut in the next part that contains Human!Alastor??? Also may be posting the chapters a few hours earlier now since I tend to knock out and can’t stay up for the life of me anymore😭😭

ALSO FAIR WARNING, I do try to proofread my work but I normally miss something so if I do, feel free to correct me. I do tend to make SOME minor changes too after posting; Thank you, toots🥰

Ok, I know I am SO fucking late with the Adams Family one-shot I promised...

But life hit me with a goddamn bullet train and left me for dead at the side of a highway in LA during rush hour, so please hear me out.

For those who are still waiting for the Adams Family!Alastor x Reader - IT WILL COME OUT, BUT I want to make some simple headcanons while I continue to write it. They'll be posted later today to get my motivation for writing on Tumblr back up

The Altruist Family - Headcanons

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬/𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Devotion, romantic homicide, dancing, obsession, Lovesick!Alastor, Addams Family AU :)

🎙️ As soon as Alastor met you, he was prepared to whip out the wedding ring and propose to his dear mother’s best friend’s daughter. And he despised it. The feeling of that sappy ‘love at first sight’ bushwa that Alastor had long since cast aside in contempt. No woman – or man – caught his fancy nor his eye, so why you?  

🎙️ He didn’t even know your name, but he wanted to. He wanted to scrawl it all over every inch of his body and mark yours with his name.

🎙️ An insufferably bizarre sensation that prickled in his chest with every waking moment he spent without you had bloomed, and Alastor would’ve done anything to snip this at the root – at first. 

🎙️ Alastor was terrified that he wasn’t bothered by these sappy thoughts. But as he came to accept them, he found himself nurturing the most absurd fantasies of you, ones of holding you close to him beneath the moonlight, undressing your delectable flesh beside the warmth of a fire, each press of his lips against your tender skin being a promise of an eternity together.

🎙️ As much as he tried to suppress them, there was no stopping Alastor's enamored mind from centering nearly every aspect of his life around you. So, he eventually learned to yearn for the warmth that enveloped his heart whenever he saw you, watching your every move from afar.

🎙️ "Look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her," he murmured to himself, watching you dance across the speakeasy floor and following your every step with a yearning gaze. "Either way, what bliss..."

🎙️ Husker has most definitely had to cut Alastor off at some point, knowing he could hold his alcohol scarily well, but he felt as if he should anyways.

🎙️Alastor spent hours at the speakeasy simply staring at you, watching you, completely enamored with your presence. Husk knew that look - that feeling - all too well, and though he was concerned for your well-being, getting in between Alastor and what he desired was a suicidal move.

🎙️ And soon, when Alastor finally accepted his feelings for you and chose to embrace them, all whilst entertaining the thought of you and him becoming an item, made these fantasies of his grow from insatiable to ravenous.

🎙️ Alastor was certain that he would be perfect for you as a husband. He would love you and dote upon you for the rest of your days, oh darling, you would want for absolutely nothing but him! And you'd be just too easy to catch, trusting little doe that you were.

🎙️ You'd be a perfect addition to the Altruist Family as his darling wife, and Alastor fixated on that particular thought the moment you walked out of your mother's kitchen holding two steaming bowls of jambalaya with an apron tied around your waist.

🎙️ Lord, why must you torment him, so?

🎙️ Truly, Alastor was much too wrapped up in his feelings for you to notice yours for him. But he was dangerously perceptive, and observant to a chilling degree, especially when it came to you.

🎙️So, as you could guess, it didn't take long until he began to notice the slight flush of your cheeks when he began to touch you all around your waist and shoulders - "An affectionate gesture between two old friends," as he'd reassure you - and how your eyes would light up around him, the way you seemed to glow just for Alastor.

🎙️He'd dance his fingertips around every inch of your body, adoring how you fit so beautifully in his hands. Once, when you had been dancing, Alastor allowed himself - and the alcohol - to loosen his lips, just a little bit. He couldn't help it; you were right where you belonged - in his arms - and your delectable scent had enveloped him. Alastor was a slave to your presence, and he was salivating every second.

🎙️ "The thought of you being with another man torments me, darling," he murmured gently against your ear, brushing his breath against your neck while his lips searched your hair. Alastor took a deep inhale, savoring every note of your scent.

🎙️ He could only dream of what you'd taste like.

🎙️ You grinned and allowed him to twirl you around, before you rested your thigh against his waist. "Don't torture yourself, Alastor," leaning closer, you allowed your lips to brush against his jaw, "That's my job."

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Ok, those were the headcanons! (they came a day late but STFU) I'm about to edit the one-shot tomorrow, so take these as an offering to satiate your imagination until I'm done conjuring up.

EDIT: I fucking can't with tumblr. I literally redid the ENTIRE TAGLIST and it just didn't work?? Help me out ya'll idk what to do

. . .

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma, @cassidywinters

Hi I really love the Altruist Family, I’m curious if they’re gonna have kids in hell 🥺

Ooooh I've actually had this idea brewing for a while!! Okay, I'm going to write some MORE headcanons on this while I write the oneshot

I'm so fucking excited I love the Altruist Family as much as you guys 🥰🥰

Don't worry I'll write both of the headcanon-oneshots(??), but whichever one wins will be posted first!

Don't Worry, Darling - Pregnancy Headcanons

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: Pregnancy, Human!Alastor, domestic fluff, possessiveness, territorial behavior, Alastor being creepily overbearing.

𝐀/𝐍: Shhh ik this is super late but idc ;) now catch these Alastor headcanons

🎙️ As soon as your belly begins to show, and the fact that you're pregnant is glaringly obvious to all around you, Alastor becomes extremely territorial, snapping and growling at any perceived danger around you and your unborn.

🎙️ Anything that you consume - yes, even your ungodly cravings - is prepared entirely by your darling Alastor himself, his own ravenous instincts seething at the thought of anybody else summoning the nerve to provide for you.

🎙️ In Alastor's mind, you didn't need anyone else but your capable, protective husband to shield and care for you, and anyone who dared snatch that privilege away from him would meet a truly hideous end.

🎙️ His shadow puppet is even worse, constantly monitoring and stalking you, thrumming with the primal instinct to protect his mate in your weakened state. Just the thought of somehow losing you to the heinous scum of the streets whilst Alastor wasn't looking was enough to send nearly every impulse in his being into pure, treacherous overdrive.

🎙️ The demand to have you within Alastor's sights at all times had completely consumed your husband, and now, there wasn't a moment that went by that he wasn't hovering over you, cooing over your helpless form and carrying you nearly everywhere, forbidding you to step

🎙️ Yes, Alastor regularly carried you, and clearly, his boundless strength was beyond your comprehension, since you couldn't even summon the strength to carry yourself, at times.

🎙️ And yet, he was always there, with a soft peck to your forehead, wrapping his strong arms around you to lift you up and carry you bridal-style around the house.

🎙️ "Oh, but you're already doing so much for me, ma chérie. I promise, you're lighter than a feather, darling."

🎙️Being without you for more than five minutes makes him incredibly anxious, whenever he’s away from his darling, vulnerable, extremely pregnant wife.

🎙️ Alastor's hair seems more abused than usual, he’s constantly fiddling and messing with his appearance, itching to get away from his trivial duties to return to your side. His smile seems to be more of a snarl, and his every nerve seems to always be standing on end. 

🎙️ Everyone down at the recording studio is terribly worried for the radio host, but the sinister glint that darkens his eyes is enough warning for anyone to stay away.

🎙️ But oh, when Alastor returns to his beautiful, positively glowing love, watching as your body slowly changes to accommodate his children, he completely melts against you whilst inhaling your delectable scent with complete rapture, and every knot in his body comes completely undone.

🎙️ To have you so deliciously vulnerable and at his mercy was a sight and experience meant only for Alastor, he was certain of it. Why else had Fate introduced you into his life, if not to have you romanced, bred, and pampered, all by his wicked hands? All under his insatiable, looming watch? 

🎙️ He just adores you, darling. Let him take care of you, let your strong, dependable husband to handle everything, and don’t even think about lifting a finger.

🎙️ Alastor makes a terrible habit of squeezing the squishy fat of your thighs, teething along your collarbone and neck whenever the marks of his devotion begin to fade over time.

🎙️ Craves to rest his head against your warm stomach after a long day of work, whispering sweet nothing to your fawns and pressing gentle kisses against your womb. The pure light in his eyes whenever your children kick against his large, rough hands whilst they caress your belly is an indescribable bliss.

🎙️ As much as Alastor wishes for this domestic heaven to last forever, your due date creeps closer with each day, and he knows he won't be able to handle being separated from you when you're bound to be in so much unbearable pain...

🎙️ But all he could do until then was squeeze your hand whilst gently kissing your stomach, feeling the twins kicking their soft feet against you as if in response. All Alastor could do was make gentle, whispered promises against your skin while you slept, swearing to stay beside you as your loyal, devoted husband, forevermore.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp

@maggotzdilemma, @cassidywinters, @nonbinaryanarchist0013, @martinys-world, @introvertreader20

Headcanon Requests Are Open ❤️🎙️

I'm taking a step back from posting on A03 for a week (which I did consistently for 3 weeks - I have NO idea where I found the strength 😭) and so I'm taking requests for headcanons!!

Fluff, smut, angst, whatever you have in mind, I'll be working on them today and for the rest of next week <3

Also, I'm getting to posting the other headcanons of Soul!Owner Alastor x Reader that I promised, I've just been feeling very drained and this is my way of getting my creative juices flowing again.