𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ★Alastor x fem! reader★🥀

(✡SPECIAL BONUS CHAPTER #4✡)

ZESTIAL SLEEPS SOUNDLY in his large king-sized bed, curled on his side with a hand tucked under his face with a medium sized black velvet pillow wrapped in his free arm.

Black scented candles are burning on his nightstand which excrete a potent smell of spices, and off in the corner, a soft radio plays a scratchy tune to fill the silence in the air.

Zestial always needs some sort of ambience to soothe his weary soul and make him slumber. It makes him feel a little bit closer to home, due to growing up in a small household where his mother would always sing, either to herself, or to her children when they couldn't sleep.

So, that little piece of familiarity he finds through a specific radio station that tends to play the classics that Zestial grew up listening to. 

At least Hell is kind enough to grant some privileges that aren't addiction filled.

At this hour, everything is slowly coming to be still, where little to nothing can be heard or seen. No demons. No bloodshed. Nothing at all.
Hell is finally coming to rest for another night.

Except, that is, a single child...whose cries immediately yank Zestial out of his carnage filled dreams, forcing him to quickly sit up and leap out of bed in a half-asleep daze, running headfirst to where the problem may be.

Post trauma from all the wars he's been through...hearing a sudden scream, it sends a jolt of adrenaline pulsing through his veins.

But the dosage is double now, since the very cries he hears is coming from none other than his only daughter.
Within ten steps, Zestial is at the door to your room, and in the blink of an eye, he opens it.

Your room is decorated to resemble that of what a child's room would look like. Though of course, every child is different.
And when it comes to Zestial's daughter, your room is stone walls with paintings and tapestries of creatures such as spiders and majestic white deers surrounding the room, to add a bit of color to a rather dull place.

On the floor lays a red throw rug that's been ruffled from playing. In the corner is a small chest that overflows with little hand-carved, painted wooden dolls--the gentlemens--and hand-sewn, pieced together ragdolls--the ladies.

Beside the large window that overlooks the entire Pride Ring is a small bed fit for a child, and hiding underneath the bed with the blankets to her face as she whimpers...

Zestial exhales a soft breath of relief when realization dawns on him.
You aren't in any danger, and you aren't hurt...it was simply a nightmare.

Nightmares seem to be a common thing in this family, it makes Zestial's heart feel a little heavier, knowing his only baby has to endure the terror of imaginary monsters. 

If possibly, Zestial would take hold of his sword, and enter every one of your dreams and make it his mission to slay each ghoul, werewolf, ghost or goblin, whatever that frightens you.

Though such an action is out of his reach, and the only thing he can do in such a moment when a child feels vulnerable...is offer a comforting hand.

"Y/N, darling," Zestial enters your bedroom, gently shutting the door behind him as he makes his way across the stone floor, bending a knee to peak under the blanket, and see your small face filled with the expression of terror and confusion.