Steampunk AU: Alastor x Reader (Our Little Game)

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It wasn't as though Hell didn't change with the rest of the world. And so, when the people on earth collapsed into a crisis and new residents came into the gates of purgatory, they brought their changes with them. Now almost all of Hell was a wasteland of scraps, gears, and failed inventions. Blimps passed the skies every day, droids and shabby built robots of tin and bronze were built as assistants/servants, and scrap metal became the new soul and heart of their home.

You, a late arrival of the Victorian Era, stood above it all. You were an ingenious inventor, who's inventions functioned in a near lifelike manner. Everything you created, down to the smallest gadgets and sparks, had a purpose. And that purpose was keeping your place among the overlords of Hell. Protecting your territory and making it clear that you weren't a being to be taken lightly. They built your empire from the ground up, to the very mansion you lived in. It was a vast space brimmed with steam, metaphysical objects, and gages. The most notable being the giant vintage clock in the center top of the building. It was an empire of metal and oil that gushed smoke into the air and settled a dark polluted fog over the area. Factories surrounded the base, where people worked relentlessly and under an iron fist. It was your domain.

You typically kept your distance from other overlords, wary of letting any other powerful being too close within your vicinity, but upon the discovery of a certain suave and cheesy radio host, an exception was made to this rule. It had startled you when you walked out in nothing but your night gown one morning to find him sitting on the couch, as though you'd been expecting each other.

His grin, sinister and sharp, widened upon seeing you enter the room. "Hello, darling. I believe we are long overdo for a chat."

It was mind boggling how quickly you whipped out a 110% voltmeter gun and aimed it at his head. It made a 'zing' as electric charge rushed to the front to be released. Alastor's eyes shot open and he dived over and behind the couch, just as it fired out... effectively disintegrating the couch in front of him.

He raised his hands up in surrender and laughed, "Now, now, I don't believe that's any way to treat a guest!"

"Oh? Funny. I don't remember inviting you." You shot back with malice, gun locked onto him and practically daring him to make a wrong move.

You recognized him without trouble. There had been talk of a new powerful being in Hell, and rumors of how quickly he'd toppled others who had held territory and dominance for centuries. It was somewhat chilling, as you had heard the screams and gut wrenching cries that he provoked over the old radio in your room. Creepier still was that it had turn on by itself and wouldn't turn back off until you resorted to smashing the thing. Posters of this being had been put up everywhere, telling others to 'beware'.

The demon, not too troubled by the weapon aimed at him, leaned on his microphone casually. "Hear me out, sweetheart. The names Alastor! I merely came to meet my neighbor and offer up a business proposition."

"Neighbor?" You repeated numbly.

"Why, yes! I've taken residence just next to your territory recently." He informed, smile widening.

You paled a bit; Sir Pretentious had his territory next to yours. Did... that mean Alastor disposed of him?! You didn't ask, too wary of what having such a dark and powerful figure so close by could mean for you.

"Now, if you would please lower the gun, madam... After all~" He cocked his head, pupils shrinking into thin radio dials that writhed erratically in his eyes as if in a frenzy, and gave a look that practically screamed homicide. "I doubt it would do you any good."

Your mouth parted, staring like a deer stuck in headlights, before with a glare you lowered the gun. You didn't drop it completely, however, keeping it snug in your hands.

"And to what do I owe the 'pleasure' of this visit? Come to overthrow me as well?"

Alastor's expression reverted back to normal, eyes returning to a more normal and less intimidating state as he laughed delightedly. "Not at all, darling~! I simply have some things I wish to discuss with you. You see, I've only been here a few months. Granted, it's been some of the best months of my existence! But... I would like to have someone to speak to concerning the nature of this place. There seems to be a sort of political game between you and the others, and I would love to learn how to play~"

You looked at him, confused. He was here because he wanted to learn more about Hell's whacked up social hierarchy? Was that it? Your frowned a bit. It didn't seem too far fetched. Even you, with as much power and control as you'd attained over the years, knew there was a certain befuddling power-struggle tradition stemmed from the royal family and Hell's history that could not be rivaled. Perhaps Alastor was looking for a quicker way to learn of and insert himself into this group of powerful beings.

He seemed earnest in that he wasn't going to attack you, and you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. "You just want to talk?"

"Yes, I believe I just said that."

After a moment, you reluctantly caved. "Alright... but let me dress into something more modest first."

Alastor looked at what you were wearing, confused, before the radio demon's expression took understanding and flushed a sudden scarlet with embarrassment. To him, the gown you were wearing was perfectly fine... but from the perspective of someone from the Victorian Era, you were practically in your underwear.

He averted his eyes and coughed. "Ah- Yes... My bad."

You looked at his sudden reaction with amusement, given how he went from being sinister to utterly embarrassed. When you returned later, it was in a full dress with a tightly fashioned corset and leather cuffs and buckles across the sleeves. You found Alastor seated at the long dining table and called to some of your machines to bring you both tea. Every tin guard was heavily armored and carried a weapon, standing dead-like but nonetheless watchfully. It made you wonder how Alastor got past them in the first place, given you'd created hundreds that stood stoically around your territory, prepared to disintegrate trespassers.

As the tea was served, you looked up at him pointedly. "Sugar?"

"If you don't mind, my dear."

You took a little copper canister with a key in the back, and began winding it up. Alastor watching you with confusion, before you released it. The little canister sprang to life, up on thin wire legs like a spider, and skittered across the table. It took the spoon from its head and scooped two into his tea before turning around.

Alastor grabbed it before it could leave, watching as it's little legs moved spastically. "Darling, did you make all of these?"

"Yes... but it seems they must not have been working to their intended potential, given that you got in." You struck a glare at one of tin guards against the wall, and the light bulb within its carved out sockets dimmed slightly in nervous response.

"My apologies for the intrusion. I may or may not have dismantled a few of your... toys... before getting here." He said in a tone that was more humored than sorry.

Your expression became unamused, but you let it slide. It seemed you were going to need to find ways to adapt to your new neighbor and his unpredictable nature. Impression was everything. You took a sip of your tea, then looked him in the eyes. "You said you wanted me to inform you on the history and general 'rules' of Hell's elite circle. What would you like to know?"

Alastor grinned at you with elation, sinister and sadistically enthralled.

"Everything~"

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