How (Not) To Summon A Demon: Chapter 7

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 7

SURPRISE!!!!!! It's another chapter! What? So soon! You betcha! The last chapter had me in a chokehold and I just couldn't. Stop. Writing. So here's chapter seven, lengthy af. Like... it's longer than all the others. I'm so sorry, but it's necessary, I promise! Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of blood, death, violence, Alastor being Alastor Word Count: 3,477 … what have I done XD (Link to the Ao3 posting just in case you wanna read it there and not here!)

“Maybe it’s about a subscription,” Veronica says as you pace back and forth in your room. “You know, letting you know a free trial is up?” You shake your head. You knew what the text was as soon as you saw it. It had woken you up from such a wonderful dream, your mind reeling when those seven letters glared at you. You had laid there, waiting for hours, until you heard Veronica leave her room in the morning before dragging her into yours.

“It’s him, I know it,” you seethe, trying to stay calm. You’re unsure how he even got your number, but if he had that much, then he knew everything. Where you lived, where you worked, who you were in contact with. Veronica. You glance towards her, guilt rising in your chest. She was only aware of the basics of your past fuck up, barely scratching the surface of the shit pile that laid beneath. He could hurt her, no. He would hurt her. Just to get to you.

“Ok, so your crazy ex has your number, no big deal! Just block him.” Veronica grabs your phone, tapping the number of the message. It disappears. “See? Gone.”

“It’s not that simple,” you say, sitting on your bed, placing your head in your hands. “He’s a creep, a level ten stalker. He’ll stop at nothing to find me. Again.” You flinch as you remember everything. He had been such a smooth talker, charming his way into your heart with empty promises. It was a high school love, a dream come true. The unpopular girl getting the prom king type story. After graduation, when the two of you moved north,  that dream turned sour. His true colors slowly showed themselves as he took his anger out on you, the marks on your lower back and upper thighs evidence to that. You managed to run away, to leave him but not for long. Within a few months, he had found you and the treatment was worse. You thought you were going to die, at the hands of that merciless pig.

How you managed to escape the second time, you were unsure. Call it the will of the Divine, but you did escape. You had returned home, scared and always looking over your shoulder. It took Veronica nearly a year just to get you to go anywhere. She thought it was just cause your ex was an asshole. She didn’t know how his hands had been wrapped around your throat, how he sneered at your face turning blue, or how he laughed when you coughed in attempt to regain your breath. He was a monster and now he had found you.

“Girlie, ain’t nothing going to happen,” Veronica says, bringing you back to the present. You don’t mean to flinch when she reaches for you and she pulls away. You apologize but she shakes her head. “Not in this house. There ain’t nothing to say sorry for, ok? You got me here, and even Alastor! He sure as hell will protect ya!”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t see how he looks at you?” You gawk at her, eyes wide. “Figured you didn’t. You’re blind as a bat, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask in disbelief.

“Girlie, that man has looked at you with hearts in his eyes since he showed up. He is hooked.”

You bark out a laugh, bewildered by her statement. “Veronica, I’ve only known him for, what, two days? Three? We barely know each other!”

“Time has nothing to do with love, honey. It can show up and bite you on the butt whenever it wants to.”

“No,” you deny, shaking your head. “It’s impossible.” Not to mention, he’s a demon. You’re pretty sure love is an emotion demons can’t feel, whether they were human before or not. Right? You stand and walk to the foot of your bed, crossing your arms.

“Any why is it impossible, hm?” Veronica follows, stepping in front of you with her hands on her hips. “For the past five years, I’ve been trying to get you set up with someone. I’ve been patient cause I figure it’s hard getting over shitty exes, but girlie, I’m tired of seeing you feel bad for yourself.” You look away from her gaze, guilt rising in your throat. “It’s about time you let someone love you.”

“I can’t.” Your arms drop to your side. “I’m not…”

“What? Worthy?” Veronica looks at you angrily. “You’re worth far more than you think. I see it.” She tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “And he does, too. Give him a chance.”

“Veronica,” you sigh. “He doesn’t like me.” He can’t, you think. He’s only here because you summoned him.

“Alright, that’s it!” You startle when Veronica claps her hands. She walks to your closet and starts yanking out clothes, throwing them right and left.

“What are you doing?”

“Picking an outfit for you,” she answers, spending a second to look at a pink shirt before tossing it, too.

“Why?”

“We’re going out, that’s why!” She stops finally on one of your nicer, pastel blue shirts. It’s cropped with a white daisy printed on the back. She pairs it with some blue jeans shorts and shoves them into your arms. “Put this on. I’m going to go tell Alastor.”

“Wait, what if he’s asleep?” you ask, trying to stop her without dropping your clothes.

“It’s nearly noon, girlie, I’m sure he’s awake. Now hurry up!” She’s out the door before you can protest, leaving you to stand alone the middle of your room. You sigh and drop the clothes onto your bed, knowing there wasn’t any way you were getting out of this.

 —

Alastor quirks a brow when it’s the black haired woman at his door and not you, taking a second to applaud himself for answering with his human disguise. “May I help you?” he asks, making sure not to sound annoyed.

“Wear something comfortable, we’re going out.”

“Beg your pardon?” Alastor’s grip on his door tightens. Veronica looks at him with a smile.

“Not like that, ya goof,” she explains. “Me, you, and girlie are going out for today. She needs it.” Veronica leaves him after, heading to her own room to no doubt get dressed. Alastor glances towards your bedroom, relaxing slightly. An outing did sound nice. He only got to see New Orleans at night when you had taken him to that strange sandwich place with the green interior. The fact that you thought the food there was worthy of multiple visits astounds him. You obviously didn’t know what good food was and he had been tempted since to show you. Perhaps, after the outing, he’d offer to cook tonight’s supper. Yes, that’s what he’ll do.

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor fixed his clothing. It was an outfit he adored when he was alive; a white button up, dark brown pants with suspenders attached, and black dress shoes.  Satisfied, he walks out to the living room, finding it empty. Not wanting to wrinkle his clothes, he stayed standing by the coffee table, idling himself with nails.

Your door opened first as you step out and Alastor can’t tear his eyes off you. It’s a simple outfit, nothing extraordinary about it, but on you, Alastor is captivated. The blue of your shirt makes your skin glow like the sunrise, beckoning him to come bask in its warmth. He has to still himself to keep from moving toward you as you sit on the couch.

“Sorry about this,” you say, your voice meek and shy. Your cheeks are red and you keep looking at his body. Alastor feels his smile widen, eyes lidded. How deliciously adorable.

Before he can respond to you, Veronica comes out of her room, very loudly to Alastor’s distaste. She’s wearing a more revealing outfit than you, her breasts pushed together and up. Men will no doubt be staring once she’s outside, but Alastor’s attention is already back on you, barely giving her a thought.

“Damn, Al, you don’t dress to disappoint, do ya?” Veronica comments, the nickname sounding revolting from her lips.

“Yes, well, one should always strive to look their best, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Fair,” she shrugs. Alastor’s lip twitches. “Let’s get going. I’m ready to have some fun.”

“Where are we even going?” you ask, standing up. Alastor once again has to still himself, the urge to stand next to you pulling at his core.

Veronica garbs her wallet and tosses you your keys. You’re caught off guard and attempt to catch them, but they slip past your fingers. Alastor reaches out swiftly and grabs them. “Here you go,” he says, watching you take them, the blush from before returning. He chuckles and watches it deepen as you dip away from him, following after Veronica. He straightens up and trails after you, holding the front door open for you to pass through. Veronica is already waiting outside in the hall.

“I figured we could go to Bourbon Street. I haven’t been in a while and it’s got lots of things for us to do there.” Alastor’s eyes widen. He remembers Bourbon Street, the nightlife of New Orleans back in his day, littered with speakeasies and jazz clubs. It wasn’t exactly what he imagined when invited to ‘hang out’. Waiting for Veronica to get a few steps ahead, he lowers himself to reach your ear.

“Is this the same Bourbon Street in the French Quarter?” he whispers, nearly laughing when you jump at his voice. Your face has been a constant red this entire time and he finds the color becoming his favorite all over again.

“Yeah, you know it?” she asks, her voice low to keep Veronica from hearing. He glances at the black haired girl before answering.

“Darling, I was the highlight of it,” he teases. “Though I doubt it’s still the same scandalous street I once knew it to be.”

“What do you mean by scandalous?” she asks but Alastor straightens back up just as he sees Veronica turn toward them. She’s standing by your car now, waiting. Alastor is quick to walk around to the driver’s side and hold open the door as you step in. You thank him, hiding from his gaze as he shuts the door. Veronica waits by hers for him to do the same, but Alastor simply hops into the back. He chuckles low when Veronica huffs with a frown and gets in, fascinating her seatbelt.

The drive to the French Quarter isn’t long and Alastor feels nostalgic watching the newer parts of New Orleans bleed into the city he once called home. It both shocked him and made him proud to see some parts of her never changing despite how big she’d gotten. Since his death, it seemed New Orleans doubled in size, gaining attraction for its historical beauty. It kind of irked him knowing his era was only a fad, a quick interest to younger folks nowadays. They knew more of it than he did, getting to see the evolution through time.

Ignoring the annoyance, he chose to look at you as you drove. Your attention was hard focused on the road, your eyes checking the mirrors and streets every so often. When you caught him looking in the rear view mirror, your eyes would widen slightly and blush. Alastor was becoming addicted to that look on you. He wanted to see more. Too bad it wasn’t just the two of you right now, he thought to himself. He looks away from you. Too bad? Was he disappointed he wasn’t alone with you? Veronica had said this was for your sake, a chance to get you out of the house. He understand that, knowing how important it was to change scenery when things were becoming stale, but why did he want to be alone with you?

This was becoming absurd. Ever since you summoned him up him, things have been different and new. You were suppose to have made your wish by now. Most humans he’d heard of usually did. The demons he heard talk about being summoned would boast about how easy it had been to get the human to wish, especially when told they could be granted anything. Humans were easily entertained and were greedy, wanting nothing but money, fame, or sex. Yet you were different. You wanted nothing, it seemed, even going as far as to asking if you could use your wish for another. Such a selfless act, it had Alastor baffled. He assumed it was then that you caught his attention, wiggling your way into his thoughts. Yes, all you were to him was a fascination, a curious mortal he wanted to know more about. That’s all. 

“Woo, we’re here!” Veronica shouts, breaking his train of thought. Alastor looks up to see her climbing out the car, you as well and so he follows. Looking around, he’s once again surprised at just how much hasn’t changed. His smile grows.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

“It’s like I’ve never left,” Alastor answers, smiling down at you. You don’t seem to notice but your small hands grab his arm, interlocking as you wait by his side. His chest swells and he feels heat itching his nose. “Shall we, my dear?” You giggle, a heavenly sound to his ears, and nod your head. He begins to walk, following Veronica who is already heading down the street into a bustling crowd. It’s definitely more crowded than he remembers.

“I bet these shops weren’t here,” you say. Alastor agrees, looking at all the colorful signs lining the buildings you pass.

“The buildings were, but - oh!” Alastor points to a small shop with an antique sign. “That one is still the same.” You look to where he’s pointing and laugh.

“A dentist? Really?”

“Well, the dentist himself may be long since parted, but the shop itself was around, yes,” he tells you.

“This is so weird,” you comment and Alastor tilts his head.

“How so?”

“I mean, I’ve lived here my whole life practically. I’ve seen these streets hundreds of times, but, walking with you, it’s like seeing them again for the first time.” Your eyes light up as you talk, leaning into him slightly. “You have access to a history I would’ve never been able to know had I not met you. It’s nice, being with you.” Alastor feels something in his stomach stir, something moving around. It’s a strange feeling and he doesn’t like it. Perhaps he’s just hungry.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says. He looks around for your roommate, the other woman long since disappeared. He wants to find something to eat, but doesn’t want to be rude. Then again, if she was doing her own thing, that meant it was just you and him. How nice that sounded, you and him. “Are you hungry, my dear?” You look relieved that he asked.

“Starving. I haven’t ate breakfast yet,” you admit. Alastor hums, searching for a decent spot to pick. There are plenty of restaurants to choose from, some small while others seem to take up a whole block. Some have awfully bright colors and he decides to stay away, not wanting to eat at a place with a giant, yellow M fixated above its doors.

“How about that one?” you ask. You’re pointing at a bistro tucked away in the middle of two larger businesses. There’s barely a soul inside. It’s perfect.

Alastor happily leads you to it, opening the door for you like the gentleman he was raised to be. He finds it unpleasant that you’ve had to deal with men incapable of even this much, wondering just how many have attempted to court you and failed. It would be such a pleasant sight to watch them perish at his hand, watching as they realize with fearful eyes that they never stood a chance with you. He bites his inner cheek to keep his smile from growing sinister, feeling bloodlust crawling through.

“Welcome to The Little Easy! Table for two?" a middle aged woman asks, approaching the two of you with menus. You nod and together, the waitress leads you to an open table. Alastor pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before he does. The woman chuckles. "I haven't seen manners like that since my husband was alive!"

"Your husband sounds like a gentleman, then," Alastor comments.

"Oh, he was. A dying breed today, I'm afraid." Again, that statement angers Alastor. Has the world of men truly fell so far after his passing? "What can I get you folks started with?"

"Um," you look at the menu provided, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. He wants to bite it. Wait, what? Alastor quickly looks down, jaw aching. He wants to bite, to maim, to eat. His mouth waters. Hopefully there is something appetizing here, for his sake.

"Can I get the pulled pork po-boy, a side of fries, and a glass of water?" you ask and Alastor perks up. He checks the menu and sure enough, there's a list of famous pressed po-boys. Excitement fills him. He hasn't eaten a po-boy since he was alive, a delicacy that had just recently caught on before his death.

"Sure can, honey, and what about you?" the waitress asks.

"I'll have the roast beef debris, swiss cheese, thank you." She nods and takes the menus.

"And to drink?"

"Water, as well."

"Coming right up!" The waitress leaves and Alastor glances over to you. You're fiddling your thumbs on the table, obviously trying to avoid looking at him. He chuckles, making you look up now.

"What?" you ask.

"I was just surprised, is all," he answers. You tilt your head, nose scrunching up. It reminds him of a rabbit. "Po-boys were a classic in my time. I'm surprised they're still around." You smile, nodding.

"They're still a classic," you state, folding your arms on the table and leaning forward. He forces himself to stay locked on your face, ignoring the way the collar of your shirt dips down. "New Orleans is famous for it's shrimp, jambalaya, po-boys, and voodoo. At least, to tourists, it is."

"And what do you find it famous for?" Alastor asks.

"Well, as silly as it sounds, I kind of like it for the bayous," you admit, blushing slightly. Whether from him or embarrassment, he's unsure. "Most people look at them and think, ew, muddy waters and alligators. I look at them and think -"

"Beautiful."

You look back up at him and smile. "Yeah, beautiful. The moss covered cypresses, the way the sunlight dances on the waters, it's captivating. I love them." Alastor nods, knowing the feeling.

"The bayous were also an admiration of mine when I was alive," Alastor says, watching how you lean closer to listen, enthralled. "They weren't exactly a playground back then, people often warning not to go in unless you sought the workings of a voodoo witch. Yet I found them peaceful, using them to take quiet walks whenever the city became too much."

"I get that," you comment and he knows you're telling the truth. He can see it in your eyes, that you've dealt with some hardships in life. He wants to take those away, to never let you be burdened by anything ever again. That terrifies him.

"Here's your drinks," the waitress announces, setting down the red plastic cups in the middle of the table. "I'll be right back with your plates." She's gone again and your quick to grab your water, gulping some down to ease your nerves, he assumes. Alastor takes a sip from his.

"I should probably text Veronica," you say, taking out your phone. "I totally forgot about her for moment." As you mess with the annoying hand held thing, Alastor can't help but feel a bit proud. He had caused you to forget about her, your focus only on him. It made him strangely happy.

Happy.

No. What was he doing, acting like some school boy? He was a powerful Overlord, for Hell's sake. A wretched demon who tore apart any who defied him, devouring them and basking in their screams. He sent fear shivering down the spines of all who unluckily crossed his path. To you, he would - he… He sighs inwardly.

Who was he kidding? Whatever it was you were doing to him, no matter how much it angered him with the way his dead heart felt, he wasn't going to stop it. Alastor had already decided, soul or not, that you were his.

Now he just needed you to make the wish, so that you could never escape him, even in death.

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf

Phew! So long, again, so sorry, but hope you dear readers enjoyed! Comment below to get added to the taglist and, as always, see you all in the next chapter!