featuring ୨ৎ Plague Doctor!Tom x Fem!Ignorant!Reader, 18+ Content MDNI
summary ୨ৎ As Dr. Riddle's ill patient, it was an obligation to stay by his side; even joining him on medical trips to other villages. What happens when your illness surfaces during the middle of your trip? Whatever shall you do now? Don't you worry that cute little head, your master has the remedy with him at all times...
word count ୨ৎ 4.2k
themes ୨ৎ story is set in the 17th century (1601–1700), reader is wearing a pantalette (an open crotch pant), reader and tom are above the age of 18, reader is ignorant and oblivious to the meaning of sexual desires and its effects to the body, fem!reader, manipulator!tom, ignorant!reader, corruption kink, cum eating, oral (male receiving), piv, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cumming in mouth, master kink, standing sex, sex initiated in the woods, deceiving reader into believing that the act of inserting himself inside her and swallowing his cum will cure her 'disease', choking, throat fucking, pet names
event masterlist. kinktober 25`
Clop-clop, clop-clop…
A single horse carried a wooden cart filled with cloth covered barrels. You were sat at the coachman's seat right beside your master, Dr. Tom Riddle. Well, master wasn’t the right word; you weren’t his assistant nor were you a slave of any kind. You were simply his patient, one that required to be by his side at all times in order to receive your medication.
Without him, you wouldn’t know what to do, you had no where else to get treatment—and it was strictly forbidden to tell anyone in the village about your condition, otherwise they could possibly banish you from the town; you weren’t quite sure why they would go to such lengths, however, Dr. Riddle assured you that the townspeople would not take your illness kindly.
So, for the sake of your health and family, you had always ran to the doctor for healing; he never failed to do so each time, the everlasting pains would disappear right after his almost daily treatments. Which is why it was from your unwavering loyalty did you decide to refer to him as your master; no other human being within the country could ever heal you back to a hale and hearty physique quite like the doctor could.
Dr. Riddle was a man of few words, he only spoke when it was necessary, and when he uttered the occasional interjection, it was only the truth, whether it hurt the other party’s pride or not. And his appearance certainly wasn’t the most gentle. From the knee-high boots that clad his ankles to his broad shoulders, everything was covered by the long midnight hued coat he adorned whenever he was in the presence of other beings. And his face was always concealed with that awfully long crow-like mask, never have you even set sight on the skin of his chin.
However, let it be known that his odor was rather pleasant, a fragrance that whiffed across your nose whenever you were beside him, one that held contrast to the current surrounding smell of urinated puddles from horses of standby wagons. It was thanks to the bundles of lavender, mint and many other herbs that were confined within his beak—he once told you that these plants would protect him from disease and harm. And so this smell could only remind you of Dr. Riddle; out of the many men that you knew from your village, the doctor was the only one who possessed the most agreeable scent.
After sometime you even began to associate Dr. Riddle to that as noble as a saint. He gave his time to the ill without payment of any sort, but the townspeople never left him empty handed, they were always so eager to compensate him for his generous aids to the town.
He was a very patient man and you admired him for it; even as you stare at the cold metal of his beak, your gaze held the same adoration to that of a hero.
One would claim you to be obsessed, too loyal to a man that many knew nothing of; your parents warned you to keep your distance from the beaked doctor; after all, he appeared suddenly when a short epidemic broke out within a nearby hamlet.
Days later, word spread faster than any plague, everyone and their mother knew of the doctor with a beak, the healer that was akin to a priest; despite not being a true doctor many townsfolk had begun to see him as one, calling upon him when they acquired even a breathe of illness.
You adored him, you would follow Dr. Riddle everywhere even if you were void of any sort of disease; it was then when you awoke from your trance of thought when said admired doctor cleared his throat. “Where has your mind gone, young miss?”
A sharp inhale struck your lungs like a winter’s day—if there was one thing you could never get adjusted to, it was the low hum of his voice that chilled down your spine, a weird feeling that came to you whenever he woke you from your befuddled thoughts.
Despite his intimidating appearance, you were never afraid of him, but that is what confused you; if you weren’t scared of the doctor, why did your knees buckle when he approached closer, only an inch dividing the two of you. Why did your heart escalate when he only asked about your well-being, the vibrations of his voice echoing in the drums of your ears.
It was during these moments that your illness surfaced, tingles in the organ between your thighs; and now, every jump of the wagon hitting potholes in the unpaved dirt road added to the pressure you felt, legs pressed together as you answered the doctor with a strained smile, “forgive me, Master Riddle. I had simply thought about how kind the farmer was to supply us with these many herbal medicines,” gesturing towards the several cloth covered barrels filled with a collection of both fresh and dried greenery.
The aching inside you began to increase, the sound of a thoughtful hum filled your hearing, was he saying something else? You could barely tell from the dull throbbing distracting your mind; you couldn’t mention what was happening to you at this very moment, there was obviously no treatment room within sight, and it would be selfish to burden the doctor’s thoughts of the constant change in your condition.
How foolish of you to think he doesn’t already know of your current predicament, the shift in your position, the unsteadiness of your legs as they fidgeted under your beige gown, it was all noticeable signs that Tom could decipher within a matter of seconds.
He knew of your consideration to others, always putting yourself behind in order to avoid delaying his tasks; yet he had told you repeatedly to inform him when the “tingles and aches” began, so he could cure you for the day.
But for the moment, it was enjoyable to watch you squirm under his gaze, ass swaying uncomfortably on the hard wooden seat, hands pressed in a grip as your knuckles turned white; he’d leave you in your pitiful state, just for awhile longer, until you cried for his help. Begged for it in that sweet euphonious voice, whining for his healing touch to cease the pain within you.
What felt like hours on the rickety road in endless suffering was only twenty-five minutes, you hoped to wait until your next destination, however you could feel your condition worsen as each second passed, and you worried how bad it may get by the time you finally arrived.
You tugged at the elbow of your dear master’s coat till he finally faced you, staring at your soft features, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and air lingering in your chest, you were unable to look him directly in the eyes of his mask. “Master Riddle…” Squeaking his name in such an alluring voice, while your left hand gripped onto the cloth of your wrinkled skirt.
“What is it, my dear?” His concerned words had you feeling guilty for voicing your worries, how could you add more work on his shoulders, especially when he was expected to tirelessly heal the elderly and young at the next village.
Before you could spiral into more guilt ridden thoughts, the wagon began to slow down, the doctor had pulled the horse to a halt, his attention now centered on you.
“What is wrong, are you hurt?” His voice laced with absolute worry, but behind that dark honeyed voice was a man with sadistic desires, scanning your features under his mask, sight lingering at the way those gorgeous breasts grew in every inhale.
You shook your head, “I am sorry, Master… The pain has begun once again and it is unbearable!” Dear god, how he loved it when you called him that… He simply clasped your little finger tips that pinched his coat in large leather covered hand, “you’re experiencing the same pains once again, hm?” One hand slipped under the skirt of your dress, sliding over the pantalette as he tantalized your pudgy wet folds through the open crotch. “Hurts right here, does it?”
Oh, how innocent you were, gasping for air the moment, rough materials of his digits stroked the sensitive skin, eyes rolling to the back, your usual gentle touch was replaced with a trembling grip on his wrist, you could barely manage a nod to his question.
“Oh, my dear… You must have been suffering for quite some time,” his sugarcoated words pitied your situation, but what was he if not a kind doctor, “we mustn’t dawdle, you should undergo treatment right away.”
“But, Dr. Riddle-!” your sweet soul couldn’t begin to finish your protests when a single large leathery finger entered your succulent heat, mouth agape, moans choked at your throat as you hid your face in his cloak; little whimpers of his title dripping from your lips.
“There is cover in the forests, we may treat you there,” low whispers that granted you the mercy of his healing, shouldn’t you be grateful and accept his generous offer? It would be rude to deny his kindness, so you simply nodded weakly from your place beside him. You felt empty the moment he retracted his finger from the muscle, the underlying pains still persisting, but he wouldn’t leave you suffering for long.
In a single swift lift of his arms, he picked you up from your seat and stepped down from the cart. Carrying you with ease to a tree that was right beside the road—wait, was he planning to treat you right there?! It was practically in the open, the tree was just large enough to cover the span of his silhouette, if someone were curious enough, they could view the entire spectacle of Dr. Riddle’s medical procedure!
You hadn’t the time to ask the doctor to reconsider, when he set you next to the trunk. Without a second to waste, the waves of your skirt were strategically pushed to the top of your waist, your plain wool pantalette was now revealed to the chill wind of the forests. Quickly getting hold of the cloth and held them well to prevent it from getting in the way of the doctor’s process.
Anxiously waiting for the moment to come as he undid the decorated metal belt around his trousers, slipping his length out of the confinement of his undergarments; oh how it wasn’t incredibly long, but what it lacked in length, came through in width, the thickness of his cock was dressed with many veins along his girth; the stretch was painful in the beginning of every session, but you recently began to get accustomed to him.
You must have gotten lost thought as you gawked at his size, because your thoughts were stirred when he relieved a breathy chuckle to your dazed expression. “My dear, what thoughts might be plaguing you at this very moment?” the aches within you worsened at every vibration of his voice, the metal of his beak chilling your neck as your breasts heaved with each breathe.
The bare mushroom head of his length met the skin under your belly as his entire body towered over you like a dark shadow. Suddenly, gloved hands lifted your right knee to allow him access to your sore waiting entrance.
This position was rather new to you, during any treatment with Dr. Tom, he would lay you on the comforts of a bed and begin the process, however you didn’t know what to do in this situation; as you overfilled your little head with questions, Tom had lifted your entire body above the ground; and in an alarmed instinct you wrapped your legs around his waist to regain hold in this sudden change in posture, meanwhile your delicate palms rested at his shoulders.
“Oh my-!” you exclaimed quite loudly for the woods to hear.
“You must be quiet. Do you understand, little mouse? It is not right for a man within my profession to perform a medical procedure in the open.” He had to make it clear that this wasn’t appropriate, medical treatment inside the woods? It was uncalled for. So you would be an understanding patient and keep your sex-filled moans to a minimum while he abuses the walls of your delicious cunt.
Before you could reassure the doctor that you would keep your voice down, he entered the warmness inside you with precision, you were already dressed with so much arousal, immediately sucking him in at first contact. The stretching pains of his thick girth was there as always, your head flew back on the wooden support behind you, fighting every urge to release the threatening noises within your chest, lips bitten shut as he intruded your heat.
Plush thighs now adorned with pierced red marks as his veins caressed the sponge of your delectable pussy. In and out at a practiced motion, the sounds of squelches and skin slapping fouled the beauty of the forest, a vulgar act being conducted under the veil of nature.
Every thrust sent vibrations through your body, hair bun and blushing bosom bounced with each impact. Soft walls clenched around him as shining tears pricked at your lashes, staining your red apple cheeks. Darling you, unaware of his corruption to your innocence, your body entirely his as he turned you into his pet. At every plap, a guttural moan fell to your ears, cock drilling into his favourite toy as it tried to milk him dry.
Yet you don’t even know, oh dear god, how you felt guilty for putting your master in discomfort, the sounds of his pain echoing through your body, however, you felt almost pleased to hear him sound so human, so natural, like he too could feel emotions and pain. It was only during your treatment did you hear a voice that wasn’t monotone or quiet judgment, he was loud and full of emotion, he shook every part of you, releasing noises from deep within his chest.
His moans clouded your mind when Dr. Riddle surprised you with a sudden slam of his hips. Tip of his cock kissing your core, pounding into you at dizzying speeds; pulling out completely only to shut your hole full to the hilt. The sudden pace had waves of pleasure surge all over you, nails piercing his shoulders, sensual noises spilling into his ears as you could no longer bite back the wanton moans that screamed from you, lips now leaking blood from the abuse of your teeth. “Aaaah! ‘s too much!” “Doctor! Doctor, pleaaase!” Everything moved all at once, your vision, strange sensations coursing through your body, saliva dripping down your chin, and the large extension of his body protruding into you every half a second, it was all too much. “It was you who—plap—begged to be fixed—plap—you will take it without complaint.”
It enraged his cock with excitement, fucking you senseless under the eyes of nature, thoughts of someone catching the both of you in this disgraceful act infested his mind. He’d love nothing more than for word to spread all over many towns of how you were the doctors favourite slut, his personal scarlet woman. You would have no other choice to find refuge within his abode, all to him, nowhere else to escape.
Blinded by pleasure and the believed innocence of this act, unassuming of his intentions or perverted mind, you cried into his shoulders, your folds met his pubic hair with every smack, not for a moment did his rhythm halt or even slow; your vision blurred, thoughts scrambled as a weird pooling feeling overfilled the pit of your stomach, you became familiar with this strange sensation only after you met the doctor, according to him it meant you were very close to being cured for the day, and in just some time you would feel much better than before.
Your breathes grew irregular as you hid yourself in the crook of his neck, body jolting with each thrust, Tom pressed you against the tree to establish a better hold, his bulbous head aiming at your cervix each and every time, you could feel a knot inside you tightening by the second, and it did no better than to increase the volume of your screams, crying into the neck of his coat, drool dripping from your tongue, wetting the cloth at every noise.
“You love it, do you not? Won’t you—nghh!—thank your master for relieving you of your illness?” he filthed your mouth with words you hadn’t even uttered, but to his bidding you cried and whined the exact phrases he craved to hear.
“Aaaaah-hh, love it! I-I love it ‘sho much, ma-master!- Aaaaah!” Thrusts breaking your sentences into lust-full moans, “thank you! thank you—ah!—thank you!” chanting your gratitude for him over and over again, till you could no longer feel the voice within your pipe.
A few more impales filled your abused pussy and broke the knot inside you, a wave of ecstasy vibrated as your orgasm crashed over you in an instant, screams rising from your tortured vocals.
Your wondrous cream surrounded his cock in warmth, he pulled in and out of you to gaze at the stretch of your release, it was divine, it was delectable, he wanted to devour you whole, keep you away from all prying eyes, no man… No. No human should see you, an angel, unfold under them—it was for the eyes of your master only.
After coming down from your immense relief of pleasure, your body leaned limp, head laying at his shoulders, eyes unable to peep open. Despite the desire to sleep on your master’s comforting physique, he had to interrupt your peace.
“It isn’t the time for bed just yet, darling…” “You have yet to take your medicine.” Reminding you that it wasn’t over until you took your daily dosage. Of course, how could you forget—your master hasn’t released your precious cure yet.
He set your bare feet to the earth—slippers discarded somewhere on the dirtied ground—your body could barely carry itself, holding yourself steady by his coat. Small whines coming from below him as the droplets of your previous reaction glistened down your thighs.
"On your knees, my dear..." Breath shuddering at the loss of contact from your glossy pussy, only a minute from you, yet his cock still aching, twitching at the chill of natures breeze. "You mustn't let your medicine go to waste."
A few breathes in, you regained some energy, your head tilted towards his mask and weakly nodded a thank you for his kindness.
Finally, after the impatient waiting of his aroused soaked cock, your knees met the ground, skirt dirtying of mud and twigs.
The heat of your exhale touched his sensitive tip, shuddering at every sensation. His palm found place at the crown of your head, leading your luscious lips to him, wet eyes batting at him when you kissed the tip. You weren’t aware of how lewd your actions were, meeting his bare skin with your lips, knees to the floor, like it was a normal ritual, simply staring at him as a question to move forward with the process, allowing you to engulf him whole in your hot slimy mouth.
Unknowing of the truth behind your actions, petite hands wrapped around his base, just as you were instructed in the past, nice slow strokes of your palm while taking the rest of what you could past your red plump lips.
Languid licks from the roughness of your wet tongue brushed across his fat tip, the flavor of salty bitter precum staining your taste buds. In the beginning, you cringed at the taste of your medication, but dose after dose, you relished in the tang of his white stringy liquid, even chasing it the moment he leaked inside your mouth.
Cheek hallowing at every suck to his slit, your wet hot muscle circling around the throbbing veins. Bobbing your head to take in more of him down your throat—you only followed your master’s orders, completing each step to prepare his organ, so it releases the remedy for your illness. This was all part of the process, you knew that like the pretty little lamb you were; never questioning your master’s instructions, choking on his fat cock because it was good for you. Large amounts of saliva collecting under your tongue, stretching down his length, glistening around the redness.
“Haah… Good-good girl- you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” Rutting into your wet hole, digging his head deeper into your throat. With the inability to speak with a full mouth, your words were rendered to wet muffled noises as you gagged, his cock pushing well past the back of your tongue. Your mouth felt so good, so hot, fuck he was obsessed. Addicted to you. He needs more. And more. And-
The alarming sounds of another wagon could be heard from not too far from where Tom stood. In a haste, he shoved your body to the wall of the tree, mouth still stuffed with him. He pushed himself deeper inside, you began to choke, nails piercing his thighs, attempting to breathe from your nose, filling your lungs with the scent of spit and moss.
“Shhh… Stay quiet.” Sharply warning you from making any noise, otherwise outsiders could catch you in the act.
Strings of your bun snatched onto the crevices of the tree trunk behind, chubby tears spreading down your face as the aching in your jaw increased from holding him inside for so long, the meat of his dick hitting the back of your mouth.
Constantly patting his thighs, begging him to release you from this position, but he saw this as an opportunity, just as the wagon was in his line of sight, he demanded that you continue, “hurry along, my dear, we’ve wasted enough time as is.”
You were choking on his length, there wasn’t more you could do. You were practically useless at that point, unable to even swallow the globs of spit that spilled onto his skin, dripping to the floor.
Several horse shoes clapping against the dirt road became louder as it drew near, but the hand in your hair told you to hurry.
Muscles contracting whilst your tongue swirled around his impatient cock. Deep moans from above you vibrated all the way to the ground, he began pistoning into your sore mouth, a grip of hair keeping you in place as he fucked into his favourite cum-dump. The men passing by were no matter, they could barely hear the deeds happening in the woods due to the obnoxiously loud conversations they were having, however Tom enjoyed putting you in this situation, gives him all the more reason to keep your little lips shut and compliant.
Each thrust smacking the back of your aching esophagus, trying to breathe from your nostrils as fat tears streamed down your face, gagging on his size. “God… You will swallow all of it, do you understand me? Fuck—fuck! Better drink all of what I bloody give you.”
Few jerks later, spurts and ropes of his seed painted the walls of your muscular tube, massive volumes of salty bitter cum released inside you, flowing down as your frantically attempted to swallow it.
Finally released from his hold, your chest heaved raggedly, desperate pants, lungs burning from long emptiness. Harsh coughs scratched your throat, trying to regain air as you wheezed to the ground.
The sounds of clinks and buttoning from above prompted you to cease your exaggerated act, “If you are finished, we must be moving along now.” Long swift strides sauntered past you, as though the other had not been genuinely choking on the remnants of saliva and her remedy. Alas, it was your fault to begin with, making the poor sir stop to fix you to be as right as rain, his reaction was only natural.
You quite hurriedly stood from your place to run bare-footed after Dr. Riddle, shortness of breath still evident, however you could not leave him waiting, already wasting far too much of his precious time. “Forgive me–hah!—Dr. Riddle! I am here!”
He so generously lent you a hand, steadying your frame while you climbed to the seat. The man you held so dear found place right beside you, taking hold of the reins in the same hands that bared your entire weight, still lightly dampened from previous activities.
In spite of the choking matter—one that you thought nothing of—a rush of giddiness took over you, how your master would aid you even during the most unconventional moments. Perhaps he cared for you like no other patient, after all, you had never seen him go out of his way to treat one outside the roof of their own home.
Oh, my dear… you were blinded by innocence and ignorance; unsuspecting of the man to your right. How you could not realize the way he had manipulated your mind, instilling a belief that you were destined to be at his side; that your cure was within him, and to exploit said illness in your core, one had to invade the insides of your body, to stretch it whole with the hardened length at his disposal—but of course only with your master’s body could you be healed, it could only be him, always him.
ari's voice mail ୨ৎ I spent a loooot of time working on thiss one. This AU will be an official one in my character au list! This was an idea i had for so long and with kinktober being here, it felt like the best time to introduce him. I hope you enjoyed it!
Skull-Web Divider by @viperify
The divider used here is recoloured.
Original colours are cherry red (webs/spider), bone white (skulls), and black (bats).
welcome to my little corner of the internet where I spiral daily over my current obsession: the slytherin boy specifically? tom riddle. And just to be very clear: this is the fictional son of voldemort, not the noseless menace himself.
Will update when i can ....
━━━HUSBAND!TOM RIDDLE MASTERLIST
⭑ my masterlist of fics dedicated entirely to husband!tom riddle because that’s my favorite genre of him and I have no shame...
━━━RIDDLE FAMILY MASTERLIST
⭑ my masterlist full of fics about the adorably chaotic riddle family featuring: Tom riddle, Y/N, and their equally dramatic children Mattheo, Delphini, Marvolo and the twins..
━━━FRIEND!TOM / BEFORE THE RELATIONSHIP MASTERLIST
⭑ a masterlist full of pre-relationship tension, longing glances, and dangerously soft moments—featuring tom riddle and y/n before the chaos.
━━━BOYFRIEND!TOM MASTERLIST
⭑ a masterlist full of boyfriend!tom riddle energy — these fics explore what it’s like to date someone like tom aka: he loves you, but it’s possessive, obsessive, and probably dangerous.
━━━FIANCE!TOM MASTERLIST / ARRANGE MARRIAGE FICS
⭑ a masterlist dedicated to fiancé!tom riddle — featuring fics where tom and y/n are engaged (whether by choice or arrangement) etc..
━━━EX!BOYFRIEND! TOM MASTERLIST
⭑ a masterlist full of ex!tom riddle energy — where the past never really stays in the past. these fics explore the aftermath of loving someone like tom aka: they broke up but the feelings didn’t.
━━━ DARK! TOM MASTERLIST
⭑ a masterlist full of dark tom riddle energy — where love is twisted, obsession runs deep, and power always comes at a price. these fics explore what it means to be wanted by someone like tom aka: it was never really love… but it was never really over either.
Alastor: I was sent to d̶̢͈̖̫̳̘͎̤̫͉̲̺̉̄͆͋̈́̃͘͜ͅë̶̡̢̖͔̰̠̲͍͍͈͉͙̰̺́̐̽͊́̆̆͂͑͜s̷͚̮̮̊̉͊́̀̎̅̇͘͜t̵̢̻̼̓̀̏̽̂̚ŗ̴̡̖͔̟̳̻̑̀͛͂̈̓̀̃͊̽̀̔̃͝͝o̶͈̩̼͕̫̩̔̿̒̒̌̾̋́̀̽̔̊̓͝y̴̨̢͚͈͕̜̞͔̻̟͗͊̿̈́ͅ you
Angel Dust: Eh that works too
I'm so sorry for not posting updated chapters and whatnot everybody. I was going through depression and still is, I just find it hard to be productive and creative in my life rn and I hope you'll understand. I am still depressed but I'll find time to post dw
CW: mentions of crime, demon ritual summoning but we don't mind since it's Rosie 💋, Reader is now aware of Alastor's actions, Reader is an angel even before the wings and dying, Reader got amnesia, Alastor is going to yearn i think.
A/N: This is based on the request made by someone anonymous. you can check it out here in part 1 : 👇
Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5 I
Pairings: Alastor X Angel!Fem Reader
Word Count: 1.080k
Notes: At the end
Part 3
“Soooo, you want to help us in managing the hotel?” Charlie inquired, wanting to make sure she’s not wrong to defend Alastor against Vaggie’s advances, trying to convince her the Radio Demon is BAD. NEWS.
“Yes, my dear. I find it entertaining. You see, I fancy watching tortured souls struggle to find something meaningful that could add worth to their already wretched lives and fail spectacularly. It’s my entertainment!” Alastor quipped, already scanning his eyes through rusted floorboards and torn wallpapers.
“But you still won’t cooperate in terms of us trying to seek a path of redemption for these sinners?” Charlie raised a brow, already knowing how this will end.
“Yes. Hah! Redemption. Such a silly thing,” Alastor replied back, already conjuring multiple things out of thin air as to manage and redecorate the place to its supposed glory.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
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“Annndddd that’s basically how the whole thing went with Alastor. The first time he appeared, we weren’t even sure what he needed from us, but well, I guesssssss Overlords get bored too,” Vaggie leaned down in her stool as she took a sip of orujo, already wasted with her slurry words. She didn’t recall how she managed to spill out the entirety of the truth behind Alastor’s appearance at the hotel, down to the way she writes love songs for Charlie.
Mimzy, after a much-needed persuasion, managed to land herself inside Husk’s bar. She also got herself a nice lad with big bucks that somehow has no interconnections with any shady businesses or the mafia. Angel and Cherry are just busy trying to figure out a way to carry Vaggie up those expanse of stairs, as Emily sat in her chair, looking baffled and amazed, seeing her alcohol-free cocktail change colors upon stirring.
Charlie was glad everybody was healing and somehow okay after what happened in the past few days. After the initial threat, as Vox was almost close to succeeding in his plans, and the downfall that occurred after. No news of the Vees were heard across the Pentagram, and people were dying to know what’ll happen next and if this will earn them a new extended visit upon the arrival of the next extermination. Life kept going in Hell, as more and more people decided to join Charlie’s cause and build a sanctuary for all.
Charlie glanced toward Alastor, seeing him busy himself with Niffty as they conversed. Alastor always kept his interactions with them at arm’s length, never wanting to reveal more but also wanting to know more. He prefers information coming to him rather than sacrifice secrecy just to gain one.
As Niffty went to clean already neat and polished floors, Alastor was left on his own, but that’s the way he likes it. During this time, he recalls memories long-deep stored in his cerebellum that somehow didn’t wither during his fall. He knows it’ll keep him, but what other way can he remember you again?
Alastor didn’t know what befell him the moment he arrived in front of Rosie’s Emporium. He managed to stroll his way in Cannibal Town, seeking residence and solitude to the ever-growing noise that shuffled across the streets of Hell. God, he wished he could just silence every other wretched—
“Alastor!! Sweetie, what a surprise! I didn’t think I’d get so soon!!” Rosie sang as she walked toward his direction with a series of laughter.
Alastor knew the moment she addressed him that this was Rosie, the demon he sold his soul to. He just didn’t expect her to laugh and rejoice in the way the irony stung with how swift and fast the whole ordeal was. I mean, what do you mean you planned to exist in Hell as a powerful being the moment you die, and then being met with the same fate just minutes and hours after you sealed your soul away, only to die in the hands of an idiot who couldn’t afford glasses?
Their encounter ended with him having a temporary room inside her residence, as Alastor promised himself he’d work his way up in Hell’s ever-famous hierarchy. And he did.
The name Radio Demon was etched into every dying sinner and Overlord that would dare cross his way and earn themselves a place in his broadcasts. He showed them power not any new sinner could gain through any means of bargaining. He became a novelty to Hell and the subject of rumors and fear to everyone.
He successfully climbed his way into the top as he earned his rightful place as an Overlord in Hell, along with many others as well. But he didn’t reveal to anyone why he suddenly stopped terrorizing the streets and went on a 7-year hiatus.
Alastor strolled his way into his own room as the glow of the open bayou and fireflies provided him small solace in a place full of damnation. He recollected the way that his power trembled in the midst of ending a sinner. The way every time he conjures something, it’ll glitch beforehand. Or the way none of his tentacles would sprung out at all, like the ground wouldn’t obey his power and chose to deny him the satisfaction of carnage and wrath.
It’s like his staff was limiting him the amount of power he wanted to hurl. Like a curse was somehow weighting down his advances and techniques to deliver any forceful blow towards anyone. He relives the way he went mad, blaming Rosie, himself, anyone for what is happening to him and his powers. He knows Vincent, or rather Vox now, had no part in it. He was a new force in Hell, just a starting role.
He destroyed everything he could lay eyes on, went mad and insane trying to figure out how to fix himself and his power. He remembered your encouraging words, the way you would place yourself between him and his anger. Always there to comfort, to heal, and to silence the voices threatening to plague his mind.
Alastor only then noticed the tear that cascaded down his eye as the droplet graced a small pond with its soft ripple. He realized it was whispering, drowning, wondering if you received the dream he sent you, the promises he’d keep forever. Romanticizing the chaos that ruined him, yet held him down.
With every day feeling like a slice, thoughts are scrabbled, not in order. The pages became his companion, the books he arranged are all in union, followed by a swift invasion of you. He was bounded in a cage in which freedom is forbidden.
He desires violently—and he waits.
A/N: Shoot! Forgot to post this y'all😭. Will upload Part 4 and 5 since I decided this deserve a full on plot bcs y not? I have freedom unlike Eren. Also apologies for the delay reality is weighting down on us always but lately it's been targeting me fr. Requests are still open and pls feel free to message me for any of your concerns or thoughts or just casually get to know me! You may ask me questions through my inbox😉. Also bear in mind it may take me long to upload chapters and requests, if you don't have the patience I'm sorry 😔.
✨A little trivia✨😉: Some of the words here are lines from my very own poems!! Different pieces from different stanzas and subjects!! Can you guess which are they???
Hiiii OwO, first of all, how are you?🌷
Can I ask a little bit about Alastor being a yandere when he first meets the reader, and how he gradually became a yandere because of the reader, and since she's his first love, would he be bad at it? If the reader were careless and innocent (like, very kind to people and always giving second chances) and got hurt unintentionally because of her carelessness, maybe the reader could be a sweet angel.
Hello! Thank you so much for asking how I am – I'm doing fine, I guess. Just the usual; school is draining me over and over again, so I couldn't help but feel bad about not posting updated chapters in my stories. 🥹 I like the idea of Alastor's personality gradually shifting, with his behavior going from normal to yandere. Let's do it! I'll give one scenario to make it more appealing. I hope you like this!✨🥀
Yandere Alastor Headcanons and Scenario
Scenario :
You were part of the angels under Sera's jurisdiction. She provided you with the task to accompany Emily on her weekly visits to the Hazbin Hotel, to act as her guardian – rather than a stern reminder of Sera's protective nature in the form of a bodyguard. No; she gave you the freedom to act as you will for the first time, but was careful to warn you of the consequences.
You always followed the rules as mandated. As Emily's friend and close colleague, she trusted you with everything she needed and said – may it be small favors, or something that would probably put you both in timeout, just like last time.
As the portal to Hell opened, you descended. Emily rushed over to Charlie in an embrace, and Charlie chuckled as she accepted it in return. Emily made it a point to introduce you both to each other, so you could get acquainted and familiar. The rest of the residents were surprisingly good as well. No signs of drugs, cigarettes, or that obviously evident object you swear you never want to see in your afterlife – the one that takes form in silicone and pink. Thankfully, the moment it almost met your eye (because a random stranger decided it was best to throw it across the lobby), Vaggie disposed of it, leaving no trace of... whatever that was.
As you came to meet Alastor, he didn’t seem to find you particularly interesting – rather, he looked at you as if you were dull. But behind that impassive facade, his thoughts were swimming with undeniable, suppressed restraint; he couldn’t help but gawk at you from behind his crimson pupils. His irises traveled from one body part to another with the usual gaze of a predator studying its prey. You grew oblivious to his stares the more Emily dragged you along to sing and go on their merry way, entertaining more guests and promoting the hotel to their benefit.
As Abel had said weeks ago, it may take time for you to get used to the environment in Hell. You found it appalling that sinners constantly eradicate each other, whether to prove superiority or settle a grudge. Still, you enjoyed their company – especially Alastor’s. When you came to him in need of assistance, he was happy to provide it. More than happy, actually.
He was ecstatic. In all his years of breathing static, he never expected to fall for someone so divine. It didn’t add up: he was bad, a force to be reckoned with, a bad omen to some. He denied it at first, hating himself for ever letting his black hole of a heart consume something as fragile and “irrelevant” as feelings – and the ever-growing fixation on you. It didn’t make sense.
Sure, he had met a few women before, all interested in him in ways that made them gladly throw themselves in his path just to get even a sliver of his reaction or attention. He didn’t like it – not one single bit. So to know you were oblivious to his obsession was entrancing, like a gorgeous puzzle mid-solve, just waiting to reveal its full picture of you. And he did solve it.
The moment your bond was forged under bloodlit skies was the first time you ever felt needed for more than just your purpose. Alastor made it clear he wanted you – after a much-needed self-reflection session in his room, where he’d concentrated and finally admitted to himself that these feelings were real and wouldn’t go away. His shadow was the final straw: it deliberately made you follow it, just to show you how people are actually more cruel than they seem, and purposely led you into danger to mess with its master.
He arrived at the scene and made you bear witness to his power – a force that transcended mere skill and potential. It was raw and real, and you saw it with your own eyes. No fatal wounds threatened your life, but once he was done, he came to you like a panicked animal. Desperate to keep what he cherished safe, he was trembling with no audience to watch as he grew vulnerable at the thought of losing you.
That situation gave shape to what your relationship is right now. When news of your relationship reached Sera, she didn’t disagree or try to convince you to set boundaries between yourself and the demon – you both knew damn well Alastor would do anything to avoid being denied of you. He was possessive throughout the course of your relationship, and that fact alone is made obvious and true every. Single. Day.
Headcanons:
I'd like to imagine he'd do what it takes just to keep you out of Lucifer's sight and direction.
Speaking of yandere, he tries to win you over as to how he was thought by his mother when he was alive but it gradually shifts into something possessive obsessive.
What I mean is when he tries to limit your interactions with the former angel and casually slips in to interrupt conservations just to get small bits of your time. Whether may it be Emily, hotel residents or even to sinners.
It suffocates you to the extent where you argued with him about it and he agreed to let you do what you want as long it's safe.
Telling you he's worried only for your safety.
He doesn't deny you your freedom at first but as time passes he grew to know he only wants you to spend time with him and him only.
He showers you with affections of course. Before and even after growing his yandere behavior that slowly creeps you out and tickles a gnawing feeling on you.
As the relationship progresses, you find yourself liking the idea of him claiming you as his own. Many don't get to see sides of Alastor behind closed doors, and for you to be granted such access made you feel special.
He never made it known to you that you were fragile for just the fact you're an angel and was very kind to everyone, giving second chances and very forgiving.
You can feel his love slowly becoming devotional to full on worship ✨
He craves you. I repeat!!!. He desperately craves you.
And I don't mean it in a cannibalistic way, though he doesn't mind devouring your-
His fixation will grow and grow and grow until it borders on danger.
And to be honest? You don't mind at all!!
(At least for me I don't 😌)
Who doesn't love a guy who doesn't cheat at all and vows to be bound to you?
But realistically speaking, that behavior may evolve into something more destructive rather than protective or something that just borders on obsession
No
Yandere behaviour is not for the weak at all.
The moment it restricts your freedom, time, and overall morals as a person?
It can make you question your self and how lucky you are to still have conscience and a sane mind to keep you alive.
Alastor doesn't like. He loves. Deep. Like an ocean. Thick like blood. And raw as carnage.
As I mentioned, he wants your safety guaranteed at all times right?
Well as the obsession grows and grows, he'll gaslight you now.
He's a sadist. That's why
He may act like a masochist to a point but he'll never let you go.
Ever.
Being with Alastor would feel like freedom but obviously knowing a chain connects you to him
And sometimes....
It feels like that chain....
Keeps...
Getting...
More and more....
Tight and close.....
But overall that's just my opinion y'all
Feel free to criticize 🥹✨🙏🏻
Yandere Alastor would be canon if ever his character was structured and was planned to have a partner in the show but it would disrupt the beef going on between him and Vox.
As to the question if he'll be bad at it...... I don't know actually 😭. After making this I realized I didn't really answer your question but to be honest a part of me thinks that yes. He'll be bad at it at first but gradually sharpens himself as to prove fit for you and to be the man you'll only need.
Vincent: I stole 40 shark plushies. In my defense, they should've been on sale!!
Niffty: I lit someone on fire =)
Baxter: Illegal Drug Manufacturing and Tech Fraud.
Valentino: Being too hot~~
Pentious: Illegal Weapons Development.....but err Arson too I guess.
Charlie: Criminal Damaging and Endangerment. But I swear I only wanted to help!!
Lucifer: Trespassing? Okay fine it was.....Sabotage.
Mammon: Plagiarism.
Blitzø: Here. Read the fucking list.
Stolas: Oh! Oh my! I guess erm...... Lèse-Majesté, Violation of Royal Protocol and Treason. But I must say Blitzy this feels rather new, I'm not used to being chained.....at least not behind bars~~~ Either way this is new. Andre deserved it anyways.
