𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ★Alastor x fem! reader★🥀

Ch. II ✡Zestial✡

THE SOUND OF A BELL ringing pulls you from your much needed slumber, forcing your eyes to crack to see the small imp demoness standing in your doorway, ringing the little golden bell with her right hand.

Your servant, Helena. A short demoness with orange skin and black hair, her eyes holding a yellow color while she wears a little servant's dress.

"Good morning, Lady Y/N," the servant does a curtsy to show her respect, "Master Zestial awaits your arrival in the kitchen."

You sit up. With how late you came back home last night, you didn't have the chance to speak to your father about how you managed to sway Alastor into allowing you to offer your services at the hotel.

Zestial must be awfully curious to see your results.

You nod, and with a wave of dismiss to your servant, you leap out of bed and slip on your normal day-to-day outfit, attaching your cloak and slipping your black gloves on before you make your way down the steps and into the wide, clean kitchen.

In the kitchen is a large table, though only two chairs stand across from each other.

One which is occupied by your father.

His eyes stare down at the white and silver table, his hand holding a small teacup to his lips as he slurps his tea, his clawed pinky finger sticking out. Table manners...your father was very firm when it came to proper table manners. No elbows on the table, posture straight, and your words delivered with no stutters and with clarity.

You inhale a breath, nodding your head. "Morning to thee, father," you say, making your way to the chair that is across from your tall, slender, spider demon of a father. Sitting by him, you can't help but always feel so small compared to him. Yes, you are shorter than him by a couple feet, but it's not the height that makes you feel small, it's mostly the energy, the intimidation he casts out upon anyone who stands near him.

You never used to feel like that when you were a child, this only just began for you. Though honestly, you wish it wasn't true. A daughter should feel comfortable around the man who is her father...not intimidated, or small.

His four luminous lime green eyes meet yours, a little smile cracking in his stoic expression, revealing the inside of his mouth. No fangs...merely a luminous green color. Which is surprising, due to the fact that nearly all demons have fangs down here. Well, except for you. Your teeth are as straight as an arrow and a bright white, something that was passed down to you from your mother's side.

"Morning to thee as well, my daughter," he says, his voice echoing and low, delivering his words through a faint hiss like a spider. "Art thou well rested?"

You nod, before your father raises one of his large black hands. "What morning meal will suffice?" he asks, his gaze lingering on your face. You ponder this for a moment, before responding, saying a simple bowl of oatmeal is enough for you today.

Your father grins as you hear the snap of his fingers, and arriving in front of you is a steaming bowl of oatmeal with some sprinkled sugar on top, and a spoon hovering beside it.

You can't help but smile a little. Your father always makes sure that your breakfast is never a stale or unsatisfying one. So, if you ever request a bowl of fruit slices, he will add yogurt and granola. If you request French toast, he will add powder sugar on top with syrup and crushed nuts. And your personal favorite, if you request eggs and bacon, he will add just the right amount of herbs and spices, along with your favorite slice of bread beside it, and some complimentary slices of tomatoes and sprinkled cheese bits.

You almost requested eggs and bacon this morning, though at the last minute you realized that a breakfast like that would weigh too heavy in your stomach, and so you settled with a small bowl of oatmeal. You are going to have quite the productive day, after all, you need to feel energized and light on your feet.