Imagine 26: My Darling Doe🌸

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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.

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