#this is coming from a aroace and I would just like to say that yes we can fall in love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bindeds · 3 months

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╭ 𝜗𝜚﹔ᵎᵎ acknowledging his aromanticism & asexuality. ALASTOR X FEM READER HEADCANONS ! — i know alastor is aroace BUT i am challenging myself to make a more aroace friendly post about our best man. this post contains SLIGHT nsfw (he doesn’t take part in it physically and is quite unattached!)

gif creds go to @sakuhai !

mlist. request status.

since being aroace is a spectrum i’d like to imagine that with the life he led and the horrible things he did in hell, it was just never possible for him to fall for anyone and vice versa

but of course that all fell apart when you came along.

you had to be the one to open up about it first, and you know this from the way everyone was more aware of his sexuality than even he was. of course, if he were to, by some miracle, return your feelings, he would still be aroace considering the definition of those terms are ‘an individual who experiences little to no romantic or sexual attraction,’ but if anything that just meant that the chances of him even feeling anything for you is MUCH slimmer than compared to many others’.

but yes, come to think of it, even if Alastor had been invading your personal space the way he usually does with everyone in the hotel, he didn’t mind when you did the exact same for him, always leaning or touching his shoulders or pulling him along by the hand if you were excited to show him something. It was an odd feeling when he’d come to realize this during your confession.

“care to dance?” he would say, extending a gentle hand towards you right after your confession. you took it without much thought and slow music began to play seemingly from his mic, but it felt like the music had been hugging the both of you together as you swayed in tandem.

seeing as alastor was touch-repulsed, of course it puzzled you to have his hand so firm on your waist as the other held up your own, but then you realize something, and you asked to confirm it. “Did you like to dance like this when you were still alive?”

“Oh of course dear, I was quite the gentleman in my youth, but you already know that,” you followed his rhythm like you and him were one in the same, and he spun you around before having both your hands meet his own.

“will you give me time, darling?”

and of course, you were happy to give whatever time he needed. Though he didn’t need much because he’s simply never felt this way before. He’d come to terms with it quite early in his life that it’s simply not one of the ‘pleasures’ he’d get to experience in both his lifetime as a living being and as a demon. But he knew this was different. You felt different.

even more different than all the friends he had, and he was very aware of the fact that about 95% of his friends were women, and none of them came close to giving him the feeling you did with that dance and your general being, and alastor has danced with many, many women.

nonetheless, you picked a very difficult man to be with. very difficult indeed. he knew this, and you knew this. so as any normal man would he came back to you with what seemed to be his own terms and conditions.

1 : do not, under any circumstance, expect him to be open to sexual intimacy. he’s only just found out that he is, in fact, capable of experiencing romantic attraction even though it took dying and MANY years of being a heartless cannibal, sadist and murderer for him to find it, all of which contributes to just how overwhelming this is as it is. just thinking about the sexual aspect is something he’d rather not add to the juggle pile. 2 : he will be bad at this, and you’ve no choice but to accept that. he might have seen these types of things play out multiple times throughout both lifetimes, but theory and practice are two very different things, and it just doesn’t come naturally to him. So if you can’t be patient with him, he would completely understand and break it off immediately.

other than that, he will do anything in his power to make you happy. and of course, you agreed to these terms without hesitation and without shaking his hand—heavens, he couldn’t do that to you … unless you wanted him to own your soul.

seeing as you’ve had a long talk about your arrangement with him, he respectfully calls you his partner. you first thought that maybe he would want to start with dates first, but then he looked you in the eye and you remembered every single night he would just leave the hotel for you at 2am in the morning without notice, pick you up and grab the most horrendous food ever. alastor never even complained that you didn’t try freshly killed limbs and you never questioned him back. those were dates enough for you.

you ask him about his preferences anyway, and he says that one of the deciding factors for him was that you wouldn’t even be able to imagine the things he’d do to anyone who tried to have you if you two were in some sort of mutual agreement instead of an official relationship. of course, you had no problem with being his, so off you two went.

nothing much changed besides the much more frequent visits over at yours. but then also, a lot has changed because of the more frequent visits.

he tried normal food once for your sake, didn’t like it, wasn’t used to it, but he liked that he made you smile when he spat it out in the end. and on the contrary, he didn’t ask you to try cannibalism, and appreciated the fact that you’d gotten used to him eating in front of you with all the gore and flies laid out before the both of you.

another thing that changed was his oral hygiene. it was absolutely horrendous, but spending many evenings in your room and seeing you get ready for bed has alastor getting used to the ‘brushing teeth’ scene, so, like the food, he tries it for your sake. it wasn’t so bad, but it fixed basically nothing seeing as he eats nothing but raw meat and demon limbs for all three meals of the day. but, he did it every other day, and there was actually a lighter shade of yellow in his teeth by the end of the month.

he gets you flowers and your favorites every now and then for no reason at all. in his words, “it is absolutely absurd to be celebrating our very special relationship on just one day every year. and you don’t ask for much, so i thought i’d help myself to being the reason i get to see that radiant smile of yours, dove.”

he slept over at your place once. it wasn’t an active decision he’d made, it was just one of those nights when he came to visit and instead of leaving at the usual time, you asked him to stay and he did. you were in bed and talking to him about a book you had just gotten into and he made the mental note of reading it himself when he had the time. he saw how blissful you were in the sheets and took of his coat to settle next to you. the conversation was like any other he’d usually have with you, sprinkled in with sadistic jokes and laughter, but the night was different as he drifted off not long after you had.

if you ever had to get kicked out from your place for whatever reason, alastor would check you into the hazbin hotel, no questions asked despite how much of a bad idea it was. god, just the thought of others finding out made him grind his teeth.

he wasn’t ashamed of you by any means, but it was more of the fact that he knew no one would be normal about this. alastor, the radio demon has a heart after all. and that heart was you. and you were beating with beauty and blood and gentle patience he absolutely didn’t deserve. so he talked to you, and you understood the situation and agreed to be referred to as his friend.

if alastor ever does anything sexual with you, it would definitely be when he senses through little subtle hints that you’re pent up. he tries to ignore it for a while but he brings it up one day, asking if it would help if you masturbated while he was in the room. you were embarrassed, of course, but seeing as alastor was ace this was already a big step from him, so you accepted.

by this time, alastor would have visited you enough to have seen you naked once or twice, all by accident, but he didn’t have much of a reaction seeing as neither of you made physical contact with each other, you were okay with it and none of it had any sexual intentions behind it.

and so he watched you. he watched you with that devilish smile of his, and when you were sweating and panting and close, he walked towards you and held your chin up to him as you continued to get off towards your climax.

“are you thinking of me, my dear?” he whispered, his voice sounding more muffled as the stereo effect doubled. you were afraid to say yes. afraid that that was a boundary of his you were crossing. but then he says, “if anything gets you going, let it be me, my love.”

and of course, you came.

you asked if he was uncomfortable and he said, “heavens no, darling! i would never back out on my word, especially if it is one i gave to you. nothing is sacred, but every night, our bond whispers to be. so if there is a way help you with your sexual urges without making my skin crawl, then i am more than happy to oblige.”

#alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #◟𓂅 𓄹 splash zone.#( ✮ hazbin. )#( ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 hazbin hcs. )

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cod-z · 2 months

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[NSFW 18+] Pegging Series (Anon Reveal)

Your media consumption isn't my responsibility | TW: NSFW 18+, Title itself explanatory

Pairing(s): John 'Soap' MacTavish x Stoic!Reader

| One-shots | A/N: My anon reveal and brain-rot. For those who knows said story, yes, I am THAT anon from said blog

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Johnny has a thing for Stoic!Reader because of the mystery behind them, always keeping a poker face even in dire situation and the strong, powerful aura that reader has but it's also reassuring. A mix between Price and Ghost the stern yet comforting from Gaz.

Johnny knocking on stoic!reader's door because Price had asked him to get the paperworks that were needed but ends up just stammering towards reader because the way reader speaks is so emotionless and stern, it sends him into a horny frenzy-

Finally telling stoic!reader what Price wanted, reader dismisses him but he doesn't leave and just stands there like a sweet, lost puppy and who is totally not horny or anything because reader is only in a black tank top and their cargo pants while reader does paperwork.

Stoic!Reader casually staring at Johnny because he hasn't left and asks if there is anything else.

Johnny stutters as he tries to explain that Price, Ghost and Gaz were getting ready for a mission, clenching onto the documents, trying to ask a certain question because poor pup was going to be alone for quite awhile but ends up silencing himself and leaving. 'Cause why would reader do that for him if reader was aroace? (again, sue me).

Not even 2 weeks in when the other three were gone. Johnny pathetically asks Stoic!Reader if they could fuck him.

Stoic!reader who wanted to say 'no' till they saw the twitching outline of Johnny's bulge and felt a twinge of pity for Johnny boy and sighs.

Stoic!reader who says 'yes' but only on one condition which makes Johnny happy, though the next day Johnny was now on his hands and knees with stoic!reader prepping his rim to take in the strap-on they bought online together (Johnny totally didn't get the overnight shipping).

Johnny is already a squirming mess as he came twice already from being prepped by reader. Reader obviously not done with Johnny, had already put the big, girthy, bumpy strap-on, on already and grabs him roughly by his mohawk. Rubbing the plastic-rubber against his weeping cock gathering the cum and proceeds to rub coated strap-on onto his ass, slicking it up before pushing it to the hilt.

Pathetic whining moans leaves Johnny's lips as he's drilled onto Stoic!Reader's bed like reader hates him, shocking Johnny at the full force that comes from reader's frame, he never would've guessed reader would have it in them to be this way. Letting him orgasm in this position twice before doing it once missionary.

Johnny already an overstimulated little pup on stoic!reader's bed, crying from too much pleasure and was ready to give out, to fucked out to even help reader orgasm. But don't worry, reader already had a plan for that.

Stoic!Reader pushing Johnny's legs up, stroking the tip of his cock before guiding it into reader's hole making poor Johnny weep from overstimulation, pain and pleasure. Knees behind Johnny's ass while holding his legs up as reader fucks down onto him, closing in on their own orgasm and Johnny building up his, what? 5th? 7th orgasm? He doesn't know.

Neither of the two hearing the sound of multiple boots hitting the floor nearing reader's barracks. The door opening as both Johnny and Reader orgasms at the same time.

Johnny looks weakly at the other three with a smile, who stared at Stoic!Reader in shock, Reader's expression remains stoice but as their eyes trailing down the three men's body already seeing their growing bulge, stoic!reader gives a small smirk and removes themselves from Johnny (who totally didn't pass out).

Well shit. Price, Ghost and Gaz later on couldn't remember that reader smirked at them, nor did the four remember that reader pecked their foreheads as they all lay together, asleep, after being fucked and looked after by reader.

Stoic!reader who finishes changing, closes the door quietly letting their four boys sleep. Till next time.

#cod z #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #cod x you #modern warfare x reader #call of duty fanfiction #cod fanfic #johnny x y/n #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x reader sm #johnny x reader smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #x reader

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bishopsbeloved · 4 months

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the art of falling in love (part three)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

read this fic on ao3!

But that awful feeling doesn’t go away… quite the contrary, it grows and grows. It’s a dark and hidden part of you, diseased, something you seek desperately to rid yourself of — but it only festers and worsens with the more time you spend with your love.

Yet being away from her is out of the question. The feeling only worsens whenever you’re away from her; an unbridled monster that dwells deep within the caverns of your chest, and bursts out at the most inopportune of moments. A tiny voice in the back of your head warns you that you’re turning into someone unrecognisable. You ignore it. Because you finally have the girl of your dreams, Natasha Romanoff, the one you’ve loved as long as you can remember.

“Whoever is this mystery girl you are dating, I do not like her,” Yelena says to you one day. It’s about a month now since the catastrophic spring break party at Tony’s house, and five months since the New Year’s party which began this whole mess. The two of you have been tasked with slicing vegetables for Melina, who is bustling busily around the stove. When Yelena speaks you have to physically pause to process her words, for fear you may otherwise slice straight through your own flesh as if it were another carrot.

“Mystery girl?” says Melina interestedly. “I did not know there was a mystery girl. How did I miss this? Y/N, sweetheart, you have a mystery girl and you have not brought her home yet?”

You glare at Yelena, and she smiles sweetly back.

“Nothing serious, ma,” you say to Melina as levelly as you can before turn to Yelena. “What do you mean, you don’t like her?” you ask, resuming your vegetable cutting. You try to ignore the shake of your hands and the beat of your heart. “You don’t even know who she is.” You hope, anyway.

She shrugs nonchalantly, as if she were discussing the weather rather than the affairs of your heart. “I don’t have to, to not like how she makes you feel. You are so different now, I do not like it. You are all sad and quiet and far away.”

“No I’m not,” you say in a small voice, fighting to hold back a tremble. You can only imagine the words she’d be saying if she knew it was her sister she was talking about.

“Yes, see!” says Yelena triumphantly, like you’ve just proven her point. “I say one thing and you are about to cry. Before you would hit me and we would be done.”

“You should not waste time on anyone who doesn’t treat you right, my sweet heart,” says Melina more tactfully, setting down her wooden spoon to cup your face in her gentle weathered hands. “You deserve the world. Find someone who gives you it.”

Your eyes do well up after she says that, and you have to turn away and blink rapidly so that Yelena doesn’t give you one of her knowing looks. To her credit, if she sees, she doesn’t say anything.

But Melina’s words weigh heavy on you, even after the conversation moves on — as though they’ve placed a physical burden upon your shoulders. They echo in your mind as you excuse yourself from the conversation and trudge upstairs, past the door of the very one they’re unknowingly warning you of. They play on repeat even as you’re beckoned into the bedroom of your secret paramour, who tells you to lock the door behind you. She’s sat on her bed, watching a Bond movie on her laptop, mouthing along to every word like she usually does.

“C’mere,” she says to you, patting the space between her legs. You obey wordlessly, sitting down between them with your back against her chest. Her arms wrap around you, tugging you closer, and her chin settles comfortably on your shoulder.

“Missed you,” she mumbles, sending shivers down your spine even as your troubled mind dwells on Mama Melina’s words.

You deserve the world, she repeats to you as Natasha begins to drop kisses along your neck, and you shift involuntarily in her lap. She groans and bucks up against you.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs against the skin of your collarbone, tugging at your shirt to trail her kisses lower. Natasha is your world, you think to yourself. And when she gives herself to you in moments like this, who are you to say it’s not enough? You remind yourself to be grateful every day that she sees fit to give you anything, to engage with you at all after she’s been so out of reach your entire life.

So as her kisses become lower and more insistent, you submit yourself to her completely, willing to do whatever pleases her. Because she is your world, and you would do anything for her — for better or for worse.

Unfortunately for you, though, Yelena does not seem to be the only one who’s noticed a shift in your behaviour.

Prom isn’t for another six or seven weeks, but already your classmates have begun the most over the top promposals you could think of, with each trying to outdo the last. It was only a few days ago that Bucky Barnes asked Steve Rogers to prom by writing “PROM?” on his back in sunscreen and then laying in the sun until the rest of him burnt. Rumour has it he tore off his shirt in front of their whole homeroom like some budget Superman knockoff. (Rumour also has it that Steve said yes. You’re not quite sure what to make of that.) (Well, at least you don’t have to worry about Bucky and Natasha anymore?) The halls are filled with hushed whispers of who might ask who next, and what methods they might choose to do so. And naturally, with Darcy being one of your closest friends, it is literally all you hear about when you are on the school premises.

…and Loki Laufeyson tells me Vision is thinking of asking you to prom, Wanda, Darcy signs triumphantly. You and your friend group are huddled around a table in the corner of the school library, supposedly studying, but with prom on the way that was never gonna happen. (The school librarian, Ms Harkness, is deathly serious about her no noise rules, but naturally as a friend group with a Deaf person in it that doesn’t really apply to you, so you often find yourselves in here.)

Since when were you on such good terms with Loki? asks Makkari with sceptically narrowed eyes.

Since the Stark party at Easter, comes Darcy’s confident reply. We did a science fair project together and now we’re totally friends. And they are very sure Vision has something planned.

I wouldn’t take it too seriously if it’s Loki telling you that, Wanda says dryly. They love to gossip. I don’t know Vision Stark, I’ve barely ever spoken to him. He kinda runs in the opposite way whenever he sees me.

He’s nervous, Darcy tells her knowingly. The guy’s scared of his own shadow, but he’s not too bad once he relaxes a bit. Give him a chance, I think you’d really like him. And also he apparently has neared a state of cardiac arrest several times trying to pluck up the courage to ask you out.

Wanda hums, and chews on her lip thoughtfully.

And you, Y/N, Darcy turns her gaze onto you now, you’ve had nothing going on for months. Have you got your eye on anyone?

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you shake your head no. I’m content where I am now, you say, which isn’t really a lie. Because you are happy. Right?

Darcy only shrugs before turning to Yelena, who is sat next to you while she gazes out of the window, zoned out as she often is whenever talk turns to romance. You nudge her gently with your foot and she turns, blinking out of her daydream. “Hmm? What—?”

“Shhh,” you all remind her instantly, as Ms Harkness’s head snaps up from the paperwork she was just bent over at her desk.

Sorry, Yelena rectifies hastily. What’s up?

Prom, you inform her, biting back a laugh at the way her face comically drops into one that’s very unamused.

I know you and Bishop didn’t work out, but do you have anyone else who might ask you to prom?

You look over at your best friend anxiously. Yelena has not really come out to anyone, only casually mentioning her aromanticism over dinner, to which Melina and Alexi barely batted an eyelid. Darcy does not seem to be picking up on the hints, though.

If anyone asked me, I would say no , Yelena tells her bluntly . I don’t do that stuff. Me and Y/N go together. Right, Y/N?

With matching outfits, you add helpfully.

We are going to serve, Yelena agrees, and the two of you low-five.

You can tell Darcy has more questions, but before she can press either of you any further the bell rings, signalling the end of free period. The four of you get to your feet, piling belongings back into your bags, and Makkari follows your example once she sees what you’re doing.

You end up falling behind at the back of the group, with Wanda next to you. She’s looking at you curiously, as though she’s seeing right through you, and you fidget uncomfortably.

Are you sure you’re happy? she asks you. The question hits you like a punch to the gut. Because you have not seemed it, lately.

You nod and smile weakly at her, and to her credit she pushes no further, but much like Melina’s words it weighs heavy on your mind long after she’s forgotten about it. You are happy, aren’t you? You are. You are happy. You have the girl of your dreams, for fuck’s sake. Of course you’re happy.

And that’s true, for the most part. You’re happy when you’re with her — and when you can switch your brain off around her, instead of pining what more you could have. Because this is all you have. All you’ll ever have. And every day you wake up, fearing that this is the day she’ll end whatever is between you, and cast you aside like the doll she’s done playing with.

But you must not seem that happy to other people, because it’s only a few hours later that you are questioned yet again — this time by Sam Wilson, who it is considerably more difficult to be upset with.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he calls down the hall as he spots you, awkwardly half-running to catch up with you. Last period has just ended, and you’re making your way to the science lab that you know Yelena just had a class in. You smile at him when you recognise him, and slow down until he matches your pace. Since that night he helped you out at the party the two of you have been talking a lot more, and you’ve found yourself really enjoying his company. You’ve never really been too good at making friends — if you didn’t have Yelena, your other half, you don’t know what you’d do — but things seem to come naturally with him. He’s very calming to be around, and he never makes you feel as though you’re supposed to be something that you’re not.

“What’s up, Wilson?” you greet him.

“I gotta bone to pick with you,” he says with half-hearted annoyance, even as he grins at you. You blink up at him in quiet confusion. “How come you stood me up yesterday night? You said you’d meet me out by the east block and you left me hangin’. We were supposed to go to Boulevard, remember?”

You groan and tilt your head back as you realise he’s right. The two of you have recently picked up a habit of hanging out at the arcade on the Boulevard after school for a couple nights a week. (He’s a beast at Donkey Kong, and you will never in your life be able to beat his high score, but you always manage to put up a good fight when you versus in Mortal Kombat.)

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“Are you sure?” he asks jokingly. “Cause you skipped out on the one before that too.”

“I’m really sorry,” you weakly offer. “I just…” Well, what the fuck kind of excuse are you supposed to offer? I’m sorry, my secret girlfriend slash love of my life will only spend time with me in private because she’s ashamed of me? “…I don’t know. I’ve kinda been all over the place lately. Sorry.”

“Yeah, no shit. What’s going on, man, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, and you’re horrified at the moment at that your voice trembles. “No, I’m good. Seriously. Just stressed for finals,” you try tentatively, and you’re relieved at the way he just nods sympathetically.

“Well if you need a distraction, I’m free tonight,” he offers hopefully. You instinctively open your mouth to deny him, but when you see the way he’s poised and ready to accept your inevitable denial you pause guiltily. Why are you saying no and standing him up if he’s your friend? Your alternate itinerary for tonight is sitting around annoying Yelena and hoping that Nat will want to spend time with you tonight. This sounds way more fun.

A distraction. A distraction from the feeling clawing at your insides, which won’t let you sleep at night until you get that goodnight text.

“A distraction sounds good,” you say, and he grins back at you. Only a moment later Yelena’s class comes flooding out of the science lab, and your beloved blonde Russian approaches you. You’re glad to see she’s recovering some of the usual bounce in her step, after last month’s mishap.

“Come on, Natasha is giving us a ride,” she tells you excitedly, offering Sam a brief nod.

“Actually, can you tell her make my own way home? Me and Sam are hitting the Boulevard.”

“Alright. But if you win enough tickets can you get me that stuffed otter they have in the window,” she asks hopefully, and beams when you nod. “You are the best. And don’t forget to call Ma if you won’t be home till late, or —”

“She’ll have a heart attack, I know,” you say patiently. “Love you.”

Natasha probably won’t even notice you’re gone. She won’t mind.

Famous last words.

Sam ends up dropping you home, and the two of you stop by a fast food place on your way, so you’re not home until ten. You stumble into the house with bleary eyes and a bug-eyed, oversized otter tucked under your arm, but a heart fuller than it’s been in a long while, and a smile on your face to match. That smile is quickly wiped off of your face as you turn around and lock eyes with Natasha, who is sat on the top of the stairs. She’s evidently waited up for you.

“Hi. Is Lena still up? I won this for her.” You hold up the otter lamely.

She shrugs, a gesture so small you nearly miss it in the half-light. “I don’t know.” Late at night when she’s tired, tinges of Russian begin to creep back into her otherwise perfectly ironed American accent — she always scowls and makes an effort to fix it whenever you point it out, but to you it’s adorable. It’s like an ever so slight glimpse into the real Natasha, the one who makes you heart-shaped pancakes and remembers the names of all your favourite movies. And in the months that are passing in your relationship you feel like you’re seeing that side to her less and less.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly after a few moments. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah?” you say uncertainly. This feels like a trap. “Y— uh, yeah, I did, thank you.” You swallow, hard, as a pit opens up in your stomach. “Are… are we okay?”

She hesitates. “Are you happy?”

“Huh?”

“With me. When you’re with me. Do you have fun like you did tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is small and quiet. “I— I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She’s silent. Like she doesn’t even know what she wants from you. Cautiously, gingerly, you speak again.

“I had fun tonight in a way that I can’t with you,” you say carefully. “You never want to spend time with me unless we’re alone. I don’t really know what we are, I know we’re not dating, but it feels… I don’t know.” You pause for a second, and your next words sound uncertain of themselves. “It feels like… you’re ashamed of me.”

The words are finally out of your mouth, at long last. For a moment it’s like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, but it comes crashing back town twice as heavy when you see the be way your words physically crush her.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” she whispers. “I’m not… I just…” And then she says something so quiet that even as you strain you can’t catch it. “Um. Don’t worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And while you do see her in the morning, nothing is the same. So you’re once again the bigger person in this relationship, the one taking care of her (and you’d do it forever, of course), and you give her exactly what you know she needs — some space, and some time. You’re not really sure what’s going through her head right now (you never are, to be honest), but what you do know is that she’d hate to feel smothered as she figures it out for herself. She’s more similar to her sister than she’d like to think. It’ll be okay, you tell yourself. You’ll give her what you know she needs, because sometimes you know her better than she knows herself, and trust that when she’s ready she’ll come to you.

But she doesn’t, and things are rocky between you and your love in the time that passes. Since the night you came home from the arcade, she’s been almost avoiding you. No more good morning or goodnight texts, no secret movie dates in her room, no more stargazing on the rooftop or late night drives. With every day that you wake up and meet her vacant gaze at the breakfast table you lose a little more hope. The end is nigh, you fear; the thing you’ve known all along, the fact that you were just a toy to her that she’ll dispose of when she’s bored, comes creeping back from the distant corner of your mind it was banished to, into the forefront — and you see it everywhere you go. In every tight-lipped look and sleepless night you pray for the end of this purgatory, whether that comes in the form of her embrace or her denial; anything but this wretched liminal space. This in-between where you don’t feel human to her.

Prom night rolls around. You and Yelena have indeed coordinated your outfits, just as planned, and the two of you are going together. (A slight and tiny part of you had hoped that maybe, somehow, Natasha would ask you to prom, and she would be your date. A much bigger part of you knew that would be her idea of purgatory.)

The two of you are carpooling with your friend group to the school, where your prom will be, in a limo that you all pitched in for. Darcy and Jane Foster, Makkari and Druig, and Wanda and Vision are all already piled in when the limo rolls up in front of your house — the last stop before the night truly begins.

“Interesting choice of interior decor,” Yelena muses, taking in the limo’s pink velvet seats and rhinestone-studded handles with thoughtfully narrowed eyes.

“Darcy picked it,” says Wanda monotonously.

She said we had to go all out for prom, Makkari adds with an eyeroll. The two of them earn lighthearted smacks from the target of their teasing.

You aren’t really sure what you’re actually meant to do at prom. Even in the movies, they’re never really very specific about what prom actually entails.

“What do you think we’ll do?” you ask Yelena, as the two of you hand in your coats to the concierge (a member of the student council who looks very stressed).

She snorts. “Judge people’s outfits, get drunk, take photos and dance, I’d say. I guess some people will be hooking up, too.”

“We will,” adds Darcy with a shameless wink as she passes the two of you, being dragged along by Jane. Your cheeks flush slightly, while Yelena sighs in affectionate long-suffering.

“Any updates on your super-secret girlfriend?” Yelena asks, and the usual guilty feeling pricks at your gut. She, of course, hasn’t been told of the conflict, because you’ve told her as little as possible. You don’t trust yourself to not break down out of guilt otherwise.

You try your best to be optimistic at first, but Yelena’s very quickly proven right. As soon as everyone’s arrived you tick off your first scheduled item on the prom itinerary — judging them — and you move swiftly onto the second.

“This tastes like shit,” you grimace as you sip gingerly from the drink Yelena presents you with. She bursts out laughing.

Before long, you’re feeling pleasantly fuzzy, and perfectly willing to embarrass yourself in front of your classmates on the dancefloor — so when Sam Wilson comes up to you proposing that you dance, twitchy as anything and evidently nervous out of his mind, it doesn’t feel as significant to you as it does to him that you accept.

He kisses your cheek when the dance ends, and you flush violently. But when he offers you his arm you take it, and he’s led along to a quiet afterparty back at Wanda’s house. It’s okay, you tell yourself, to be having fun with someone else. Natasha’s shown no interest in you for more than a month. It’s not that you don’t love her, because you do, but you can’t exactly force her to spend time with you, can you? It can’t cause any harm to have some fun with your friends.

But only a little down the road a certain redhead has shut herself in her room, and begins to ask herself why she’s behaved the way that she has.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au

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antimony-medusa · 11 months

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This is verging on discourse, but I have to say, as someone aroace with the emphasis on the aro, it's a trifle disheartening to ever try to look for queerplatonic relationships that look like mine within this fandom. QPRs can cover a broad spectrum of experiences, and it always seems that within MCYT what a QPR looks like has calcified into this one depiction that is very close (but not actually crossing the line) to shipping, just without kissing or sex! With emotional connections that are very similar (but not quite) to romance, hitting many of the same beats. And that just doesn't reflect my experience at all. Personally, I have more fun reading about straight ahead romance than a qpr that hits almost all the same notes, but just doesn't quite go there, that never digs into an aro or ace experience that I recognize, and that is always what I seem to find when I go cruising the tags.

For one thing, QPRs are not just an ace thing, and they definitely don't have to be a sexless thing! You can be aroallo and in a QPR and have sex, or you can be ace and in a QPR and have sex for the sake of your partner, or just for fun! Sex is fun for a lot of ace people, including those in QPRs, and using QPR eternally to mean "sexless" cuts off a large swath of the population that DOES have sex, for whatever reason. And there are tons of ace people who are extremely fine with kissing, including people who are sex adverse, so using a QPR are a shorthand to mean "sexless and also kissless" is only depicting a very narrow slice of the experience.

And QPRs in practice often look very different from romance, including with people who are romance-adverse, and who don't want any of the trappings that normally come with romance (marriage, specific terms like "love" or "darling", metaphors or positioning like "half of my heart" or "soulmate"), and I just never get to see that. A QPR can be two people who sleep in seperate rooms co-parenting a kid! (Or more than two people!) A QPR can be people married together and sharing a bed and holding hands at the movies and calling each other "darling", or it can be people who signed legal paperwork together who call each other "bro", and those are BOTH valid QPRs. But I only ever get to see the one that looks so close to romance that it's alienating to me, while people tell me that I should be happy to be depicted. (I'm not depicted.)

And I'm also frustrated because I have read QPRs that are sharing all the same hallmarks-of-romance-but-no-sex that I would theoretically have a problem with, but they also ring as true to me because people actually talk about what the relationship is and isn't to them, and I go Yes! Not me but I am on a similar wavelength! But so many people just go "QPR" but never unpack the actual ace/aro/aroace experience, so again I'm left with something that is using all the romance and affection tropes that I've come to expect over decades of living in an amonormative society, just slapping a "but it's platonic" on it at the very end. Where's people making assumptions about your relationship that you have to consider whether to correct or not? Where's the inside jokes? Where's the intimacy negotiations and teasing each other about what you want in terms of touch+? Where's the doing life together in a non-romantic way? Where's the epic friendship? Where's the aro experience? (If we're mutuals, you probably write all of these things, and I'm not complaining about you, you're good.)

And it's hard to escape the feeling that at least some of these people are writing QPR because they're afraid of shipping, as I see the tags scroll endlessly by, not because they actually want to depict the a-spec experience.

Some of it is just people not used to writing affection outside of the romance tropes in our society, and some of it is that so many guestures of affection in our society get romance-coded when like, holding hands is not inherently romantic, I know. But sometimes, man, I want to tell people that it's okay to romantically ship, they don't have to keep it platonic, if they're going to write something that is so similar to shipping but has a giant "don't worry, these guys don't fuck" stamped on it.

I don't know, maybe there are even less people like me than I thought. Or maybe the people like me aren't writing fanfiction (lol).

I don't know. QPRs are more varied than they get depicted, and the a-spec experience is special to me and I wish it got written in its diversity. It's frustrating to see only ever one type of QPR, one that is exclusionary to me. I wish I could see the tag and not know exactly what that relationship looked like, or saw something that I felt was strongly influenced by what the characters are, instead of the same sort of sexless romance-lite every time.

#discourse #fandom meta

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cledubs · 5 months

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i really don’t understand how some fantasy high enjoyers don’t see the very obvious metaphor for aromantic denial within baron from the baronies in sophomore year. baron is a nightmare creature that came into existence because riz lied about having a partner so his friends wouldn’t bother him about it? he made up baron when his friends were all talking about the people they wanted to kiss? how is that not aromantic to some people. maybe it’s more obvious to me because i HAVE been in denial about being aro and made up crushes for myself and tried to pretend i had them. just because i felt it was a thing i needed to do, that it was a thing that EVERYONE had to have a crush and that it was normal. how do you see the confrontation between baron and riz as anything other than accepting aromanticism. this thing, his nightmares personified, says to him “the years will go by, and everyone will find someone that matters more to them than you.” as an aro person yeah that’s gotta be up there with the top ten nightmares.

how do you look at this interaction and NOT see an aromantic boy.

(for further elaboration, yes i am aware that aromantic people CAN want to kiss others and hell yeah power to you, i’m just saying that it’s a common thing to not care about kissing/not want to do it)

and another thing with with the fhigh fandom is that like, some people will go through every loophole they can to try and pair up riz anyways. aromantic people CAN be in relationship, of course, but why would people take this specific boy, who has repeatedly expressed distaste in being in a relationship, and ship him with other people. especially since fabian and riz is a common ship. is it because they’re best friends? is it because people value romance over friendship? oh they’re such close friends they must have a thing! it’s so stupid. why is it, that when a character is asexual (riz, being confirmed asexual), people respect that. they don’t often go “oh yeah i know they’re asexual but asexual people can have sex! or want to have sex! it’s a spectrum!”. (that is true, btw, ace people can have sex and all that. but it’s different when allosexual people do it to try and just make up excuses to not treat asexual characters like they’re asexual.) why do i mostly see it done with aromantic people? one of this boy’s biggest fear is people pairing up and leaving him behind. how do you see that as a boy who WANTS to be in a relationship? do you think he WANTS to pair up as well?

just because it’s not been outwardly confirmed and directly said “riz gukgak is aromantic” doesn’t mean that it’s not true, y’know? there’s subtext, there’s symbolism, there’s metaphors, there’s DIRECT REFERENCES TO RIZ NOT LIKING ROMANCE! i don’t really know how people can see him as alloromantic

anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk, this is sam (confirmed aroace) signing off or something

(also some of my non-aro, romance enjoying friends have confirmed that the aro implications are very obvious so clearly it’s not just an aro brain thing to understand)

#sam.post #riz gukgak #fantasy high #i don’t know if this counts as discourse?#maybe it is #it probably counts as a rant #rant #rant post #whenever i see anyone ship riz it makes me explode and shatter into a million tiny pieces #i know most of my followers and mutuals aren’t fantasy high watchers #but if there are fhigh watchers that follow me #and disagree with aro riz #i’m going to be entirely honest i don’t particularly want to interact with you #i’m not going to be like DNI!!!! i can’t really control what you do #but if i see people posting allo riz stuff i will block etc etc #no offence but also kind of offence

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viv-weylin · 1 month

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Some thoughts about Shilo (and a lot of my thoughts about the aromantic reading of him)

Okay, so Shilo has been a character that's been spinning in my head pretty constantly. This isn't going to be organized but rather kind of just. Thoughts.

I see a lot of people interpret Shilo as a purely innocent person who has done no wrong wet cat, and yeah! He is! But the thing is, he's... done wrong. He's a vampire. There's something inherently evil in all vampires, and i believe this misconception stems from people not knowing the vtm lore. In VTM, all vampires have a beast inside of them, and this beast is inherently evil and cruel and animalistic, which is the part that forces vampires to feed. Shilo hasn't frenzied, he's never lost control of this beast but the fact he has one is enough to make him "not purely innocent", I'd argue he thinks he's innocent and hasn't done wrong but keep in mind he has zero hestitation throwing guards to die. He's indirectly killed several times, and that's not really something we can ignore when thinking about shilo.

He's also incredibly manipulative. He has no worries dominating or manipulating people for his own gain, and again, this comes from his sheltered life. This comes from him simply not knowing any better, but even then, this is a major flaw that i feel some people dont think about.

Shilo isn't rapunzel, Rapunzel isn't a killer, and she isn't manipulative with a disregard for people's lives. That is to say Shilo isn't pure evil, but rather, he's a morally grey character. He's killed, and he's manipulated, but you could argue that it came from a place of not knowing any better, but even then, he's still killed and manipulated. Do you see where the interesting moral dichotomy lies? Is he at fault for the evil he does if he doesn't know any better. I just dont like the "purely good" Shilo takes I've seen some people have.

The aromantic stuff:

I think it's rather well known I'm an aroace shilo truther (if im being honest, i have a distaste for armored pheasant to an extent, but that is not what this is about). I feel as if that's a rather crucial part of his character, and it's not unsubstantiated. He quite literally says he's incapable of having romantic feelings, and in the newest episode (i am not caught up, forgive me), I've heard there's more he says that hints towards this aromantic reading. He's had zero interest in romance, and the fact he was bloodbonded to Edward without his consent can have rather interesting implications that I believe could be expanded on. A lot of aromantics know that feeling of being told "I can fix you" or whatever and Shilo parallels it quite well with the experience he has had with Edward. Below is the quote where he says he's incapable of romantic love.

(This is my own personal opinion but I believe his character is also sort of dumbed down once someone ships him with Grefgore. A lot of people did from the get go, and I get and see the appeal but I also think they're better as friends but again, personal opinion and I don't care if you ship them but his character falls into the "only interesting for the shipping to the fandom" pit quite easily.)

There's something incredibly validating to have a character like Shilo, who's kind and silly and aromantic if that makes sense. Aromantic representation has been lackluster, and most representation is god awful (coughLovelesscough) so having Shilo would be really nice. He's not canon representation, yes. Unless Bizly straight up confirms it, it's just implied representation but come on. It's right there guys. Give us an aro win.

His character has a lot of interesting bits: a character who's only experience with the world is through media & book (hashtag autism), a character who's incredibly cruel yet kind, a character blind to his own flaws, an aromantic character who loves despite. Give me more morally grey Shilo, more guilty Shilo and most of all. More Aromantic Shilo.

#shilo bathory #shilo bathroy #jrwi #just roll with it #the suckening #jrwi the suckening #aromantic shilo bathory

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markeronacomputer · 4 months

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Why Is Alastor So Weirdly Protective Of Charlie (And/Or Why Does He Hate Lucifer So Much)?

So I’m sure we’ve all seen the newest episodes. Wow, am I right? A whole load to unpack there!

The main thing that really caught my attention, though, was Alastor. Specifically, his actions towards Charlie and especially Lucifer in episode 5.

Well… there’s not really much to say about why it’s weird, is there? So, without any further ado, here’s my thoughts.

In Dad Beat Dad, Alastor engages in a whole-ass musical number about how he’s better than Lucifer and, specifically, better at being Charlie’s dad than him. He seems to do this… solely to piss him off.

And, honestly, that makes sense. Because no matter how deadbeat a dad Lucifer was, Alastor is nowhere near better than him. This is the same dude who called Charlie’s dream wacky nonsense and continuously stressed that he was only there for the entertainment.

There’s no way in hell (ba-dum-tish) that that dude suddenly developed paternal instincts for her in what couldn’t have been more than a few months. So, clearly, it must be to piss him off. But why?

Well, one of the popular theories about Alastor is that the one who gave him his powers is Lilith. I shouldn’t have to explain why this makes sense: both gone for seven years, and of course the first time he’s seen since his disappearance is after Charlie’s voicemail to her mom.

And he must be very loyal to her, to assist her daughter in a dream that he explicitly states he thinks is bullshit.

It would also explain how pissed he is when Husk brings it up: maybe it wasn’t the fact that he brought up that he also made a deal, but that he implied that his relationship with said patron is less than healthy. You know, he don’t want people to speak about his girl like that. (guys don’t worry I know al is aroace it’s just a joke he’s her personal bodyguard)

So, it’s safe to say that Alastor is very loyal to and protective of Lilith, an attitude which must extend to Charlie, yes? Yes, but that doesn’t explain the general pettiness of his relationship with Lucifer.

Well, we just established that Alastor is loyal to and protective of Lilith, that would do practically anything for her. So do we know any character that Al has a similar relationship with?…

Oh, right.

His mother.

It’s been confirmed via Word of Vivienne that Alastor is totally a mama’s boy and adores her above all else. So, it’s not much of a stretch to say that he sees Lilith as a sort of second mother figure, right?

So, inversely, it’s not much of a stretch to say that he would associate Lucifer with his father.

Think about it. Have we ever heard his father be mentioned anywhere? No. And knowing that daddy issues are TOTALLY a long-running theme in Vivziepop stories by now (Blitz, Stolas, Moxxie, Octavia, technically Loona, Charlie, probably Angel to some extent), who’s to say Alastor can’t be the same?

Now, this is kind of a stretch, but I propose that Alastor’s first victim was his own father, whom he killed and cannibalised as revenge for years of abuse to him, and even more so, his mother.

That’s why he hates Lucifer so much. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near him, he doesn’t want him anywhere near Lilith, and it seems he especially doesn’t want him anywhere near Charlie.

Which makes sense, if we apply the logic from earlier to her. If he sees his mother in Lilith and his father in Lucifer, it’s possible he sees Charlie as a younger, more innocent version of himself: both theatrical dreamers, both never fully dressed without a smile, both incredibly emotional when it comes to the protection of those they care about.

It’s also safe to say that, no matter how egotistical he pretends to be, Alastor probably doesn’t have a very high opinion of himself, given how in the pilot he outright says that inside every demon (which INCLUDES himself, by the way) is a lost cause. Maybe it’s possible he sees her as himself before everything went wrong.

So, as it turns out, he’s actually less of a dad to Charlie and more of a big brother. And… I think that’s a lot more fitting for him.

TLDR: Alastor’s weird grudge against Lucifer is because he associates him with his abusive father. That and his loyalty to Lilith and Charlie are two things that, if I’m right, will probably prove to be very important to understanding Alastor as a character.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar

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radios-universe · 8 months

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Thought for the day: how do you define love?

this is a fun thought for the day to answer as someone who is aroace.

as someone who cannot experience romantic attraction, i have searched far and wide for an explanation of what love is 'supposed to feel like'. because i know that whatever it is, in its romantic definition anyway, i cannot feel it.

i've never been able to find an answer for that question. 'you think about them/want to be with them all the time' ... well i enjoy my friends' company but i wouldn't say i'm collectively in love with all of them.

even just the top google results when you search about it:

all of these points can be perfectly platonic to me!!!

point is, i have no idea what being in love romantically is and how that is ever supposed to be defined - which always leads to me being confused on why couples take so long to say 'ily' to each other in tv shows.

love, to me; in my brain, is a word that has always been hard for me to detach from a romantic definition. sure, i understand that love is beyond romance as you can love friends as family, but so many things in media taught me for so long that romantic love is vastly more important and much bigger of an experience than platonic love could ever be.

and really, at this point in my life, i'd disagree. yes, maybe still i'd kill to know what it feels like to crush on someone, to get butterflies in your stomach or... however it feels to experience romantic attraction... but i have made a connection which absolutely covers every single one of those bulletpoints up there and more. without either of us having feelings towards another.

now, by society's standards, we're not in love. we're not in a romantic relationship, we don't have feelings towards each other in that way and never will. but how come i'm ticking off every single one of those points? agreeing with how love is defined?

love, to me, is finding home in another person. finding comfort and finding normality. being able to be yourself, and to feel a sense of belonging. not only is it wanting to be with a person all the time, but it is the feeling that you can just exist together, to the extent where you may as well be by yourself. but you're not :]

i love you m. though i struggle to say it, i wish it would come easier to me <3

#damn anyone else shed a tear #im kidding i didnt #maybe #aroace #asexuality #aromantic #ace #aro #asexual #arospec #aromanticism #send asks #asks open

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olderthannetfic · 24 days

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I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.

Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.

People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.

I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.

Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.

Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.

However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.

As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.

Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.

It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.

It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.

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aromarten · 4 months

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Really can't wrap my head around anyone whose said things like "aspecs stop being annoying in the notes challenge" in response to the increasing number of aspecs that remind others they exist when there's yet another post generalizing life's experience as one that involves sex, romance, friendship or anything else. Don't get me wrong, as an aroace person, there have absolutely been times where I've seen a comment from a fellow aro/ace that I felt was uncalled for or unnecessarily hostile. Sometimes it really does have nothing to do with us and was in no way meant to be an attack. But most of times I see those messages from aspecs it's replying to a post doing something such as claiming life is all about love or making an implicit assumption that everyone experiences a certain type of attraction.

Even in the cases where none of that is happening and nobody needed to mention aspecs, please understand that those reactions come from feeling hurt and forgotten so often.

What I'll say next is a very common sort of comparison I hear and I think it's useful so I like to parrot it- Imagine if the majority of posts were about being attracted to men. All the time, even after trying your best to curate your experience, most of what you saw were posts that at the very least imply there's no one who isn't attracted to men. That this was an obvious fact of life. At some point those who are not attracted to men would get annoyed and start responding like "There are a lot of people this doesn't apply to, it isn't universal. Do you have to use language that implies it is whenever you talk about your experience?".

Again, yes, sometimes there are posts using generalizing language as a harmless joke or something that doesn't really need to be commented on. But when you're left out or it's outright implied you don't exist so frequently it's easy for me to see how some might have strong reactions to something they perceive to be doing that to them again. Not trying to make an excuse for anyone's bad behavior, I just want to offer a possible explanation and encourage others to reconsider perspectives.

#aro #aromantic #ace #asexual #aroace #aspec #chattering

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leilani-lily · 20 days

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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 9)

A thousand apologies my dearest does and bucks ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

This took much longer than anticipated; I hit a bit of a wall, and time escaped from me. But we're here! We trekkin' on! The story continues \( ᐖ)/

.... And we're actually splitting this into 3 rather than 2 because over 6k later and we're still not done yet so ahaha! Whoopsies~ (´∀｀);

｡°⚠︎°｡ Final note. This is a WARNING that this chapter includes mention of VIOLENCE, GORE, and SEXUAL ASSAULT so please read with caution if this is a trigger for you!! ｡°⚠︎°｡

Thank you all for your love and support, honestly ꨄ I've been feeling down lately and re-reading comments has really helped to boost my spirits and push me to keep going! I love y'all dearly ( •̯́ v •̯̀)♡

OK! Without further ado~ SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You venture off on your own to grab Alastor's gift, unaware of the dangers to follow... Word Count: 6.2k Chapter under the cut! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your feet pounded on the pavement below you and you jogged towards the coffee stall. Your eyes were sharp and alert and your grip on Alastor’s microphone tight. You knew you had to be quick and extra careful now being on your own. But surprisingly enough, you weren’t afraid. Your blood was pumping with adrenaline, and with Alastor’s staff, you felt more powerful than you ever had in your entire life. It was exhilarating, to say the least.

Dodging in between sinners and recognizing landmarks, you were able to find the vendor in question without any problems. You breathed a sigh of relief, coming to a stop in front of the display table and taking a moment to catch your breath. A large, older imp with a white goatee raised an eyebrow at you questioningly from behind the counter. Finally, you stand up straight and give him a quick smile before your eyes flickered over everything he had to offer.

As much as you enjoyed some of the quirky mugs on display, you knew in your heart what you really wanted. The problem is, you only knew the bare basics about coffee; you had no idea what made a good machine or not. You glanced around at all of the modern tech and felt your shoulders sag. Alastor would hate all of these; you needed something from his time; something more classical.

“Somethin’ ya looking fer in pa’ticular dollface?”

You lifted your head to the imp across from you. He was leaning against the table with his other hand on his hip, his eyes tired and dull. You gave him a sheepish grin, clearing your throat quickly.

“Ah, yes please…” you start, “This might sound weird. I’m looking for something from the 30’s that helps to brew coffee.” a thought crossed your mind, and you could feel yourself beginning to sweat, “I… uh. Actually. I don’t even know what they used back then… A kettle? Or some sort of special press…?” Your eyes drifted down awkwardly. Satan’s Ass, you have no idea what the Hell you’re looking for. This guy’s gonna think you’re an idiot.

To your relief the imp said nothing, but you could tell he was judging you hard. He looked you up and down before simply shrugging off the table and turning on the spot. He began to shuffle through the shelving unit behind him, tea kettles and mugs clattering as he searched. The imp spoke to you over his shoulder.

“Ehhh, I don’ know girlie. I know I had somethin’ a while ago, but might’ve been snatched already.” he shuffled some more, “Antiques like dat are hard ta find, n’ when ya do, dey sell pretty quickly. Humans n’ nostalgia n’ all ‘at.”

You could feel your fingers fidgeting nervously; you really hoped you didn’t just risk your safety for nothing. The excitement from earlier was beginning to fizzle out with the thought of not being successful. Maybe you could get him a nice mug instead? Or maybe one of those cute, little stirring spoons…

“Well I’ll be blessed th’n damned again…”

You looked up to the seller to see him turn around, a crooked smile on his face as he held what looked like two glass pots connected like an hour-glass. Your eyes widened in amazement at the strange looking contraption.

“Called a ‘Silex Vacuum Siphon’. D’know what year it’s from, but ya ain't gonna find something more vintage den dis, I can guarantee.”

You tucked Alastor’s mike under your arm as you carefully took the glass contraption in your hands. It was definitely used, and could use a good cleaning. But there were no cracks or chips to be seen, no major damage that could affect its ability to brew. Given it was nearly a century old, it was in fairly good condition.

“It’s perfect.” you breathed, thumb grazing over the glass tenderly as your heart pittered excitedly. Alastor would absolutely love this, you just knew it. You had to get it for him, it was like it was destiny. Your head whipped up to the seller.

“How much?”

Said imp looked you up and down for a moment before his eyes landed near your arm. A sly smile crept up his mouth as his pupils flicked back up to your face.

“How ‘bout that fancy lookin’ cane o’ yours?”

Immediately you placed the siphon back down and clutched the microphone close to your chest, shooting daggers at the creature in front of you. “Absolutely not.”

To your relief, the imp just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, “Eh. Was woith a shot.” he chuckled, helping your tense shoulders to slowly relax. His eyes darted between you and the siphon, clearly deep in thought before crossing his arms.

“400”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. For fuck sakes, you figured it would be expensive, but this was highway robbery. And you knew very well that he knew that too; he was totally upping the price knowing how desperate you are. And as much as you needed it, you didn’t have enough on you. A thought crossed your mind, something you had observed when you explored the market. With as much confidence as you could muster, you laid your hands flat on the table and leaned in, giving him a very serious look.

“200”

The imp’s smile creaked up to his ears. “375”

You had to stop yourself from smiling and breaking the facade. It was working. Thank God, he seemed like the type who enjoyed a little haggling. If you could just get him down a little more, maybe you could actually pull this off.

“250”

“350”

“300” You finally declare, before quickly adding, “And! you wrap it up nicely for me.” you stare him down, leaning back up and crossing your arms in front of you. “That’s my final offer.”

The background noise of the market droned on as you both glared at each other across the booth. Eventually, the imp’s lips curled up devilishly before giving a sigh and shaking his head.

“Ya drive a hard bargain toots. Deal.” He cocked an eyebrow and reached a clawed hand out. You shook his hand coolly, but it was so hard to contain the excitement bouncing around in your chest. There was something exhilarating about negotiating prices; you could see why some demons got such a high off of coming to markets like these. Of course, this purchase was still going to drain you of all your cash, but it was well worth it.

While he got to work bubble wrapping the siphon, you basically dumped your purse out and gave him every cent you had. He made sure to cushion the glass carefully and even found an empty box to place it in for double security. You honestly didn’t know how this interaction would've gone; you were initially worried he would’ve robbed you blind or threatened you. But as he handed you the bag with the goods and gave a final nod, you were beyond relieved to find that he actually seemed to be a decent guy. Maybe this market wasn’t completely full of thieves and swindlers like you had thought.

You were practically skipping down the alley, one hand tight around Alastor’s microphone and the other holding your precious gift (but careful not to swing it around too much). You couldn’t wait to give this to him. You could feel your whole body tingling with anticipation. You really hoped that it did make a good cup of coffee; it would be a shame if it didn’t. Even so, it was such a funky looking thing, at the very least it could make for a cool decoration and hopefully bring back fond memories… You wondered how much of a difference there was between drinking coffee from a coffee machine or a siphon. You’d have to brew a pot with him tomorrow morning and-!

Your daydreaming was instantly snatched away as you were quickly dragged into the darkness of the ally beside you.

You went to scream but a large paw had clamped around your mouth before you could utter a sound. The bag slipped from your grasp and fell to the ground with a clatter, but thankfully you kept your grip on the staff tight. You immediately went to swing your arms, but both your wrists were grabbed, looking like mere toothpicks in the claws of the Hell Hounds that pulled you in. You kicked your feet up in protest as your yells were muffled, but you were no match for the sheer strength these creatures had as they dragged you further into the darkness and away from the crowds. They hauled you backwards until you felt your heels no longer dragged, indicating you had stopped, but you were barely aware of your surroundings. You continue to thrash your shoulders around and kick your feet up, desperately trying to escape like a caged wild animal.

“Now now, there’s no reason to cause such a ruckus.”

Your eyes flash open and whip to the deep voice ahead of you. Your eyes fall onto a large silhouette leaning against the wall to your right, the brightness of the market ahead of you shading your captor’s full appearance. But as he pushed off and stepped closer, your eyes adjusted and were finally able to take in the finer details. Dripped in a rugged leather jacket and ripped jeans, the wolf looking Hell Hound sauntered towards you. His grin was fierce, and neon-yellow eyes practically glowed in the darkness. You could feel your mouth go dry and your legs turn to jelly.

Your initial frenzied shock subsiding, you took a moment to look up at your two captors holding you back, One seemed to be a tall, muscular Mastiff with a slobbery snarl, his paws holding your right wrist and shoulder. The other was a Doberman type with cropped ears and sharp eyes, gripping tightly to your mouth and other wrist. You mumble out a pathetic plea and shimmy your shoulders again, trying to get their attention and hope that they take pity, but they pay you no mind, focusing instead on their alpha.

“Don’t even bother chickie,” the silver dog snarked, making you turn your attention back to him, “We Hounds are very loyal to our pack; they’ll only listen to me.” Your eyes narrowed into angry slits, shooting daggers at the alpha. He merely snickered in reply.

“You’re probably wondering who we are,” he mused, putting his hands behind his back and calmly pacing in front of you. “Wondering what we want, why you’re here, ‘yadda yadda ya…” the dog babbled, making a yapping motion with his claws. He turned to you and gave you a cocky grin. “You should know that we don’t usually do this kind of thing… we’re actually nice guys once you get to know us!”

The two dogs behind you chuckle darkly, not at all making you feel reassured.

“We’re nothing but humble thieves,” the wolf continued, sauntering back over to you, “Steal enough to make a humble living. Only take what we need. Provide for the pack. Today was supposed to be like any other…”

The alpha’s yellow eyes suddenly grew dull, his smug smile slowly falling to a sneer as he stopped in front of you. The look on his face made a nervous shudder crawl down your spine.

“... Until that ugly ass, bob-cut bastard stepped in.”

Bob-cut…? What in the Hell is he-

“Tyrion was so sneaky about it too, I was sure the wallet was as good as ours.” the wolf continued, his voice a mix of sorrow and venom. “But then that red-clad fucker saw him and…” you noticed his paws clench into tight fists, his eyes narrowing angrily.

Red-clad… Oh god… could he mean?

“I saw it with my own eyes. That mad-man butchered him like a pig. Didn’t even give him a chance to apologize or make amends.” His nose was scrunched up in rage before it softened, his eyes holding the tiniest bit of horror, “But I think what was the most haunting was the way that creep smiled the entire time. Almost as if he was enjoying it.”

… God fucking damnit Alastor.

“You seemed like such an easy target too.” the alpha’s neon eyes flicked up to you. “We didn’t realize what kind of monster you had on a leash.”

You felt your heart sink into your stomach as you recalled that wild look in Alastor's eyes earlier, the way his smile seemed sharper... Damnit, you felt so stupid now. How did you not notice? Dear God, how many others had died today by Alastor’s hands? It was clear that this ‘Tyrian’ was trying to steal from you, but did that really warrant death? You felt a twinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

“So when my boy’s noticed you gallivanting on your own, I couldn’t believe our luck.” the wolf chuckled, leaning in closer until you were face to face, “You seriously made our job so much easier.”

Your cast-down gaze immediately scrunched into one of distrust, feeling your body become on-edge as you focused back on your captor. The wolf smirked at your helplessness, eyeing you up and down before his gaze fell to your left hand. His eyebrows shot up in interest.

“And look at this!” He taunted, leaning back up and reaching for Alastor’s staff, “You even brought us an apology gift! What a nice little girl~”

Your eyes widened in horror, trying to jerk your hand away from the wolf’s grasp. But the Doberman held your wrist tight, making it near impossible for you to do anything as the alpha grabbed hold of the microphone and ripped it from your grasp. You let out a whimper of despair as it left your hand, to which the silver dog’s ears perked, and turned to give you a hungry look.

“Hmmm, what a pretty sound. Almost makes me want to hear it again~”

You could feel your blood boiling at his words, and in a fit of rage, you kick your feet up aggressively. To your dismay, the leader jumped out of the way in time, a joyous laugh escaping his muzzle as he hopped to the side. The two dogs holding you immediately tightened their grip on you, pulling you back and holding you more securely. You huffed through your nose like an angry bull, shooting the wolf a venomous glare as he howled and dusted off his jacket.

“Wooh! And feisty too. Gotta admit, that just turns me on more~” he grinned, showcasing his sharp fangs and blackened gums. His pupils flicked between his friends, “Do me a favor boys, secure those legs of hers so she doesn’t do that again.”

Almost immediately, the two henchmen each step on your feet with their large paws, pinning your feet underneath theirs. You try to lift your legs up and away to test your mobility, but sure enough, your feet were locked in place. Panic started to settle now realizing just how much trouble you were in, and instinctively, you jut your shoulders out aggressively to try and once again escape. The wolf snickered at your struggles, slowly moving closer to you.

“Now originally, we were just going to kill you and leave it at that.” the alpha hummed, eyes slowly grazing your body, “But hey, why stop there? Why waste a perfectly good meal without getting the chance to have a bite~”

Faster than lightning, his free paw came up and slashed at your chest, making you cry out in pure agony underneath the Doberman's paw. White specs blotted your sight as your mind froze in shock. You didn’t have to look to know; you could feel what he had done. Your body felt both cold and hot, from where your dress was torn and your body exposed to the air, and from where you could feel your blood begin to soak into what remained of your dress. You tried so hard to not make too many noises after the wolf's disgusting words, but the way your skin was burning, it was hard not to. Your eyes were beginning to water as you focused your attention back on the leader. Guilt be damned, you didn’t feel a thing for these bastards anymore. You wanted to make them hurt the way they hurt you.

Outrage helped you find the strength to thrash around again, desperately trying to free your limbs so you could land a punch, a kick, anything. The Hell Hound took a step back to avoid your violent thrashing, chuckling at your display and licking his lips.

“Calm down now Sheila, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. It will be over before you know it…” He began his advance again, and you could feel your skin begin to prickle with panic. You continue your thrashing, lifting your legs and pulling at your arms, hoping that something would give way before it was too late.

And by the grace of God above, you felt your left shoe loosen under the paw of the Doberman.

An opportunity.

You spring into action, giving your left knee one final thrust upwards, making your foot pop out of your shoe and free from its confinement. Without even thinking, you slam it down hard into the Doberman’s bottom foot, making sure to dig your heel in deep. The skinny dog howled in agony, his grip on your arm and mouth loosened, giving you the chance you needed to act. As he bends over to grab at his tender paw, you bring your left arm across your chest and swiftly ram your elbow right into his muzzle. The force, along with his now injured foot, is enough to send him toppling over and slamming onto the ground, clutching his now bloodied nose.

Not wasting a precious second, you take the momentum from your left elbow and swing it over to your right, turning your body and socking the Mastif right in the face. He too yelps in pain, letting go of your right arm and freeing your other foot. As he steps back, distracted by the punch you landed, you grab him by the shoulders and lunge your left knee square into his groin. The Hell Hound let out a pathetic squeak as he immediately crumpled to the ground, curling into fetal position as he cradled his tenders.

Two down. One to go.

“Oh you BITCH!”

Right as you turn to face the wolf, his arm was already raised and ready to strike, swiftly bringing it down and backhanding your cheek. You cry out in pain, the sheer strength knocking you off your feet and making you fall harshly on your backside, cracking your head on the pavement. Your bun had come undone, your hair curtaining your glassy gaze as you watched the alpha throw the microphone to the side and stomp towards you. Too dazed by the blow, you felt him come down on you and straddle your hips, bringing his paws down over your throat.

“You think you’re tough shit girlie?” he snarled, his grip on your neck tightening, “Let’s see how tough you are once you beg for mercy.”

You gasped for air desperately, your hands clawing at his paws and legs kicking out behind him. Your heart was racing anxiously, eyes darting all around you to see if there was anything around that could help you. A shimmer of light catches your eye, and you're just able to turn your head ever so slightly to your right. Your silver hair pin glistened in the light beside you, like a gift from God himself.

You turn your attention back to the wolf, not wanting to reveal your plan to him. You could feel your vision begin to spot from lack of oxygen, but you stretch out your right arm, desperately trying to reach the pin without making it obvious. You felt the cool metal suddenly come in contact with your fingertips, rolling it closer to you into it finally was tight in your fist. With as much strength as you could muster, you swing your arm up and over, stabbing your assaulter right where his shoulders met his neck.

The wolf immediately howled in pain, rolling to his side and off you to grasp at the makeshift weapon lodged in his neck. You gasped for breath, feeling your blurry vision slowly speckle back as you choked in air. Exhaustion was taking over at this point; your head felt heavy from all the blows, and you could feel your body becoming numb from the blood-loss. Your eyes lazily scanned the area until they locked on Alastor’s mike, and you knew this would be your last chance if you wanted to survive this.

You force your weak body to move, crawling on the ground as quick as you could towards the staff, scratching your arms and stomach as you went. You whimpered in agony, wishing to just give up and let sleep take over. But Alastor was waiting for you. Your friends back at the hotel were waiting. You couldn’t give up, not after coming this far.

Finally, you manage to stretch out and grab the mike, pulling it close to your mouth and taking a big breath.

“ALAS-!”

A fuzzy hand gripped your ankle and yanked you whole body away, making you cry out in fear as your plea was cut off. Your body scrapped painfully on the ground, dirt and tiny rocks grating against your open wounds. You whip your body around, cane still tight in hand and flinging it over to strike your opponent. But the wolf caught it skillfully in his paw, his pupils constricted and baring his fangs, the fur on his neck now sticky and tainted red.

“Enough of this shit.”

The hound threw the staff out of your grasp and to the side, straddling you once again, but this time pinning both your arms over your head with one arm and leaning over you dangerously. You sobbed out in agony, your mind desperately telling your body to fight, but too exhausted to react. The alpha sneered down at you, panting and eyes wild with fury.

“Believe me when I say I find no pleasure in killing.” he growled, his hot breath hitting your face and making you whine out in dread. “But now…” The dog began to raise his free arm high in the air, his claws extracting with a sharp sound.

“I’m gonna enjoy watching you bleed out.”

A sob escaped your throat, tears streaming down your face in thick streams. This was it. This was going to be how you died. You had never actually died in Hell yet, and a part of you was scared. How long until you came back to life? Would you remember any of this… Fuck, would you remember anything at all? You couldn’t imagine a life outside of the hotel, not now. Not without the friends you've made. Certainly not without Alastor. The thought was unbearable.

His arm came down swiftly, and you cried out in terror, shutting your eyes tight and turning your head, trying to block out the nightmare in front of you. You heard a slash of skin being torn and felt your whole body tense at the sound. You waited for the searing pain, for the blood to gush out from you until you became numb.

But oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything.

You dared to peek up at the wolf on top of you, a peculiar look on his face as he was frozen in mid swing. His eyelid twitched, mouth partially open before his top half suddenly began to … slide?

“Funny you should say that, I was thinking ₮ⱧɆ ɆӾ₳₵₮ ₴₳₥Ɇ ₮Ⱨł₦₲.”

Before you could comprehend where the voice came from, the wolf's upper body slid clean off his waist, toppling to the side and beside you on the ground. You slowly sat up, unable to speak as blood began to pool around you, both from his severed chest and his hips and legs. A large black tentacle came up from behind you and grabbed onto one of the wolf's ankles, picking up the severed lower section and flinging it off of your body. You blink in recognition, feeling your initial shock subside and your chest tighten with hope. You turned around towards your saviour, but had to hold in your gasp at the creature behind you.

Microphone once again tight in his grasp, this demon was as tall as the buildings surrounding you; body barely able to fit between the narrow alleyway as he bent over you. Horns tripled in size and much more resembled deer antlers, black tentacles splayed from his back and writhing around, huge hands and talons sharp, eyes black as night and scarlet pupils in the shape of dials, and a red ‘x’ on his forehead burning brightly.

You had never seen Alastor in this state; in his true demonic form. You almost didn’t believe it was him. But his characteristic smile was ever present, your skin feeling that familiar buzz of electricity from his sound waves. You knew just how powerful he was, but to witness him at his full potential, it truly was a sight to behold.

The giant form was watching you this whole time, dials flickering over your tiny body below him. From your face, to your torn chest and dress, to your bloodied legs, and back up to you. You felt a chill crawl down your spine as you locked eyes, your breath catching in your throat. Any other person would have been terrified looking up at such a creature, but oddly enough, you felt the safest you had ever been. Though you could feel the outrage that was emanating from his very body, you could sense the recognition in his eyes, the kindness deep within those haunting eyes.

The clatter of a loose can snapped you both out of your gaze, Alastor whipping his giant head up and forward, once again sharp and on alert. You heard a whimper of fright and manage to notice the Mastiff tumble out from the shadows and begin to run, yelling like a child and scrambling to get as far away as possible. There was a sudden buzz in the air, the Radio Demon’s smile curling up on his face and drooling blood. A chilling laugh escaped his throat, his jaw practically unhinging like a snake.

“Well that was not a wise decision on your part…” Alastor growled, his voice deeper and booming as the sound practically shook the ground beneath you. His large body began to move forward, crawling like an animal and the screeching of static ringing out in the air.

“Don’t you know a hunter ⱤɆⱠł₴ⱧɆ₴ ł₦ ₳ ₲ØØĐ ₵Ⱨ₳₴Ɇ??”

The Overlord pounds forward, surprisingly fast for his size as the Hell Hound screeches in horror, sprinting further into the darkness of the alleyway ahead. You sat in the pool of the alpha’s blood, still stunned at the events of this afternoon and unable to do anything other than sit and stare. You numbly look over to the severed wolf beside you, his eyes already glossy and deprived of any life.

One.

You look back up to the large lanky demon stomping forward, laughing maniacally as whimpered screams of the Mastiff could be heard bouncing off the brick walls.

Two.

You blinked for a moment, your brain slow to process, but eventually catching up to the current events and what seemed wrong about this picture.

Fuck.

Where was the Doberman.

You heard some shuffling from behind a dumpster and whip your head over, your previous question instantly being answered. The skinny dog limped forward, eyes locked on Alastor and unaware of you watching him. He limped forward, his right paw still sore from you stomping on it. But his arm was tucked into his jacket suspiciously, and you felt your eyes narrow dubiously. A soft click snapped from inside the cloth, and the Doberman pulled out what appeared to be a gun, pointing it right at Alastor’s back.

But there was something about this weapon that made you feel uneasy. The silver finishes that swirled around it, the way it practically radiated light in the darkness. There was something about this weapon that felt unnatural; like it didn’t belong in this world.

It seemed almost… Holy…

You felt your blood run cold.

It was all a blur. Rage and fear had taken full control of your body. Whatever exhaustion you had felt earlier was forgotten, whatever aches and pains slowing you down were no longer a hindrance. Completely fuelled with adrenaline and desperation, you scramble forward, bending over and grabbing your hair pin splayed on the ground. You sprint at a speed in which you never had before, screeching out Alastor’s name in warning before leaping onto the hound from behind.

The Doberman shouted in protest, raising his arms in defense and misfiring. The sound ricocheted off the walls, causing the Radio Demon to whip his head around, mouth half full of the Mastiff to a sight truly unbeheld.

Your legs tight around the Dobermans waist, your one hand gripped at his head while the other continuously stabbed him in the neck. The dog clawed away at your arms desperately, howling out in pain as blood began to gush from his throat. But his screams were nothing compared to yours. Like a wild animal, you shrieked in fury, holding him tight and eyes feral as you punctured his neck again and again. The Doberman’s eyes eventually rolled to the back of his head, falling to his knees and landing face first on the ground. But as you went down with him, you continued your assault, kneeling over him with both arms overhead and slamming the hair pin into his back again and again and again.

Alastor watched from afar, jaw hanging open and the Mastiff’s carcass falling out from between his razor teeth. Never had he imagined he would see a spectacle such as this, certainly not from the likes of you. Not the girl who sang jazz in the kitchen, laughed at his horrendous puns, and slept so peacefully in his presence. He was convinced you were an angel in disguise, too pure for this damned world.

And yet.

Here you were, stabbing and slashing and drenched in another's blood.

And he got to witness it.

Your furious screams started sputtering into sobs, and Alastor immediately snapped out of his thoughts. He immediately shifted into the shadows, slithering to you at lightning speed and emerging beside you, back to his regular appearance and hesitating a moment before gently placing both his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/n,” he spoke tenderly, “Y/n, darling. It’s ok. He’s gone. You’re safe.”

The sound of his voice made you whip your head up to him, snapping you out of your daze. Your eyes were wide with horror making Alastor flinch, unsure how you were going to react. Immediately, you turn your upper body to him, grabbing onto his cheeks with bloodied hands and inspecting his face all over.

“Are you ok??” you sob, eyes panicked and looking all over his body, “you didn’t get hit, did you?? God please tell me you’re ok!”

Alastor blinked back his confusion, his eyebrows furrowing at your words. “Of course I’m alright my dear, whatever do you-!”

A glimmer of light caught his eye, and his gaze was momentarily pulled away from your frantic face. Upon laying eyes over the peculiar weapon, he felt his eyes widen in recognition. There was no mistaking the silver swirls decorating the gun. He had heard rumours of such weapons, not yet having the pleasure of seeing anything of the like in real life.

He had heard the gunshot earlier, and was worried you were on the other end of the rifle which had triggered him to turn. But he hadn’t considered that the bullet was intended for him. Of course, a regular bullet wound was of no concern to him, he had survived much worse.

But a bullet from an angelic weapon?

As he formed the picture in his head, you calling out his name desperately and your sudden panic for his well being, it didn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

You didn’t kill out of self defense.

You had killed to protect him.

You had killed for him.

His mind was tumbling with this new wave of information and emotions, something that he didn’t often struggle with. But he felt your hands slip away from his face, causing him to focus back on you. Your head was bent down, hair draping over and covering your face, and soon your shoulders began to tremble. The distinct sound of you crying caused a jolt to shoot up Alastor’s spine, and immediately he lowered a hand under your chin to tilt your head up towards him. Sure enough, big salty tears were streaming down your face. But what caught him the most off guard was the weepy smile spread across your face.

“Thank God.” you wept, your voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it, “I-I was so worried… I couldn’t live with myself if…” your lip trembled as you burst into tears. Whether they were tears of relief or fear, he wasn’t sure, but one thing was for certain.

Alastor had never seen someone so shaken at the thought of him dying.

And that made him feel… something.

But he didn’t have time to delve into that. Not right now. He had to address this situation before he could dissect his thoughts. He knelt beside you, truly taking in your state of dress and being. Your dress was torn to shreds and blood-soaked, your chest bearing deep claw marks, the side of your head had dried blood spilling from your hairline, cheek swollen, scrapped stomach and legs, and bruises scattered all over your body.

Rage swelled up in his body. Furious at the hounds who did this to you. Bitter at you for thinking that going off on your own was a good idea. And most of all, outraged at himself for allowing this to have happened in the first place. And when that last thought trickled into his brain, he felt something else slither in his mind to replace that anger. An ancient feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time; ever since he was alive.

Guilt.

What a terrible emotion. He hated it with every fiber of his being. He never felt regret or sorrow for the actions he took since descending to Hell. Why would he when dealing with demons and creatures alike that he saw as mere obstacles in his way? But as he looked down at your crumpled form, his usual sunny sparrow clipped of her wings and trembling before him. Knowing that he had broken his promise of protecting you…

His eyebrows furrowed, ears falling flat on his head as his jaw clenched tightly.

Of course, you weren’t at all aware of the torment currently happening in Alastor’s mind. You were just so damn relieved he was ok, and that you were alive to tell the tale. Your choked sobs were slowly lessening, trying to focus on your breathing and just so freaking grateful to still have oxygen in your lungs. As you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you could feel your eyes growing tired, body slowly relaxing finally knowing the horror was over. The aches and pains were coming back to life, your chest especially burning painfully and your dress sticky with blood. Whatever adrenaline that was pumping through your veins was fastly subsiding, blood loss making your head heavy and limbs numb.

You didn’t even realize you were falling over until you felt long arms catch you, holding you up so you didn’t hit the ground. You could hear the familiar buzz of Alastor’s radio-like voice speaking to you, but your head was swimming, and your ears weren’t able to pick up what he was saying. You tried to look up at him, but your vision was so blurred, he was just a red fuzz in your eyes. You were so tired; you just wanted to sleep. And Alastor’s body was so warm and familiar, it was like a comforting blanket. You leaned in closer to his body, desperate for that feeling after such a harrowing event.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and a single thought emerged that made you panic a moment. The bag. The present. You can’t leave that damned thing behind. You reached out a hand and lazily padded at Alastor’s chest, mumbling out a string of words that you prayed made sense. The red blob tilted to the side, and you knew he was confused, but you couldn’t fully explain yourself. He was smart, you knew he would figure it out. And you knew he would take care of you; you were in safe hands now.

You could finally allow yourself to sleep.

Your vision was quickly dimming, darkness beginning to surround you until eventually your eyelids fell shut and you blacked out completely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

FIRST PREVIOUS NEXT (Coming soon)

My beautiful does and bucks: @saccharine-nectarine @doowopshewop @mysterypotatoink @wendds @crispybelieverworld @raicomme ((WE GOT MORE BEAUTIFUL SINNERS YAY ꨄ ))

#leilani-lily #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #oh deer

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