Burnt (part 3)
Part 1 Part 2
Something is tainting your memories, so you turn to your knives as a distraction.
Tags: Blitzø x female reader, Alastor x female reader, a little bit of smut, but also lots of plot, oral (female-receiving), slight bdsm, slight non-con if you squint but also not, daddy kink because Blitzø, this is just a teaser for the smut to come, there will be smut, and it will be kinky as hell, implied drug addiction
wc: 4,158
Ugh, sorry it's been so long! I've been so busy that I haven't had as much time to write. And honestly, this chapter was a lot harder for me to write. Probably because it was all from scratch. Rough drafts for the first two chapters and several later chapters were written months ago. But I wanted to add this in. Don't worry! My goal is to not have as long of a gap between chapters from now on. I already have a rough draft for a decent chunk of the fourth chapter as well as several future ones written out. Enough of my groveling, let's get to the good stuff.
You can also read this on AO3 here if you'd prefer.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Minors DNI!!!
“On the bed,” the voice whispered against your swollen lips. But you wanted to fight back a little, so you reached up to grasp his chin pulling him for another searing kiss. He complied, kissing back only for a moment. A string of your saliva still connected you as he broke away. “Now,” he growled.
Much better. Your eyes raked over his half-naked body as you walked backward until your legs hit the edge of the mattress. You liked what you saw standing before you. His pants hung low on his hips, exposing where red skin met white scars on his torso. Those lean muscles drew you to the prominent bulge restricted by black fabric.
“What next?” You asked, baiting him. “Daddy…”
“Fuck.” He groaned before striding towards you and clutching your chin in his grip. “Lie back, bitch.” His other hand found your shoulder, firmly pressing you down until you bounced against the sheets.
Caging you in with his arms, he hovered over you. Red irises glowed in the darkness as he scanned your body. Watching as your breasts heaved under his heavy-lidded gaze. Heat swelled below your stomach and your breath quickened in anticipation. He captured your lips in another kiss, prying your mouth open and making you surrender to him.
A hand moved from where it was gripping the sheets beside your face and found your breast, groping roughly before tweaking your nipple with his sharp nail. You whined into the kiss, and he repeated the motion on the other before trailing down your abdomen to the last scrap of clothing left.
Your breath hitched as he slipped a finger under the waistband of your panties and snapped it back against your tender flesh hard enough to leave a mark. You let out a yelp, even though you could admit it was pretty hot. He beamed at you even as you were growing impatient. “Fuck, Blitzø. Stop playing with me.”
The imp shook his head as he tried to contain a chuckle. “Not so patient now, huh? Fucking brat.” He lifted your hips off the bed to yank them down your legs, leaving you completely bare. “Now, for the fun part,” he said as his hands cleaved your knees apart, spreading your thighs and exposing your throbbing sex.
He grazed his knuckles on your inner thighs before spreading open your folds. His eyes bore into yours as he flicked his forked tongue against your clit. “Blitz!” you cried out.
“That’s my name bitch, don’t wear it out,” he snarked before sealing your aching nub with his lips and sucking. His teeth grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves, making your eyes shut in pleasure. The image of the black heart-shaped skull on his forehead that the two of you shared framed between your quivering thighs imprinted on your mind.
You lost yourself in the feeling of him devouring you. Two fingers collected your arousal and sunk into you, quickly finding your g-spot.
As you threw your head back in ecstasy, you felt something shift. A vibrating sensation joined the mouth on you as static filled the air. You blindly reached out your hands to grab Blitzø by the horns, but instead you found cartilage covered in fur. “Look at me,” a new voice commanded – this one sounding disturbingly like it was being broadcast on an old-fashioned radio.
You jolted but a hand came to your hip, keeping you firmly pressed into the mattress. When you finally felt brave enough to open your eyes, the imp you had once loved had been replaced by none other than the radio demon. Somehow, Alastor was still sporting his signature grin as he gorged himself on your soaking cunt. His handsome face dripping with your juices as radio dials whirred in his pupils.
“Good girl,” he praised, clearly satisfied with your wide-open eyes. Your hips bucked as you struggled under his grasp. It egged him on. His tongue lashing at you as fingers prodded faster and deeper into you. The tension that had been building at your core hurdled towards your peak.
You screamed as you reached your climax. Tremors wracked through your body as you rode out the blissful feeling of that wicked mouth on you. And then he was gone. You startled awake. Alone in your bed. The twisted sheets around you were soaked in sweat… and something else even more shameful.
Fuuuuck. Eager to get out of the bed where you dreamed up that twisted scenario, you threw the blankets back and searched for a change of clothes. Your mind set on finding something to make you forget about that dream nightmare.
You watched as the knife soared through the air before finding its target. Sinking into the lavender skin between Valentino’s eyes. It was a picture of the bastard, of course. It was not as gratifying as it would have been to slice the oversized moth but satisfying, nonetheless. You had torn the photograph of the overlord out of a magazine you found in the hotel’s parlor.
Trudging up the slight hill, you retrieved the knife from where it was buried in the beat-up chair you had discovered gathering dust in a closet. You didn’t think Charlie would notice it gone. The red armchair furnished the Hazbin Hotel before it was remodeled. It somehow survived among the rubble left by the battle with the exorcists. But you would see that it didn’t survive your wrath.
You pulled out the other knives seated into his chest and crotch, revealing the scraps of flimsy paper that remained. You had begun your assault with his wings and skinny limbs, wanting to maximize his use and elongate the pain. He deserved it. For all the damage he had done. For all the souls he devoured. For Angel.
The photograph was torn to shreds so it was time for a new victim. Crumpling what remained into a ball, you hurled him aside with the picture of Mammon you annihilated earlier that morning. Slicing into the king of greed had felt just as good and reassured you that your aim was still perfect – even if you hadn’t thrown a single knife since moving in with the princess.
You picked up the magazine you had haphazardly tossed to the ground, flipping through the pages in search of a new target. You knew taping a page out of a magazine to a chair wasn’t the best setup for practice, but you were in a rush to find a good distraction. Your head still in a haze from what woke you this morning, refreshing this set of skills had been the first distraction that popped up in your mind. You needed this. So did your beautiful knives, having been neglected for too long.
An advertisement for VoxTek Enterprises caught your attention. Why would anyone be motivated to buy tech from an ad that merely depicted its CEO and founder? Vox must be a self-absorbed asshole!
You ripped the page out by its seam before realizing what you were doing. While aiming at Mammon, you thought of Fizz refusing to see you after the fire. You thought of the bruises covering Angel’s body after a long day at work when shooting at Val. There was a clear reason for your last two choices, but who was Vox for? You shuddered at the thought before brushing it aside. You would pretend it was only because you found the blockheaded overlord annoying.
With a new victim in your sites, you walked towards the hotel. This time you created more space between you and the chair than you had for the last round. A slight challenge would force you to focus, especially since your mind had been muddled with thoughts of the radio demon.Curling your toes into the soles of your shoes as if you could grip the dirt beneath your boots, you grounded yourself. You effortlessly shifted into a fighting stance while maintaining your balance. A slight breeze tickled your skin as you took in the peacefulness of your surroundings.
You always felt the most centered during times like these. The calm before the storm unleashed by your rage and power. That’s the real reason you sought out some target practice if you were being honest with yourself. You needed the fight to feel like yourself. Having abandoned it to aid Charlie on her mission, you were left feeling like a stranger in your own skin.
Since you weren’t about to wake up Angel at five in the morning for some hand-to-hand combat or even a turf war, this shitty makeshift setup in the fields behind the hotel was the next best thing. And you could admit to yourself, that your ego needed this. After turning into a blubbering mess yesterday, you needed to reassure yourself that you were still deadly.
Narrowing your focus to the knife in your hand and the distant target, you inhaled deeply. With a steady exhale, you let the knife slide out of your fingers and watched as it soared through the air. Your whole world centered on the knife as it made an impact, plunging between the spindly legs of the overlord.
With a satisfied smile, you prepared yourself to replicate it. This time through his right eye. You weren’t exactly sure why you were driven to skip straight to the good stuff, but it felt right.
Everything around you slipped away again. Even the faint sounds of the wildlife surrounding you came to a halt. You aimed and pulled your arm back like before, but a faint buzzing sound crept up on you. A chill ran down your spine as you realized what it heralded. Before you could bring your hand down, fingers wrapped around your wrist and held you in place.
“And what do you think you’re doing, my dear?” He whispered, so close that static tickled your ear and danced across the nape of your neck. You could even feel his stomach pressed against your back since the radio demon was directly behind, mirroring you if it wasn’t for the extreme height difference.
“Let go,” you said to him through gritted teeth. He only inhaled sharply in response. Eugh. He was smelling you. What a freak. Your thoughts immediately jumped to regret. Thinking you should have probably showered before changing into your leathers. You hoped he wouldn’t scent the sweat and arousal from earlier this morning.
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth before responding. “Not until you answer my question.”
“Get your fucking hand off of me,” you spat as you thrashed against him, struggling to escape his embrace. “I’m not afraid of you.” A lie.
“Oh, but you are.” His other hand curled around the nape of your neck, roughly pulling you backward and forcing you to look up at him. The twisting position was straining, and you wished you had the guts to truly fight back. But no matter how tough you were, he unnerved you, unlike any other sinner. With other overlords like Vox, you merely felt disgusted. But with Alastor… he was a creature like no other.
“Why would I be afraid of you?” It’s not like I have a soul.” You grumbled that last part. If you did have a soul at one point in your life, it could never go to Heaven, and you had snuffed it out like a flame years ago. Even if you did, you had never heard of a sinner owning a Hellborn demon before. Had you?
“You don’t?” The question was almost mocking, but you ignored him. You had stopped your efforts to escape, waiting for him to let down his guard or loosen the constraint he had you in. “If you’re not afraid of me, why are you trembling?” You hadn’t realized you had been shaking. You dropped the knife letting it clatter to the ground between you. That’s when he finally released you from his grip, allowing you to move several steps away before facing him.
“Don’t feel special,” you were going to leave it at that, but you continued with an excuse. A real one. Even if it wasn’t the only reason you were shaking in his arms. “Sometimes, I get a bit shaky. It got so bad when I was younger that my mother used to motion to me to keep my fork steady at the dinner table.” Why were you explaining this to him? And why mention your mother? Even the thought of her concerned eyes as she watched you attempt to eat without spilling made your chest tighten.
“I bet your target would disagree,” he said gesturing towards what remained of the chair.
“That’s different. When it comes to my knives, my mind is quiet. Same with guns. And hand-to-hand combat. Or anything to do with fighting.” Stop rambling, your thoughts screamed.
He hummed to himself thoughtfully. “Are you going to answer my question?”
Exasperated, you threw up your hands in the air. “Isn’t it obvious?! I’m throwing knives.”
“Do I need to remind you of the rules here at the Hazbin Hotel?” You rolled your eyes at that. Yes, technically, weapons were not allowed at the hotel. Before you arrived, it had been a much stricter rule but after the exorcists attacked, the new building was filled with weapons for defense. Others even had their own weapons: Alastor had his staff, Vaggie had her angelic spear and Angel had his tommy guns, even if he did hide them from Charlie. In your defense, everyone in the hotel was just about as deadly without weapons as they were with them.
“You know those rules are outdated. And I’m not even a guest.” You argued, folding your arms over your chest.
“Then, what are you?” He inquired.
“I-I help out.” Satan, why did you stutter? Probably because even though you had set out to help with the hotel, in the weeks since you moved in you had done nothing. You barely got out of bed that first week. You had felt so empty even with the promise of a purpose. Since then, you acted like a guest. Participating in Charlie’s exercises with Angel and the rest of the staff – excluding Alastor, who usually just watched from a dark corner – and generally just fucking around.
“And what exactly do you ‘help out’ with? What is your job title?” You stared blankly at him. He had you stumped. You should probably ask for a specific job from Charlie soon. To give your life meaning obviously, not just to get Alastor off your back.
You shrugged, trying to shake off the shame that flooded your body. Redemption was a lot further away than you thought. “I’ll figure that out.”
He chuckled and you fell silent, looking down at the knife that lay at your feet.
“You’re very talented.” Another compliment from the radio demon. That was the second one in two days. It was an effort to keep your mouth from gaping open. You didn’t want him to see your shock, but you knew from the smug look on his face that it was written all over your own… no matter how hard you tried to hide it.
“Thank you,” you said sheepishly as you refused to remove your gaze from the ground. You pushed the knife around with the tip of your boot. If you weren’t already red, you would certainly be blushing a deep crimson.
“Where did you learn to throw knives like that?”
“What kind of question is that? I live in Hell. Of course, I can throw a knife.” You rolled your eyes. “Duh.”
“That kind of precision is unique for an imp.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at that too, but you had already met your quota for this conversation. Throw in some cystic acne and you would revert to your moody teenaged self. “Imps can fight.”
“Not like that.”
“Fuck, old man. You can’t say things like that.” His eyes widened as if he was shocked that you bit back a little. Part of you enjoyed seeing him taken aback. Maybe, that’s why you decided to tell the truth. “If you absolutely must know, I worked as an assassin for a few years.”
“Were you any good?”
“At the killing, yes. But we ran our own business, and it was a fucking mess. I thought for a while that we had run it into the ground.”
“We?” Oh. You realized what you had implied and inwardly cursed your lack of filter.
“My friend and I,” you said, feeling weird about calling Blitzø your ex. “Apparently, it worked better without me. After I left, I started seeing billboards all over the city for his new and improved hitman service.” Even if it wasn’t your dream, it still hurt.
The look in Alastor’s eye told you that he sensed there was more to the story. More to your friend. It was almost sympathy if the radio demon could feel sympathy. Whatever it was, you hoped he would drop it. He looked like he would, but then he asked, “Why him?”
“Why who? My friend?”
“No, your target.” He drew your attention back to the present moment.
“Oh, Vox. He’s my latest. I had already obliterated Mammon and Valentino. I just picked a random picture out of the magazine.” You didn’t want to admit that you briefly thought of the radio demon when you had chosen to target the flat-faced corporate overlord.
“I understand Val, given your close relationship with our resident effeminate fellow. But then why Mammon?”
“Can’t I just hate the king of greed?”
“You can, but I was watching. You picked him first and it appeared… deliberate.”
“Let’s just say that I know on a personal level, he’s one of the worst kinds of demons.”
Alastor looked like he wanted to ask more, but you had avoided enough of his questions that you didn’t want to deal with it anymore. “So, if you don’t mind. I’d like to return to my target practice in peace.”
“Very well,” he began to walk back towards the hotel before adding. “I’ll see you in a few hours for another one of Charlie’s delightfully charming exercises.”
“You don’t even fucking participate!” You yelled at the back of his fuck-ass bob. A low chuckle accompanied by a faint crackle of static his only response.
Later that morning, you found yourself teetering on the top rung of a ladder while Angel stood at the base holding it steady. Ever so carefully, you placed a playing card on the top of the tall tower of cards that the group had been working on for the last hour. It was supposed to be a team-building exercise that followed a brief lesson from Vaggie about the power of working together towards a common goal. You understood what they were aiming for with this lesson and assumed it would benefit the hotel to have everyone working together. But you couldn’t help but wonder if Charlie was running out of ideas. How was this supposed to help sinners get into Heaven?
Two other ladders surrounded the comedically large playing card structure. Husk stood on one with Charlie keeping it steady as Lucifer stood on his tiptoes on the top of the other with support from Vaggie. It was a bit of a surprise to see him. He moved into the hotel a little while before you, but he was always holed up in his room. Likely working on his latest rubber duck invention. A particular quirk of the King of Hell that you found very surprising. Nifty was also there, banished to the sidelines after she knocked over the first tower halfway through while she was chasing after a nasty bug with her needlepoint. And not surprisingly, Alastor merely watched from a seat at the bar, taking in all the “entertainment” playing out before him.
Angel handed you another playing card to add to the outrageous pile and as he did, he threw a sly smirk Husk’s way. “You look good from down here,” your friend hollered. The winged-cat demon growled in response, not wanting any of the attention that Angel gave him.
“Knock it off, Angel.” Charlie scolded. “We want our friends to be comfortable around us when we’re working together.” She was clearly trying to tie the lesson about teamwork in with one about Angel’s incessant sexual harassment.
“Don’t worry, Charlie. I’ll make sure he’s comfortable.” The lilt to his voice suggested he wanted to make the bartender a lot more than comfortable. In an instance, Angel let go of your ladder and strutted towards Husk with determination. “Are you sure you don’t want me… underneath you?”
It all happened so fast after that. Charlie chided him for not supporting his partner, but then let go of her hold as Angel neared. Husk didn’t notice as she moved to hold your ladder in place of his. She was clearly hoping the spider would at least support Husk’s ladder as he harassed him, but he didn’t. Husk let out a groan in frustration as Angel tried to sweet talk him before pounding his fists against the top of the ladder. That’s when the whole thing started to slant. Almost in slow motion, the ladder came crashing down to the floor and knocked over Lucifer in the process. The king of pride somehow fell forward into the tower, sending everything tumbling to the ground. Remarkably, your ladder was the only one left standing as the dust settled on the pile of cards, ladders and demons strewn across the floor.
“I’m fucking done,” Husk said, dramatically dropping the cards that remained in his hands before leaving the scene of the crime for the safety harbored behind the bar top.
“Yeah, I’m over it.” Angel added, puffing his chest out and crossing his legs casually as he sat down next to Alastor. The radio demon looked annoyingly delighted by the disastrous outcome of this silly little exercise.
“You know, what?! FUCK IT! I should’ve known you guys wouldn’t be able to work together on this.” Vaggie fumed, but her girlfriend moved close to her.
Placing a hand on the former exorcist’s shoulder, the princess tried her best to calm her down. “It’s alright, Vaggie. They worked together for a while and that’s all that matters.”
“And we got it like really tall before it got knocked over,” you said, trying to salvage a shitty situation. “I feel like that’s an achievement in and of itself.” You climbed down the ladder, joining everyone else on the solid floor.
Vaggie mumbled some Spanish curses under her breath before storming off in a huff. Before Charlie could follow, you stopped her.
“Hey, can I talk to you about something?”
Charlie’s head bobbed between you and the door Vaggie slammed behind her before deciding. “Uh yeah, for a minute. She probably just needs time to cool off. What’s up?”
“I enjoyed today’s lesson,” you started. It wasn’t exactly a lie since you had found yourself having fun at certain points. “But I wonder if were approaching this the wrong way?”
She rubbed at her shoulder, looking a bit nervous. “I’m glad you enjoyed it!” She blushed, but clearly something was on her mind. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” your words trailed off as you thought about the best way to put this without offending her. “I agree that teamwork is important. But I wonder if it would help to mix in a few lessons that focus more on the individual – since it’s an individual’s journey along the path to redemption. You said that not even the angels seem to know what it is that gets someone into Heaven, so what if its slightly different for everyone? Since everyone is their own unique sinner, what if their path to Heaven looks different as well.”
Charlie’s face brightened. You hoped it was a sign that this was going better than you thought it would. “I actually love that idea!” She said, excitedly. “Though, I’m not sure what that would look like. Do you have something in mind?”
“I was in and out of group therapy and rehab all my adult life. We did tons of exercises that I think we could adapt to fit our goal of redemption. Could I maybe pitch you a few options tomorrow and if you like one, we could do it the next morning?”
“Yes! Yes! A million times, yes! I should probably go check on Vaggie now but just let me know when you’re ready.”
A part of you wanted to stop her once more. To ask her for Asmodeus’s phone number, but you decided against it. What would you say to him? Or a better question, what would you say to Fizz if you spoke to him? But Charlie was out the door before you could muster up the courage to change your mind.
Hope you enjoyed! It's actually funny. Two of my best friends read the little smut scene out of curiosity while I was proofreading it. They're not familiar with either show, they're just horny and in love so they thought it would be fun. I cringed so hard, but their reactions were priceless. She's very prim and proper and hates words like pussy and cunt so she struggled but couldn't stop reading. My favorite comments were: Male friend: His skin is red? Female friend: Yeah, he's a demon. She watches this shit all the time. - M: His name is Blitzø?! What kind of name is that? - F: You said there's two guys? Me: Yeah, just wait. M: Oh, I think I found him. - F: You know I hate the word clit. Me: I use cunt later too. F: *shudders* - F: Folds!? Me: I thought you stopped reading it. F: I did, but I couldn't look away. - After they finished reading... M: Do you want feedback? Me: On the writing, yes. On my choices in men, no. M: *looks at me way too seriously* It's very well written. F: I can tell it's very well written, and I don't want to offend you but that's just not my thing. 20 minutes later, she returned... F: I really hope I didn't offend you. I know you're a good writer, it's just those words *shudders* Me: I'm not offended!
So... what did ya think? Hope you're not as grossed out by the words clit and cunt and folds as my friend. Luckily, her partner didn't mind. I don't know why but the scene with the knives was really hard for me to write. And honestly, the short little smut scene, too. For all the smut I read, I've surprisingly written very little smut. But I'm hoping to get better at it. There will be more smut to come. That was just a little teaser. And it will mostly be kinky because Blitzø exists and because well, I'm kinky. Anyways, hope you like it!
tag list: @sirens-and-moonflowers @whoknowswhoiamtoday @kisskissshutmydoor hopefully y'all are still interested in this story!
