pairing: Deer demon! Y/N x Alastor

*summary: Y/N is a deer demon, who was gravely injured by her rival. As demise slowly begins to take its toll, Alastor finds her, taking pity, and deciding to help her.*

requested by Some_Crazy_Deer

*Alastor POV*

Another still and dead quiet night on the outskirts of the Pride ring. Twice a week, at the stroke of midnight, Alastor teleports himself out of the chaotic, filth ridden city that is Pentagram city to find some tranquility and peace of mind in the places where no one dares venture. Of course, no other demon would ever attempt to go beyond the ring border. But...Alastor is different, enjoying things that some would consider...insane. 

A soft wind blows through Alastor's hair as his hands are clasped behind his back while he walks farther and farther in the tinted red darkness, colored black from tall peaking dead trees as crows squawk on top it's branches before taking flight when Alastor's presence nears to close for comfort. 

Such stillness in this empty side of Hell, it could make one's mind lose stability in such a place. But to Alastor, this is his playground. A playground all for himself...and a...very nice...hunting ground.

Walking on the small foot trail fit for one for about twenty minutes, a certain scent lingers in the air...smelling similar to iron. Rich...tasteful. 
Blood.

A smirk forms on Alastor's face, as he slips through the shadows to follow the scent of fresh blood only growing more potent with each passing second. Now what slaughter did he miss? Was it an animal on animal? A poor, demon soul attacked from one of many Hells monstrous beasts. Or...is it something else?

Judging the scent, the blood smells a little sweeter than that of a male's demon blood. But...it resembles closely to the smell of an animal's blood.
Emerging on the surface again when he notices he's right underneath where his target is, his eyes open to see a demoness laying against a dead root ball of a tree that had been blown over from Hell's strong wind.

 Your head lays rolled to the side, your breathing slowing to almost a complete stop, while your hand holds a deep slash across your stomach that bleeds profusely, your blood spilling into a puddle under you, causing the Radio Demon to be led to this exact spot...

Alastor tilts his head, the smile still on his lips. How strange...he's never seen another demon out HERE before. Especially not a demoness. A demoness who doesn't appear to have been attacked by an animal...but was sliced by a blade.

Oh dear, did he miss the thrill of a fight? What a shame. 

Alastor makes a hmming sound in the back of his throat, approaching you while you fade in and out of conscious, unable to get a clear look of who this blurry figure is that is approaching you--as he kneels beside you, propping his arms on his knees while his cane rests against his elbow. 

"My my my...what a mess we have here," he says, glancing at your dying face. "What in the world even happened?" 

You don't respond, but instead, raise a bloody hand, trying to touch his face, which he denies by simply taking hold of your wrist, though his eyes trail on the blood staining your skin. It takes all his strength to refrain himself from licking your palm just to see if your blood tastes as sweet as it smells.

"It appears you're close to demise," Alastor replies as he lowers your wrist to your side. "Well then, that certainly won't do."  He begins to take his coat off, too distracted to see your eyes closing for a moment, before shooting open, before closing again. You're within seconds from demise.

When Alastor does glance at you, he smirks a little. "Don't you worry, little doe..." he says, though to your ears his voice sounds as if it's underwater and faraway, before you feel the gentle caress of fingers to your cheeks, brushing aside some dirt and grime stained on your face, along with a few strands of hair. 

"You won't be meeting your demise just yet..." he finishes saying, before you black out completely. 

🦌🦌🦌

What...happened?
Your eyes slowly open when you suddenly begin to feel a bit...warm. Last thing you remember, you had felt cold. Colder than normal. Why...do you feel so warm all of a sudden? 

Is this a second afterlife? Or is this just a permanent dream, never changing, always remaining the same? 

As your eyes begin to focus, you see that you lay in a rather large bed under black and red blankets, while your back is propped up with two pillows. 

You notice how you're in a what looks like a bedroom. Red curtains hanging by the tinted window to the right, an old radio playing a soft scratchy melody while it stands on top a small nightstand in front of a large bookshelf filled to the brim with thick hardback books. 

You look around, confused and...a little worried. Weren't you just in the forest outskirts of the Pride ring with your rival? 

Your mind fills with thoughts of the moments before you reached the point of blankness. A sick feeling flooding your veins, entering your bloodstream, causing you to place a hand on your stomach which to your surprise...is bandaged?!

You throw the blankets to the side to see that you aren't wearing a shirt, but your chest and stomach is wrapped tight with white bandages that are slowly turning red from obviously the gaping wound on your stomach, given to you from a demon that is your rival. You and they had a...what you say, fight to the death? Well, almost to death? 

Your rival left with a couple of pretty bad cuts, but you suffered the most damage. Though you hadn't died from it? And now you find yourself bandaged up? Laying a bed that smells almost like lemon and...coffee? You can't really tell.

The door ahead of you makes a clinking sound, swinging open almost in a slow, haunting way, and your head snaps up towards the direction of the doorway to see a red and black headed man who has a wide and intimidating smile on his face. 

The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbows, as he wears a red undershirt with black stripes overlaying each other, and a pair of suspenders.

Fear has you bring the blanket up to your face as your stomach fills with the heavy weight that most people call...dread. This is the Radio Demon's house. And most likely...the Radio Demon's bed. An Overlord of Hell you have been warned by countless others to stay away from, which you have listened and obeyed. Though right now...you find yourself completely trapped in the wolf's den. 

Alastor's grin widens as he approaches you, arms crossing while his hips lean to the side a little. "Well, look who's finally back from the dead!" he laughs at his joke, the sound effect of people's cheers and clap only to rig through the air, before it's silenced just as fast as it came. "I didn't believe you'd ever wake. Though I'm glad to see my efforts in saving you wasn't a waste of time."

Wait...did he just say...save you? The Radio Demon, saving someone? That's a bit far-fetched.
You gulp down a mouthful of saliva that built up in your mouth. "Save...me? Wh-why?" you can't help but stutter a little, utterly confused and in fear that the only reason he brought you here was for him to...have his version of fun with you. And by fun, you mean torture. 

Alastor can't help but chuckle softly. Goodness, did everyone view him as some ruthless cold-hearted killer without an ounce of good in him? ...alright, they're correct, but at the same time, they seem to be oblivious to the one thing. 

Alastor never hurts a female demon. Or children. He has his limits, woman and children are those. He's a gentleman, just like his momma raised him to be.
He takes a seat on his bed, watching as you scoot away from him like a scared deer that's been spotted by a hungry wolf. Even though both of you are deer demons.

And might he add...you're quite the pretty deer demon. A doe deer...with cute deer ears and...hmm...do you have a tail as well? He can't help but be curious about that. Though, pushing aside such mindless thoughts, he speaks to reassure you further. 

"Because you were in dire need of help," he points out, "I may be a serial killer, but even a monster like me has moral code," he chuckles, before his red eyes meet your gaze, his smile widening a little. "Pardon me for taking your shirt off without consent. You were unconscious and needed to be stitched as soon as possible. How does your stomach feel, by the way? Does it hurt?" 

Your eyes drift down to your stomach, a wave of uneasiness flooding you when you realize that the Radio Demon had to take your shirt off and...stitch you. You've been STITCHED. STITCHED like a doll! That feels worse than knowing that this Alastor stranger TOOK YOUR SHIRT OFF.

A shudder runs through you as your hands grip the blanket to raise it back up to your face, a groan escaping your lips without you even realizing it. The fact that someone like him actually ENJOYS blood and gore, he probably liked the process of it sewing you...you feel like puking now. 

"I suppose that is a yes?" he tilts his head curiously, trying to get a better look at your face you're trying to cover up from embarrassment.
"I still don't understand," you look at him finally, peeking through the top of the blanket like a frightened child in front of a scolding parent. "You're not going to...steal my soul? You just...wanted to help?" 

Alastor chuckles to himself. Alas, even he himself can't help but admit that he's confused just as much as you are. He never usually saves people, it's not his style, and it goes against his reputation of being Hell's most feared and blood-thirsty Overlord. Saving a deer demoness like yourself, with no deal or soul-claim as payment? It confuses him. 

He smirks. "Let us just say that...I find you different than most sinners down here," He claims. "You are similar to me," he touches one of your deer ears, and you attempt to smack his wrist away, but to no avail, "besides, what gentleman would I be if I left a beautiful demoness like yourself unattended?" 

Your brow furrows, though a little blush forms on your cheeks when he called you beautiful. Even you yourself admit that despite being warned to stay away from the Radio Demon, and always trying your best to do just that...he is attractive. One of the better-looking male demons down here who still holds a slice of respect for himself and appearance. Dress right dress, nice hair, charming smile--which you know he uses to hide his true intentions, but it's still a nicer smile then most down here. Even if...it's sometimes scary--a 1920's style voice with the crackle of static laced over his voice. 

He's unique, you'll give him that. 

You hold his gaze for a moment, before a sudden pain in your stomach causes you to flinch and hiss. "Ouch."

"I suppose the wound is still hurt. Now then," he pats your knee under the blanket and stands up, "shall I make you something? Would you like a drink of water, tea, a sinner's blood?" he laughs when he saw the horror flash across your face at the mention of drinking someone's blood. "Joking darling! I would never offer a lady such a thing, that's only for myself," he winks, smirking a little.

You are trying with all your best effort to keep the blush off your face. 

"Until your wound is completely healed, you are allowed to stay here. If you are in need of anything, come and ask me and I'll provide. But I must ask, and I hope you'll respect this, no snooping in my home, u̴̢̡̲̗̫̐͗̀n̸̢̡̲̼͙͒d̷̛̗̜͍̪̩͌e̸̱̓̀̐r̴̰͇̀͘͘s̶̡̰̜̋͒͂t̸̡̢̬͉͌̾̽̕̕ͅó̴͖͍̂̌̕ȯ̵̝̼ͅd̵̙́̄?̶̢̗̦̎́̉̃"

You nod quickly.

"Wonderful!" Alastor turns. "Go and rest for a while, I will make us some of my mother's jambalaya!" Before you can respond, he disappears out of the door, shutting it behind him, the room settling back to its normal state without the presence of the Radio Demon nearby.

You swallow a little, feeling your heart pound a little harder than it should be, and instinctively, you hold a hand against your chest to feel it's pounding. You can't entirely tell if it's because of being scared and still very much confused as to why you're here and what his true intention is, or if it's because you...kind of like him. 

You blush. It's most likely the second option, and you feel a little embarrassed to admit it.

Without you knowing, Alastor stands outside the room in the hallway, his back against the wall while a hand is raised to his mouth, though not entirely covering it. 
For the first time in a century, his heart is pounding harder than normal, while his cheeks feel warm.
That's a first time for him to experience such feelings...goodness is he sick with Hell's fever?! No, no, that can't be it. But what could this uncomfortable, yet nice feeling, feeling is?!  

He exhales a breath, shaking his head before re-setting his mind and emotions back to a state he prefers them to be, before walking down the hallway to make the jambalaya he promised to make. But this time...maybe with a little more love, as it is not for one person anymore, it is now for two. 

🦌🦌🦌

The days turned into weeks. You were slowly beginning to heal day by day--every few hours, Alastor coming to check the bandages and replace any that's been soaked through with blood-- the wound on your stomach began to close up to the point where the stitches needed to be removed. A process...you hated. But Alastor did well at remaining respectful and cautious, though there was one time where he did tell you to shut up during the removal of stitches because you couldn't stop whimpering.

But past everything, you couldn't help but find yourself truly enjoying being around his presence. Despite being a feared Overlord, he was...nice. And...different. He enjoyed listening to records that were forgotten over the years. 

He liked to dance--even if he was dancing by himself. He sang under his breath from time to time while cooking food with an apron tied around him--which you have to admit was adorable--he even read you a few chapters of a book he was currently interested in. It was a horror book, and of course his smile would grow wider whenever the book had reached a scary part, but still, a nice thing to do when you felt bored and restless from being bed-ridden for weeks.

It was strange, you've never met him before and know little to none about him, but you feel as if he's been your friend for years. Strange, isn't it? You can't understand why--if it's because there is a bond slowly building between the two of you, or if he just has that effect on people--but still, today as you finally were able to get out of the bed for the first time to leave, you felt a little sad. 

These few weeks passed by too quickly, you think to yourself.

As you finished getting dressed, Alastor comes into the room.
You look at him, a soft smile on your lips as you put on a coat. "Thank you...for saving me and taking care of me."

He nods. "Your very welcome, dear," he remarks, though his eyes glance down towards the ground and distance between you and him. Even he himself wasn't the only one who felt some sort of connection with you during these weeks. He couldn't help but admit that he enjoyed every moment of spending time with you. He...might have enjoyed it a little too much. Because now, he's at the point where...he's saddened to see you go.

He hoped that one day by chance he'll see your face again, if not soon, then later would be fine, if it meant he'd see you one more time, and see your smile.

You slowly approach him, realizing he's slightly blocking the door that'll take you out, but leaving is the last thing on your mind. Your hands begin to nervously twist and pinch at your skin, your eyes darting everywhere to refuse meeting his gaze out of fear of what you're thinking about saying. 
"I...want to maybe thank you in a different way. A way I feel...would be enough." 

Alastor stares at you a little confused, though remains silent to allow you to speak. 

"Would you, uhhh..." your hands begin to tug and twist at each other a little rougher than before. You swallow and force yourself to say what you've been thinking about for days. "Would you...be my partner?" 

You look away the moment the words left your lips out of shyness and embarrassment, clearly missing the shocked expression that flashes across Alastor's face.
Silence stretches between the two of you, and you sigh, feeling even more embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. Please don't--"

But you stop, feeling your arm being grabbed and tugged, before you felt the touch of lips on yours, kissing you.
Your eyes are wide open in shock, realizing that it's ALASTOR who's kissing you in this moment, Alastor who is holding your arm with one hand, while the other hand reached up to cradle your face. 

Though as the seconds pass...your embarrassment, and fearful feelings slowly get washed away with a warm sensation that floods your chest, causing your eyes to flutter shut, as you kiss him back, enjoying every moment of it. The feeling of his lips moving against yours, his hand delicately holding your face, his warmth penetrating through you, almost to an overwhelming point, where you can't tell whose breath is whose, or what is even happening today. 

You're too lost...in this moment, to care about anyone or anything else.
When Alastor pulls away, his thumb brushes against your cheekbone in a playful yet sweet manner, as he responds. "My dear, I'd love to be your partner."

"R-really?" you stutter, overjoyed and shy at the same time that someone as handsome and incredible as he is accepted your offer. "Do you know what I even mean by partner?"
He laughs. Oh, how adorable you are. 

He cups your face with both hands. "Of course I do. You're asking me to be your partner, which means that I'll be there for you, as you'll be there for me. You'll be someone I come home to every night of every day, someone who I'll shelter and adore more than anyone or anything else in all of Hell." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "you'll have me to protect you from those monsters that hide in the shadows outside. Someone to lean on when you're unhappy. Someone who I can give my smile to when you are unable to smile..." 

You blush. He is such a romantic, is he not? 

He chuckles. "So, my darling doe, would you like to celebrate our newfound feelings over a wonderful dinner at a fancy restaurant in Hell? I know just the perfect place, for a perfect demoness like yourself."
You chuckle, and nod. "I'd love to." 

"Splendid!" he picks you up and spins you, before kissing you once more, a little harder and deeper than the first, as he sets you back down. "My dear, you have no idea just how happy you've made a poor soul like myself." 

He kisses you on the forehead, before taking your hand with his and holding it lovingly. "Come, I have a lovely breakfast made. Let's go and enjoy it before it gets cold." He tugs you to follow, which you do, feeling all the happiness and joy of the world.
Such a weird twist of fate. Weeks ago, you were almost dying, when he suddenly appeared and came to your aid. Almost like...he is your guardian demon.

And if he is...then you'll be his guardian demon in return. You'll hold him in times that are dark and he's at a lost, you'll smile for him if his smile wavers, you'll tell him how you feel when he feels he's not good enough.

You'll be there for him...as he'll be there for you.  

THANKS FOR READING!