Fraugwinskawrites - Tumblr Posts

HOW IS THIS MAN SO GOOD AT KISSING?!?!?!

The minute he stops, the reader is going to slowly sink down to the ground, panting with flushed cheeks while Alastor just smirks down at them❤️🩷🥰❤️🩷💋❤️🥰❤️🥰

Hello Springflower~

*slams envelope on the table and stare you into your soul whispering*

Alastor x reader where reader is asking him to show off as a fake "couple" because of one sinner who just won't stop annoying reader. Al agreed to help his dear friend and it started of innocent and cute with hand holding, kiss on the cheek- when SUDDENLY he kiss reader (in front of the sinner ofc) INTENSE and when he just stops for a second to kiss her neck she's like: "Al...? He's gone."

And he is like: "how disapointing"~

And just GOES ON

*leaves a heart cupcake next to the envelope and runs away*

For you - anything, sweet summer child. This just flowed out of me, and I was kicking my own feet as I wrote it. So... Here you go ;> I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Fake it 'till you Make it

The door slammed into it's frame with a bang so loud the glasses in it rattled. You panted, heart pounding hard in your chest as you tried to calm your erratic breathing. With shaking fingers you gripped the dark, wooden frame, so tight your nails scratched the furnishing off. You peered out of the yellow and red stained glasses, trying to identify the distorted shapes from the outside. Did he follow you? Was he still out there?

„What's...“

You felt a hand on your shoulder and reacted without thinking. You turned around with a shocked scream and whipped your arm out for a forceful slap. The sound reverberated around in the empty room as a slight stinging sensation ran through your palm. It snapped you back to reality and made you pause.

You blinked as your gaze went from your own, trembling hand, which now burned in an angry, red hue to a taupe face, the shadow of your handprint next to a wide, yellow smile. Your breath seemed to freeze as your eyes went up and finally met a pair of wide, burgundy ones.

"...the matter, dear?" Alastor finished, blinking before his face shifted slightly.

You stood speechless and frozen for a hot second, trying to recollect your thoughts before a tidal wave of emotion washed over your head. Embarrassment, followed by shock and, suddenly, by the sensation that started to build in your chest, the threat to bubble over in tears.

„Oh satan, Alastor, I-I'm so sorry. I, shit, I got you bad, I'm so sorry, th-there was.. and I was.."

You choked down another sob, words and feelings clogging up in your mouth. You rubbed at your stinging eyes, blinking away what you were trying desperately not to show. You thought it would have worked at least until Alastor's slender hands came up to wrap around your wrist and pull them away gently.

"Are you a singer, dear?" he chimed, his face unmoved, but his eyes softening a little. "Because that really was quite the hit! Ha ha!"

When you didn't join in his laugh, he immediately snapped out of it.

"But it seems my little joke was out of place, once again. What has you so rattled, little one?"

And this time, he actually made space and dropped the joke-y act, looking a bit worried. Which only added more pressure to the well in your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut to hold back any tears that tried to fight their way through, making yourself feel ridiculous.

"It's... there's this guy."

You swallowed sour spit down, licking your lips quickly before opening your mouth again, voice less shaky than you were feeling. "I saw him two weeks ago when I went grocery shopping with Niffty. He... he asked us for directions, I didn't know where the place he wanted to go was, and that was that. But ever since..."

Alastor's frown deepened. "Ever since then..?" he prompted carefully.

"...he kind of... pops up whenever I leave the hotel... he just shows up out of nowhere and asks me things. Follows me, doesn't listen when I tell him to leave me alone, doesn't know boundaries.." you balled your fists again, brows twitching down at the thought. "And today.. he tried to grab me, and I panicked, and I kicked him and he looked like..."

You looked back to the glasses.

"...it felt as if he was about to do something."

Alastor stared into you with these piercing eyes. It wasn't creepy, you didn't feel scrutinized or looked down on, and this wasn't the first time. Still, you felt that strange sense of unease in his intense gaze, like a cold hand was wrapped around your spine, running shivers down your back. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, just... different. It had been months since you started your new job in the Hazbin Hotel as a bellhop, helping Charlie and Vaggie out in general. You weren't one to believe in redemption, but the work was easy, the residents nice and life, despite being dead, was good. It wasn't exactly peaceful, since living together with the radio demon sometimes had its challenges, but Alastor proved time after time that even if he could be quite eccentric, he was a good man deep down, funny and smart and interesting. Someone you could consider a friend.

That, however, didn't mean that he didn't spook you from time to time. He straightened his shoulders, brushed out imaginary dust from the sleeves of his suit, and when he spoke, there was an unmoving threat in his voice that he almost always hid behind his grins.

"He attempted to harm you?"

You furrowed your brows and stepped closer, leaving a little bit of space between you.

"I don't know... it felt like that. I didn't give it enough time to find out, I just ran back here."

"Smart girl.", he just commented, leaning over you to also watch the street through bulky glasses. You sighed and glanced out the windows. The sky had dimmed, red tinting the streets as it always did down here in the evenings. A few stray sinners stumbled along, either searching for a victim for the night or going home from their own sins. Still no trace of the demon. You could still feel the hot air of his breath on your neck when he bent forward. You grimaced at the thought of the stench of his sweat on the sleeves of your jacket.

"God... how am I going to go anywhere with him around?", you muttered to yourself, stepping back further and leaning against the table, burying your face into your hands. Alastor perked up at that. He tapped his cane against the floor.

"Oh, well I can't in good conscience allow my dear employee to fear the streets of the pentagram because of a silly pest."

You didn't catch his meaning. At least, not immediately. You shot a glance his way, giving him a skeptical look, furrowing a brow in confusion. "What do you-?"

He waved his cane, cutting you off, and put an arm around your shoulders. "I shall accompany you, then. When you need to go out, let me know and we'll show ourselves together. That sinner will get the gist then, I'm sure."

Your eyes widen. "Alastor, you're a genius!" you say with excitement as the thought slowly took root in your head, "If this creep thinks we're a couple, he might stay away."

"A what now?", Alastor asks, his smile faltering ever so slightly. However, his question was lost in your sudden enthusiasm, your excited rush of thoughts now loud and clear in your voice. "Then we should play the role in every aspect. We have to give off couple vibes, maybe show some PDA, nothing overboard, I know you don't like that kind of stuff, but holding hands might be believable enough. Oh, you're the best, Alastor."

"Yes, yes... so I've been told...", he replied with the usual giddy tone, although his voice sounded a little thick with white static.

You didn't pay much attention to it though, feeling a weight drop from your shoulders at the prospect of keeping the nuisance at bay. The whole idea might seem a bit strange to the others, but if it helped, why not?

***

"Well then, darling, ready to give the performance of your lifetime?", Alastor called the moment you exited the elevator. He was practically hopping over, grinning at you with a mixture of smugness, amusement and... something else. His smile grew, showcasing his pointed, sharp teeth with a flash. He was looking as dapper as always, dress coat neat and perfectly in place, cane ready at his hands - the radio demon as he breathed and lived.

"I hope so..." you muttered distractedly while straightening the hem of your uniform and peeking around the lobby. It was early morning and you had a not-so-short list of errands to run for the hotel. Alastor had been nonchalant about the trip when you asked him to accompany you last night, and you had half-assumed he had some matters of his own to tend to, or just flat-out backing out. But he just waved his hands and told you he'd be there at 8 a.m. sharp, which he was. In ALL the ways.

As it turned out the rumors of your plan must have traveled down the hotel grapevines fast and after a small bang and a hissed “Sssshhh!” from the left you saw the curious faces of Charlie, Niffty and Angel poking out the kitchen door, spying from afar and watching you and Alastor with bated breaths and loud-yet-shushed giggles.

"Don't tell me you're having a second thoughts on me accompanying you, dear.", Alastor stepped closer, wrapping his fingers around your hand in a tight grip, either oblivious to the audience or utterly non-fazed by them. You shook your head no, grimacing a little as your body tensed up in a bit of... concern. Not because of what you were about to do, no, it had everything and nothing to do with him and the... um. Hand. Touching.

"We can hear you, you know.", you hissed in the direction of the whispered squeals at his gesture, face scrunching up when a peal of giggling broke out and Angel audibly snorted through a quickly closed door. "Jus' be careful, tits, if 'ya go further than that with the oldtimer 'ya might need to buy some protection while 'ya out."

***

The plan was quite simple, but you guessed it had the possibility of either working like a charm or the idiot getting so mad, he could lose it and try something stupid.

Nevertheless, with Alastor on your side you didn't feel as paranoid and suffocated about leaving the grounds of the hotel. And his idea had worked out brilliantly so far. Not a single sign of your stalker, you had only met the usual faces on the main market road of the Pentagram City - maybe they stared a little more... okay, a LOT more, seeing you arm in arm with Al - and you ran into Angels' friend, Cherri Bomb, when you had to get some permits renewed. She had been friendly but extremely surprised and curious about since when you and Alastor, THE Radio demon were parading around 'like a pair of fuckin' newlyweds', in her words.

Alastor tried to brush her off with a monotone "What can I say? The good Lady just adores my presence.", squeezing your hand a little tighter, but his answer didn't satisfy her, so Cherri tried to pry into you, raising a brow and shooting you a smirk. "Al is a fun guy and interesting to talk to and spend time with. I like his company.", you shrugged, signing a paper, avoiding looking the cyclops into the eyes while you felt your ears redden.

It took her a good minute of blank stare, but when her grin slowly grew wider, you had no choice but to warn her with a hard stare and a small shake of your head. She rolled her one eye but she made a gesture of sealing the lips, still oogling the connection of your hands with impish delight.

At that moment you felt a squeeze on the hand, still in Alastor's grasp and his heavy stare from your right. His smile seemed fixed, a bit on the strained side, although his gaze remained cheerful.

"Everything wrapped up here, dearest?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Almost done, just this document and the hotel can continue to serve alcohol. Husk would give me one hell of a shot if I'd forget that one."

You looked over to see if Alastor would pick up on the joke, but he was staring intently somewhere over your shoulder, so you just filed the form quickly and waved your friend goodbye. He quickened his steps, almost dragging you away as he paced down the street. You almost tripped over you own feet, trying to keep up with him.

"I think your persistent little pursuer has found us, darling. Don't look, just walk."

You sped up, also feeling a presence that had been on your heels a little longer than comfortable, a weighty silence behind your back. Still, as you rounded a corner, you just had to take a tiny peek and you saw, from the corner of your eyes, that the deranged looking coyote was gaining on you, still keeping his distance, his figure only a dark, moving smudge in the distance.

"Um... I guess now's a good time for a Plan B.", you said, halting in front of an antique shop.

Alastor's hand slid a bit lower, only his fingers curled around yours now, his warm touch tingling. "I'm thinking of it. Knowing your weak stomach, darling, bloodshed is out of the question?" he inquired, acting overly interested in a vintage gramophone showcased in the shop window and you snorted.

"You remember that?"

"Dear, it's hard to forget the amount of bile Niffty had to clean out of the dishwasher after you ran into my cooking...experiment."

"Not my proudest moment...", you laughed nervously, feeling cold sweat gather up on your back as you saw the rabid looking demon from the corner of your eye, creeping closer and closer. Alastor gave you a long, thoughtful look, before he spoke again, quietly and serious.

"Then let us both hope you'll stomach Plan B better."

Before you could think much, Alastor turned towards you, untangling his fingers from yours. His now freed hand cupped your cheek, and before you could say anything, he bowed down, tilting his head a bit to the side and gently pressed his ever-smiling lips against yours.

It was not your first kiss in your afterlife, but it might have very well been, seeing as your first response was an electric jolt up your spine. And this reaction wasn't even the weirdest part if the actual kissing part was just some peck. This wasn't a peck. A kiss with lips unmoving wasn't a kiss, it was more of a mouth-touching. This was something way more.

As surprising as the kiss was the tenderness with which he brought his lips to yours. It was gentle and yet so sensual that it sent small currents all over your skin, causing your eyes to close, goosebumps to form along your arms and a nervous flutter to erupt in the pit of your stomach. And maybe, maybe it lasted for just a fraction of the eternity it felt like, but if someone would have asked you later, you would swear he stole more than just a taste with the kiss. The slight push and pull between your mouths left the edges of your skin numb, the press of his smooth and heated mouth stirring up a peculiar feeling inside you that kept growing and rising and..

What was the reason for this again?

Oh yeah, your stalker.

Stalker.

You opened your eyes, seeing Alastor's burning red eyes fixated on something behind you, his expression intense with the hint of arrogance, a possessive smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something about that, the feel, the look in his eyes, made the back of your neck prickle. You blushed a little bit more but caught onto the reason the moment you realized what he was doing, trying to break the kiss to see where the coyote was.

You could only turn your head far enough to see the quickly shrinking silhouette of the demon vanishing in the distance, before Alastor brought his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer together, his tongue slipping between your lips, coaxing your lips to open again. Your own tongue responded and, together they mingled and twined with one another, sending the nerve-ending of your lips into a pleasant tingling sensation.

"A-Alas...tor...", you tried to get the words out as he nipped your lower lip, your eyes falling into those bright, heavy lidded ones of his, eyes which you couldn't stop looking into.

"He.. he's gone."

"Mh. Pity...", Alastor breathed with a soft hum, his chest rumbling at his words. His response had a mixture of sarcasm and amusement in it, but before you could properly ponder on them, your entire mind short-circuited when you realized he made no move to pull away.

Quite the opposite - with his hand sliding to your neck he pulled you onto his mouth again, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips once more, completely shutting your mind down as a quiet, heartbreaking moan escaped your throat.

The fact that you two were in public, still standing in front of some store, all on display for anyone that might come down the road, didn't register in the haze that was slowly, so pleasantly slowly, forming. So lost were you in that fog of heat that the surroundings suddenly got distorted, leaving the alley, the store, the city completely. Your head spun at the sensations, a tremble raked across your nerves as your knees grew weak at the sound of his playful voice, echoing in the void you found yourself in.

"Let's draw it out a little more, darling, hm? Just to make sure."

I asked for adorable steamy fluff and you DELIVERED IT❤️🩷🥰🩷❤️🩷🥰. Thank you for doing my request @fraugwinska .

I swear your stories make my heart skip beats❤️🩷❤️🩷 I need some soft spicy Alastor x Female Reader. Maybe a Morning After scenario with Alastor and the reader (waking up together, being soft and cute. Kisses and stuff and maybe a slight continuation of last night😏😏)

After the last stories I was EAGER to write your request, my dearest @alastor-simp. I've accepted my rank as fluff fairy, and I oh-so-love to write these cute, tender moments!!! Thank you for this ask, I hope I did it justice!

For the best experience, I suggest to listen to Ingrid Michaelson's "Love is', which I imagined the radio to play in the story (and listened to while I wrote it)

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

We only have Forever

The birds in hell weren't like anything on earth – their songs were not sweet and melodic, but rather ominous and melancholic.

Which is why, when you were woken by an unusual, bright chirping sound, you thought for a split second you were alive again, waking up from an intense, unusually immersive dream.

You shifted, cheeks still pressed into the white, soft pillow and body messily wrapped in cotton sheets, too drowsy to realize that the chirp was not coming from birds, but the little, vintage radio that sat beside the bed in. It quietly came to life, the search for a channel resulting in high, pitchy squeaks and fuzzy static feedback. Which was always the tell-tale sign of a waking Alastor.

The arm around your waist twitched, causing you to sigh peacefully. Your lids fall close and you let it pull you back into the center of the bed, into a warm, waiting body - a soft chest, thinly covered in silky taupe fur that tickled your nose, an underlying, hearty scent of wood and vetiver and the familiar rhythm of another heart drumming against your ears.

You left your eyes closed, relying on the most comforting senses of touch, hear and feel, the latter came into use as the sensation of sleepy, light kisses on the crown of your head that caused your lips to pull into a blissful smile.

"Mornin' my buck."

"Good morning, my doe."

His voice was nothing more of a mumble, still lazy and half asleep, hoarse and slightly deeper than when up and about. When he finally seemed to have picked a radio station he liked, the room was filled with a soft, dreamy song which suited the very same ambiance that was present - happy, in love, slow, silent bliss. It was one of your favorites, and one of the few more modern ones Alastor tolerated.

He ran his slender fingers up your back and shoulders, through the disheveled masses of hair, stroking it gently with his sharp talons, scratching ever so lightly on the scalp. He pulled himself a little more forward, tangling his legs even more with yours in an effort to maximize the connection of your bodies and minimize the space that span between you.

"Hey, easy now or I'll think you're afraid I'll jump up and leave as soon as my eyes open." you teased playfully, as Alastor nuzzled his nose deep in your hair, taking in deep breaths, inhaling your scent and humming in content.

"I had hoped after all my efforts tonight you wouldn't be able to even if you tried, darling."

You flicked his ear in fake indignation, but chuckled and raked your fingers over his back in soft, tender streaks, your fingertips gliding over his spine and sides. He shivered under your touches and melted deeper into you. A rhythmic, shuffling sound joined in with the faint tune from the radio, and Alastor groaned when you purred in lofty pride.

"Damned, traitorous thing...", Alastor scowled, trying to evade the hand that reached for his wagging tail under the sheets.

"Don't you talk like that about my precious friend.", you cooed and caressed the plush fur on his lower back, scratching with nimble fingers close to the base of his tail, the very spot where he was extremely... responsive. Alastor just growled again, missing any angry or mad edge, his tail continuing to thump louder and even quicker and causing him to whine as he failed to stop its excited sway.

"It betrays me."

"No, it only tells me that you're happy."

Alastor tilts his head to brush his lips over your own, almost not touching, a tiny, bittersweet distance between his and your mouth.

"If it's that much more of a conservationist for you, maybe I should stop talking then."

With a faint, sighed chuckle he finally closed the agonizing gap, lips met lips in a slow and flowing embrace, moving almost at the tempo of the song, it's calming beat guiding the cadence and harmony of his kiss. You felt him smile, more relaxed and at ease that his usual signature grin, even though your eyes were closed shut in drowsiness and enjoyment. The slow, lazy, fullness of this morning's intimacy, of your bodies so closely pressed together in ruffled sheets while hell's sun was only slowly rising on the horizon, making out and embracing each other without the need to rush or be somewhere in another hour or so was a rare occasion and therefore worth savoring.

His hands traveled over your hips, up your waist to settle in a gentle, cradling grip around your neck, fingertips grazing the outer edges of the delicate bite mark still there as a reminder of the contrasting feverish passion you both shared last night. With Alastor - It was war and peace, in a circle - hard, unforgiving, passionate desire at the beginning of dusk, and soft, tender and sensual love at the break of dawn. A clash of burning flames and gentle streams, all on an even ground of equals.

You sensed the slight change in the mood, the licks over your parted lips with the warm tip of his tongue soon turned to be deep and demanding, less lazy and more eager movements from his tongue - exploring the insides of your mouth, playfully flicking yours and circling around and between your teeth. His large hand left it's spot in the crook of your neck and pulled on the base of you head, sinking his digits in the tuft of your hair. You moaned softly into the kiss, more of a wanton, sloppy sound rather than anything else and you started to grow flushed, your skin tingling pleasantly under every touch and lick and nibble.

You deeply enjoyed the roughness and depravity you shared in the nights, you really really did. But this, this was what you loved. It was when Alastor wasn't starved for you, endlessly hungry and hasty to devour you but when you were a well prepped meal, slowly cooked and seasoned with care and love that you felt the most powerful connection of your souls - his touches were careful and secure and when he held you in his arms like this, kissed and adorned you like that, every and any gesture or caress spoke so clearly the sentence he had captured your heart with - you are mine and only mine.

"You are saying an awful lot with that body language for someone who wanted to stop talking, my buck." Alastor laughed fondly at your husky breathed words, rolling you on top of him, sheets sticking to the planes of your bare bodies. You threw a leg over him to sit in a straddling position, your face a mere few inches above his as he rolled his hips and swayed your body against his growing length.

“That's the beauty of a loophole, my doe, for no spoken words could express me quite as honestly as this."

Alastor kissed you once more and, now grinning as devilishly as you were used to, let his hands find rest on your hips, ready to start one more of those heavenly nonverbal conversations before you both had to ready yourselves for the hellish world outside of your bedroom.

Again, thank you for suggesting this. And a big shoutout to @minkdelovely, who made my heart skip with her article on 'Pictures of you'. The fluff fairy had you in mind with this, too ;>)

Awww this gives me life is strange vibes with the character Maxine. Alastor is defintely worth taking a picture of❤️🩷❤️🩷 Great Job @fraugwinska

Hi! Hello! 🥰 first of all - big fan, of all your works, from angst through fluff to smut.

I have an idea for a potentially sweet oneshot:

Reader wants to make an album/photobook of all the residents of the hotel but of course Alastor is avoiding it since she's using her phone for it. She quickly notices and sets on a journey to get an old camera and when Alastor asks her why does she care so much about him being in the album, she without hesitation tells him that it's because he's a part of this family and she cares about him. :)

♡ thanks ♡

Heya my lovely ♡ I think we all need some fluff today, and your ask was perfect for it! Thank you so much for your patience and your prompt! I hope after all this wait this tickles your fancy ;> (2.3k words)

"Frank, no, the other left. A little more... Okay, yes, perfect! Now say 'Cheese'!"

The little eggs threw their hands in the air with enthusiastic vigor, chanting everything but 'Cheese' and you had to steady the hand holding your phone to snap their picture while you supressed a giggle. The little buggers sure did look as energetic in the photos as they were while taking them. You laughed as they stormed over to you, climbing over each other to look at the picture and promised them they'd all get a copy before you returned to your room.

You flopped on your bed and looked over your phone gallery - almost everyone in the hotel was in it. Some pictures were little snapshots you secretly took when nobody was looking. Those were your favorite ones: Angel and Husk laughing at the bar, Charlie and her dad, Lucifer, deep in conversation with a flustered looking Vaggie, Pentious and his Egg Bois playing cards. A selfie with Niffty made you smile, her petrified, empty-staring eye next to your smiling face. You had printed out the best of them, carefully working on putting together a thick, handmade photo album.

Taking photos was a passion you brought with you from your previous life - it made your heart all fuzzy and warm to capture precious moments, finding beauty in almost anyone and everything, if the angle was right and the light wasn't too harsh. With your phones' advanced camera app, that wasn't really a problem and most of the residents didn't mind being the object of your lense, Angel in particular was more than eager to get his picture taken. You accumulated so many portraits and body-shots of him, you could fill a whole album just with those alone. Charlie loved taking selfies with you, pulling anyone near her on their shoulders into the frame (mostly Vaggie, since she seldom left her girlfriends side). Husk had been hesitant at first, but after a while, he just grinned and showed off a tad more when you took photos of him mixing drinks - twirling bottles and winking into the camera with a sly smile. Seeing your work, even Lucifer himself agreed to a few goofy snapshots with his beloved ducks, joking that you would have made a killer advertisement worker with your way with a camera as well as your encouraging words. They, however, failed you with Alastor.

Usually content in your company, he, in an instant, was nowhere to be found whenever you snuck out your phone to secretly take a shot, and you could swear, there were times when you were sure he was actually avoiding you. And you didn't like that at all.

You liked him. He was handsome, of course, but also witty and quick with words, and his laugh was contagious, his smile a delight when it was not murderous, and his jokes (though a bit corny sometimes) were always on point and often had you giggling for minutes. You desperately wished you could capture him when he drinks his morning coffee, an image so sophisticated it made the aesthete in you cry, or immortalize the way he casually leaned on his cane when he was pretending to listen to Charlie's newest plans for group activities on film. Yet, you couldn't even so much as reach for the case of your phone before his eyes snapped to you, and he found excuses to escape you once again. It didn't take you long to catch on that his sentient shadow companion was the snitch, watching you and warning him if it sensed your intentions, the damn thing.

So one day, when you were both alone in the kitchen, him stirring the stew he was preparing for dinner and you, cutting apples for the apple-crumble as dessert, you outright asked him if he would take a photo with you.

"HA! No, I don't care for this frivolous digital tomfoolery, dear." the Radio Demon said simply, his shadow sneering at your disappointed expression, and that had been that. And even though you wanted to respect his wish, it felt like something major was missing when you flipped through the pages of the book, seeing the faces of everyone within the hotel except for his. Incomplete.

'And to hell if I can't do something about that!' you thought as you stubbornly turned off your phone and left it on your dresser, determined to go out and find an old fashioned analogue camera. Maybe, with a little luck and another cautious effort of yours, you could convince Alastor after all if the picture was a physical, tangible piece of paper instead of some abstract pixels on a screen.

On to the streets you went, enjoying the strange but picturesque scenery Hell provided. It's colors, shapes, people you walked by. Your keen eyes automatically looked for nice backgrounds and motifs you could maybe capture, and you also were a little excited to return to analogue photography. As convenient and simple as your phone's camera was, the difference in experience was immense. There was a special kind of magic around capturing moments with an old, clunky thing and developing the films yourself you just couldn't artificially replace.

The Voxtech store was a bust from the beginning. Of course, you already suspected that hell's equivalent to Apple probably wouldn't sell anything older than the 'V-Phone 34.2', but to be outright laughed at had been uncalled for. "Analogue camera? You must be shitting me, girl." the clerk said, not even bothering to turn his head from the TV behind the counter to acknowledge you. "Nobody uses that outdated shit-tech anymore."

You left the store in a bad mood and with the strong urge to flip off the guy through the window, but settled for kicking the dumb grinning cardboard cutout of the store's flatscreen-faced namesake, advertising for the 'V-Phone 55.1' instead. Smug piece of shit.

Your search continued through the streets, but with every store you visited - offbrand electronic stores, thrift shops, even a sketchy looking flea market - your hope dwindled. No one seemed to have a single analog camera to sell, and your options ran thinner by the seconds. Feeling defeated, you finally decided to return to the hotel when a store caught your eye. The wonky wooden store sign just said 'Old Crap', displaying a black pentagram globe, a medieval looking longsword under a big porcelain crane and a cathedral radio on a pedestal in the shop window. With a last spark of hope, you entered the shop, ready to give your last penny if needed if they had what you were looking for.

You ran the whole way back home, cheeks flushed and with hell's biggest grin on your face.

The bag on your shoulder bounced and swayed with every step, the newly acquired Polaroid 100 in it's pocket knocking heavily against your hip, and you clutched the small, paper parcel with the packfilm to your chest like a treasure.

"I did it! I found one!", you shouted into the lobby when you entered, immediately catching the attention of a surprised Alastor standing in front of the lobby's fireplace. "Where have you been? You missed dinner, dear." he asked, eyeing you curiously as you ran over to him.

"Out. I don't really know, and it doesn't matter, because look, Alastor, LOOK!" you repeated, almost jumping up and down on the spot as you rummaged through your bag, and his smile faltered a bit as he tried to make sense of your erratic babbling.

"Easy now...What are you going on about, darling?" he asked, confused, and you proudly pulled the camera out, presenting it to him like you found the holy grail.

"See? It's an analogue camera! The only one in hell, apparently, since I spent the whole day combing the entire goddamn city for it.", you explained, and the deer demon's eyes widened at the sight of the vintage gadget. He hesitantly reached out to touch the camera, carefully brushing the tarnished silver metal frame with his fingertips. His brows furrowed as he eyed the device in your hands, and he looked as if he wanted to say something, but you were too excited, cutting him off before he could speak.

"I thought maybe this would be a good compromise, you know, to get a photo of you without it being digital, since you really don't like that! I've never used one like this before, though, but the seller told me how it works! It's easy, really. You put in the film..." You did what you said with nimble fingers, almost shaking with anticipation whilst Alastor just watched you silently, his hands folded behind his back and a curious tilt of his head. "… then you pull the tab here, and it's ready to use! Like this!"

You pointed it at the fireplace, making sure the Alastor could see that you didn't direct it at him as to not spook him away before you really convinced him, and pressed the shutter, the proud smile still on your face.

With a long whining squeak, the whole thing fell apart in your hands, and you stared in horror as the pieces of what once was your camera clattered through your fingers to the ground and tiny screws rolled in different directions. You didn't move a muscle. You didn't even breathe. All that had transpired in the span of the last few seconds was too much for you to process, and you were on edge of tears as your face fell. The initial shock was quickly replaced with despair, and the welled up tears finally fell from your eyes. You felt incredibly stupid. How could you be so naive to think that was a good idea, when clearly, the whole goddamn universe was telling you otherwise?

Alastor's ears flicked when the first quiet sniffle broke the silence, and he glanced over at you. "I don't suppose it was meant to do that?"

You didn't say anything, just shook your head, trying to hide the wet streaks on your face. Alastor patted your hair lightly in an attempt to console you.

"Mh I see... it's a pity, really. I hope you didn't invest too much in that old thing, sweetheart."

You laughed humorlessly. "Only my savings."

The hand on your head froze still. "You surely mean part of it, right dear?"

"All of it."

He looked at the pile of loose leather and broken metal, then back at you. "All of... Why would you do such a foolish thing, darling?"

The question hit you harder than the door had slammed shut behind you when you stormed out of the Voxtech store earlier today. You shrugged.

"I just thought... I guess I just really wanted to get a picture of you." you confessed, wiping your face. It sounded so silly, when said out loud. "It's so nice, to have everyone I came to love in my album, like a family. And I felt like you were the only one kind of... left out, and I just..."

You had trouble explaining to Alastor exactly what was the motivation behind your thoughtless purchase - it all came together so naturally inside your head, but now that you tried to convey it out loud, your reasoning felt childish and embarrassingly naive. You lowered your head, tears blurring your sight, when a hand softly brushed over your cheek. You looked up at him, startled, as the back of his hand brushed away stray tears.

"Your heart was really set on this, wasn't it?"

His voice was gentle and soft as he spoke, and you could swear his eyes had a weird gleam when you barely nodded. You felt your cheeks blush and attempted to turn your head to avert your eyes, but he suddenly pulled you into his side, his face pressed against yours as with the flick of a wrist, an old folding camera appeared in his hand that he held, lens pointing at the both of you.

"Smile, my dear."

A poof and a flash later, and he held a developed photograph in his fingers, handing it to you with a smile much more genuine than you've ever seen. "There you go. I hope this'll do."

The picture was crisp and in stunning, vibrant colors, and you couldn't tear your eyes from the way his red irises seemed to come alive and the how it perfectly captured the pink hue on your cheeks, face flustered and yet oddly beautiful next to his own gleeful, picture perfect face.

"It's perfect." you breathed out, pressing the picture to your chest as tears, this time ones of gratitude and something warm and entirely unknown to you, threatened to spill over again. Alastor tutted at the wet sound, his long fingers tenderly wiping them away before they could fall.

"There, there. No more tears now."

You nodded, unable to lift your head as the feeling of his touch lingered on your cheek and you shyly looked away, hands still firm on the photo and over your racing heart. He cleared his throat and brought a fist to his mouth in a quick not-cough, and from the corners of your eye you thought you saw the faint traces of a blush on his face before it was already gone.

"Come now, there's still dinner left to be had, dear, and I am very interested to know who sold you this..." he picked up a piece of the shattered device from the floor and held it between his thumb and his index finger, the expression in his red eyes unreadable, and there was a certain intensity to his gaze you couldn't interpret, but it certainly made your heart race a little faster. "faulty device. I fear he and I need to have a little word."

THIS WAS SO GOOD❤️🩷❤️🩷 Thank you @fraugwinska for the birthday gift, it means a whole lot.

Ok so it’s going to be my birthday tomorrow and your the best writer I know that can do fluff so please for me do an alastor x reader birthday fic. Can be romantic and fluffy and do not rush it. Take all the time you need. Thank you

Happy Belated Birthday, my darling @alastor-simp! <3 I wanted to publish it on your special day, but it wasn't ready then and I didn't want to deliver something sub-par - But here you go! <3 I hope you had a wonderful day and this little gift brings a smile to your face! And thank you for always making me smile with your interactions! <3

You shuffled in the darkness, sheets clinging to your thighs and entangling in between your arms. Hell's summer nights, not unlike those on earth, were hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. But it wasn't the heat or the stickiness of your skin that woke you.

Tiredly you blinked, trying to focus your eyes to make the room at least a little more visible. There was the typical static noise that always buzzed around Alastor's and your room - something you grew so accustomed to that you weren't able to fall asleep without it anymore. But there was another sound, barely audible, coming from the other side of the bed.

"Al? " You murmured sleepily. He wasn't next to you as he usually was. You had become so accustomed to having him curled around you like a cat, that sleeping alone was a rare and unwelcome thing.

"I didn't mean to wake you yet. Ignore me, dearest, do continue sleeping." He replied with a small smile. Alastor sat by the open window, curtains drawn and only his silhouette visible against the purple and pinkish glow of the Pentagram's eerie moonlight.

"Mmh... are you okay? What are you doing?" You groggily sat up, the covers falling away and exposing the bare skin of your chest to the nightly air. You couldn't make out his expression, but his voice sounded smooth and a little husky from sleep.

"Waiting." He answered simply.

You knew better than to ask him what he was waiting for - there was a reason you and him quickly became 'an item' as Angel loved to tell anyone who'd want to hear it. A couple, Charlie said, though it sounded too mundane to you. Partners was the word you and Alastor agreed on. It was a complex term to describe your relationship with the overlord - he was your equal, your friend and lover and the one person who could truly understand you and vice versa. He was your home.

You stood from the bed and shuffled your feet to his side. You didn't feel any discomfort walking practically naked through the room - after all, it was hot as hell (pun intended), every bit of clothing would've just added to the unbearable heat. And who'd be watching anyway except for Alastor, who had basically mapped out your entire body more than just once?

Alastor shifted on the wide windowsill, making a space for you to sit in his lap. You settled your back comfortably against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin and began to gently caress the arms that instinctively wrapped around you. The nightlife of Pentagram City illuminated the streets below you, there were faint sounds of honking cars, small booms from ongoing turf wars and a steady buzz of voices filling the air - the night was the most lively part of a hellish daycycle for most sinners. In the distance the Heaven's Embassy tower stood prominently erect, counting down the days until the next extermination right below the clock, indicating it was just five minutes before midnight.

"I will wait with you." You murmured, closing your eyes again and relaxing completely in his hold. You wanted to give him the same sense of security that he provided you with, even if all you could do was keep him company.

"You don't know what we'll be waiting for, my love." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't have to." You replied. Alastor chuckled. He leaned down to kiss your neck softly and you tilted your head in order to give him more way. "I'll always be here, with you, when you need me." You added.

There was a moment of silence as Alastor held you close. Your breathing evened out again, your hands slowly falling from his arms. Your head rolled onto his shoulder and your chest rose and fell gently in a calm, hypnotizing rhythm. Alastor sighed in contempt while you were fighting the sleep, humming now and again to keep yourself awake.

The clock ticked, the volume of the noises outside rose and fell in an ever changing pattern. He waited, his eyes fixed on the fingers of the clock, his hands absentmindedly combing through the silky lengths of your hair.

It was a minute to midnight.

He could smell it in the air. The magic, the static, the energy. His shadow came to his side, a quick nod confirming that everything was in place.

Alastor turned his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as the clock struck midnight and he whispered.

"Happy Birthday, my darling."

Your eyes fluttered open, you were almost drifted back to sleep when his words reached you and you tried to turn in his arms, but Alastor kept you firmly in place, chuckling at your tired movement. You turned your head back and craned your neck, looking up at him, confused.

"What did you say?"

"Shhhh, love. No questions for now, just listen."

The streets below were suddenly silent, the constant noises stopped abruptly, as if someone had shut them off with a remote control.

You heard a soft melody, like a music box's tune, rising through the window. It was familiar, a song you've heard many times before, and each time it reminded you that it was your favorite.

"Darling, close your eyes." Alastor instructed.

"Why?"

"Come now, dear, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then just do as I say, and close your eyes."

And you did as you were told. A shiver ran through your body when the world was suddenly covered in darkness, sleep no longer on your mind - you were suddenly wide awake.

Alastor let go of you, gently helping you to your feet, taking your hand in his and leading you through the bedroom. The melody got louder as you neared the balcony door and you had a strange feeling that Alastor had something everything to do with it.

When you stepped outside, the wind brushed past your naked form and a cold shiver ran down your spine. Your grip tightened on Alastor's hand and his thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of your hand.

"Keep your eyes closed." Alastor instructed, his hand leaving yours. You felt him move away from you, his warm body no longer a support, and you instinctively reached your hand forward to try and catch him, but you only grasped air.

"Trust me."

You heard the static buzz around you. Alastor was using his powers.

The next moment you felt a soft material wrapping itself around you, the texture of the fabric unfamiliar, but comforting and incredibly soft.

"May I open my eyes?" You asked, a smile on your lips as you guessed his answer.

"Not yet." Alastor's voice was behind you, he was still oozing magic, the energy crackling and fizzing around you. The material tightened around your form and you had an inkling of what it was that he conjured for you.

"Well then, darling. Now, you may look."

You opened your eyes.

Standing in front of you, his red eyes shining bright with excitement, was your partner, your equal, your best friend. His signature suit was replaced with a black, silky dress shirt, a matching bow tie around his neck, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his pants and shoes changed to a darker shade of the same material.

"Wow, you look incredible." You breathed, admiring him in his new attire.

"I am flattered, my dear. But I think you're the one who truly outshines the stars tonight."

You glanced down.

It was a dress, as you suspected. The same style as his, a silky black fabric falling in gentle folds around your calves, delicate lace trimming the hem. It was cinched at the waist, a dark bow tied in the front, the ends of the bow floating down your front. It was the perfect size, not too loose or tight, fitted to your form and hugging you in all the right places, the fabric indescribably cool and soothing on your heated skin.

You were stunned.

"It's... amazing, Alastor, but... What's the occasion?" You asked, still a little dumbfounded.

"Something I've been preparing for for the longest time, my darling." He stepped towards you, a hand stretched out to you which you took without a second thought. He smiled at the undisputed trust, at the instinctiveness of your every move towards him. "Today, my love, is your birthday."

Your eyes widened and a small gasp left your lips. "My... my birthday? How did you..."

"Yes, my love." He leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. "I cannot restore your memories, but I vowed to gift you at least some parts of your life, if I were able to."

You looked up at him, and his smile widened at the adoration and admiration in your gaze. You couldn't recall anything from your life above, a blank slate waking up in hell, and you only shared how miserable and sad you were about that fact with Alastor when things got serious. He was the only one who knew how lost you felt, how the feeling of a missing identity made you restless and frustrated. You remembered the first time you two talked about it, the look on his face as he realized just how much trust you were putting into him by telling him the truth. Back then, his smile had been laced with incredulity, his disbelief strangely making his face look softer and kinder, more approachable. But in the weeks and months after, when he understood the seriousness behind your words, how much at least having some knowledge of your past life - however vague or unknown it would be - meant to you, this disbelief was replaced first by sympathy, and after a while determination.

Determination, apparently, to figure out a way to find and bring some of those memories back to you. And now he was here, dressed to the nines in the middle of the night, revealing that he had managed to find a significant one - your birthday. Handing it to you as a gift, right when the clock struck to begin it.

"My darling?" Alastor tilted his head, catching your attention. "Is everything alright?"

You didn't answer. How he found it out? No clue. How long did he know? Didn't matter. Did he find anything else? Didn't care. He had brought to light something you gave up on having so long ago, something so meaningful to you, that in that moment you couldn't find the words to express it in a satisfactory manner. You moved forward instead, arms rising to circle around his neck and using your own, meager powers to levitate yourself to bring his lips as close to yours as possible and his grin grew wider in response.

Alastor laughed and licked your lower lip playfully. "I take that as a yes."

And his lips finally met yours. The kiss was slow and gentle, no hurried movements or demands of any kind. Alastor could be a selfish partner, especially in taking claim over you. But not today, not right now he wasn't. He was only giving, not taking. Pouring every ounce of feeling he had towards you - impish joy and mischievous happiness and passionate desire and cocky pride - back into you, transferred through gentle swipes of his tongue against yours and wistful sighs that felt cool against your lips. It was a rare display that you weren't the only one that trusted their partner wholeheartedly - Alastor surrenderred to you willigly, gladly, and it weighted on your heart even more than the actual gift he intended for you.

When you broke away from the kiss you could swear there were sparks visible flying between you and him. Your breaths mingled as your foreheads rested against the other's, and you took the moment to collect yourself and speak.

"I have no idea how you did it, Al, or if I even want to know, but this is... Incredible. Thank you." You purred, nuzzling his nose affectionately.

"Of course, I am quite impressive, my love. But we are far from done." Gently, his long fingers gripped your chin as he pushed you away a little, encouraging you to open your eyes. His smile was a little wild at the edges and his eyes glowed with an excitement that promised mischief and thrill. You've seen this look before.

"Come now, darling. If we're to celebrate your most important day, we might as well make the most of it." He pulled you into a dance, your favorite song playing from within him - the perks of being the Radio Demon. You felt your dress gliding over your legs in smooth waves, and the soft fabric of his shirt under your fingertips as he swung you into another turn. With your past being his present, you thought, the real gift was a future with Alastor by your side.

And this future would be worth sacrificing your memories all over again.

Got tears in my eyes from reading this😭😭 Thank you so much for doing this ask. This hit very close to home to me to since I deal with self images problems as well, and this felt like a very warm hug being given to me. You inspired me to write a story like this as well. Thank you again

Since your the queen of fluff, I had to make this request.

It’s more an angst/comfort/fluff, but I want to see Alastor dealing with his girlfriend/lover having body dysmorphia. The comfort in O Mother Mine for him was beautifully portrayed and I want Alastor to provide comfort back. Cant wait to see what you write🩷💖❤️

This was - and still is - an ask that hit very much home for me. Struggling with my self image and a long, very taxing time living with an ED since my teens, I had to take my time writing this - Because with all this history weighing in my own back pocket, I wanted to write something my younger self would've found comfort in reading. Which is why there's a lot of my own experiences woven in. Thank you for this ask, my dear. And to all who fight the fight against their own head each day - I see you. And you are worthy of every bit and piece of love, external and internal. I let our dear deer take it from here.

TW: Explicit depictions & mentions of ED and body dysmorphia - 3k words

“Why don't you want one? Do they look bad? Don't you like my chocolate chip cookies?”

Niffty stared at you, her one big eye glazed and watery, and you felt that at her whining remark all eyes were on you. Shit.

You had been at Charlie's group therapy activities for hours by now, everyone was exhausted and hangry enough for Vaggie to intervene and propose a lunch break. You managed to discreetly dodge every dish that was going around the table, making sure to have an alibi piece of bread and a few leaves of salad on your plate, just in case anyone would look at you funny, and it was good that you did. You glanced around the table to find Alastor of all people staring at you from the other side, and pretending obliviousness you turned to Angel with a smile, laughing at whatever he said, and shoved a few bits of salad into your mouth. ‘See, I'm eating, all good.’ 

You thought the worst was over when the others pushed their dishes into the middle of the table with content sighs and filled bellies. But then Niffty had been hopping around, offering everyone the masses of cookies she had been baking with Pentious the evening before, and Niffty was just not dodgeable. 

“Aw Niff, of course I do, and they look amazing! But I'm so full, stuffed, I really can't take another bite.” Perhaps you imagined it, but you thought you heard a static crack of feedback and you shot a quick glance over to Alastor, but he was drinking his After-Lunch coffee with closed eyes, detached and apparently trying to drown out the babbling sinners around him. Irritated, you turned to the little, pouting cyclops girl again, your voice purposely louder as you said “Tell you what, I'll take one now and save it for later, okay? I can't pass up on your delicious treats, can I?”

That seemed to do the trick, and when you wrapped the cookie you took from a beaming Niffty into a napkin and slid it in your pocket, she and everyone else seemed satisfied and they turned their attention elsewhere - At least you hoped they were.

Another few long, dragging hours later Charlie finally released you all, and the communal groan of relief was only overlapped by the pitter-patter of multiple pairs of feet rushing behind Husk to the bar in desperate need for a strong drink. You were contemplating to join them, even if it was just for a glass of water, but that thought was instantly buried when Angel called over to you.

“Oy, toots, come on and drag ‘ya fat ass over here, I need ‘ya to tell sourpuss here to let me pluck his overgrown eyebrows. Bitch is starting to look like Frieda Kahlo.”

It was an innocent, friendly-meant remark. You knew that. Angel was your friend, you knew that. The laughter that followed his call was a reaction to his crassness. You knew that. But your already aching stomach twisted, and it took everything in you to keep your face from crumbling, and the smile on your lips felt fragile when you answered.

“No can do, Ange, I’m heading to my room. I feel a headache coming up. See you guys later.”

You hurried out the hall as fast as you allowed yourself without looking like you’re fleeing, passing Charlie in vivid conversation with Alastor, throwing her a dismissive wave of the hand when she broke off in the middle of her sentence to ask if you needed anything and ignored the red eyes that were burning your back as you speeded to the lift.

For a moment you felt safe inside the elevator, closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall to deeply breathe in and out to calm your racing thoughts when the doors closed. But then you opened them again, your reflection was staring back at you from the mirrored wide wall of the lift cabin. You stared blankly at the hated body in front of you, eyes mapping every curve that was too wide, every point your clothes wrinkled over a roll of fat. 

Oy toots, get your fat ass over here…Fat ass..Fat...

You ran out of the cabin the moment the 'ding' announced your arrival at your floor and the doors opened, vision blurry from the pooling tears. As soon as you slammed the door to your room shut and turned the key in the lock behind you, you sobbed, leaning your head on the hard wood of your bedroom door. Tears were streaking your face as you sank down to sit on the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, shoulders shaking from suppressed and failed attempts to cry silently. The room was silent, but your head was loud. Too loud.

Honey, you can't go to school like that, you look like a stuffed sausage. Go back and change…

No, pumpkin, the hamburger is for daddy. You’ll eat a salad, like mommy. Don’t you want to be as beautiful as mommy…

A Bikini? Wow, someone's feeling brave today...

You'd look so beautiful babe, if you'd only lose a few pounds...

Oy toots, get your fat ass over here...

"Shut up, shut up, shut up." It was no use. Begging them to stop never helped. Your hands pressed down on your ears but they couldn’t silence the insistent, ghostly voices inside, louder and louder and louder, repeating the same sentences over and over again and you wanted to rip them off, just to maybe get them out, deafen them, make them…

“Stop that now, Darling." Two hands that were not your own were on yours, long fingers peeling them away from your ears and taking them in tender but firm grips to pull your arms apart. Those foreign hands were dark and warm and much bigger than yours, holding you by the wrists as they pulled you away from the door and back onto your feet. Without releasing them, you felt a chest pressing against your back as the hands on your wrists guided them into an embrace, cageing you with crossed arms in front of you in warmth and the firm, humming body of Alastor. "There now, that's much better isn't it. Now breathe, dearest, with me. Do it with me."

Your mind was a haze of scattered and pained thoughts and fears that were struggling and lashing out to the surface, but they quieted into soft whimpers and whizzing like a dying steam train with every steady, deep inhale Alastor took with you, his chest rising against your back and his breath steady in your ears. He waited a few moments after he had made you breathe normally again before letting go and gently turning you to face him, hands now on your shoulders as you avoided his eyes, but when he looked at your face and your tear streaked cheeks he wiped the wetness away from your skin with the pad of his thumb.

"Why did you come?" You sounded husk and defeated. You knew your jig was up. You've been found out. At last.

"How did I not come sooner would be the better question, darling." Alastor answered, leaving his hand cupped on your cheek, thumb still in mid-stroke as he talked to your averted face. His voice was clear, even-keel, just loud enough for you to hear. And you heard him all the better for not facing him, his signature transatlantic accent and theatrical flourish in his tone, always so strong and prominent, was missing entirely as he continued. "For a few weeks now I've suspected that something was not right with you, my dear. Though I didn't want to press the matter, today has confirmed this. You've not eaten any of the food prepared, spare the few bits of greenery that wouldn't even nourish the roaches that pester this hotel, and we both know you only did because you knew you were being watched."

Watched by him. You sighed quietly at the accuracy, finally turning to look at him, awaiting to find judgment and ridicule, though the red deer demon didn't move at all. He just carried on his stroke with the thumb under your eyes, which started tearing up again, his expression strangely soft.

"My shadows reported that you were hiding food given to you just to throw it away later, and I took notice how you constantly avoided reflective surfaces. Darling, your image must haunt you and I cannot imagine the reason why. I find myself asking: What would drive you to starve yourself, to hide from mirrors and cut your eyes to any remarks looking for underlying maliciousness?"

What a loaded question, asked so simply. And he seemed honestly confused. No smirk, no tilted head. You paused for a long while before answering him.

"You... you won't understand, Alastor."

"Then help me to, darling." He coaxed you, now moving both his hands to hold your face and pull your head closer to lean his forehead to yours, looking firmly in your eyes. And it dawned on you then that the radio demon, the overlord who never revealed weakness, never showed real emotions or shared much with anyone, the one demon who walked these halls smiling and sneering with menace and mystery and endless pride, was purposely and genuinely showing you that he cared.

Maybe it was the fatigue and the despair finally getting the best of your defense system. Maybe it was because he wasn't just anybody. Alastor was so many things but most importantly, he was your friend, had been ever since you and him found mutual interests in each other in countless nights that were spent in quiet by the fireplace in the hall. He liked your level-headedness, your ability to listen, really listen, patiently and actively. You liked his vivaciousness, the vast knowledge of him that he could share when one was just willing to let him talk. Yes, the others were nice, and yes, you felt close to all of them after a few months. But you felt the closest to him, proven by the fact that not Charlie knocked on your door, or Angel noticed you were paler and thinner than weeks ago. But Alastor. Maybe you just needed that final push and he had given it to you.

So you spilled. Through sobs, tears and sighs, you told him everything:

From your family that wouldn't stop comparing you with your thinner friends, fostering a hatred for food because of misguided care. You shared that your health became less and less important with every diet and lost pound, seeing your aching stomach as a sign of sucess. How you'd hate yourself for lack of discipline when you starved yourself so much your brain snapped and you ate any- and everything you found until you felt sick and disgusting. How your friends while alive were never intentionally hurtful, yet dismissive about your insecurities, complaining to you about their sizes while you felt like they were mocking you, being stick thin and conventionally beautiful. And you told him about your one and only boyfriend, who accepted the relationship under the pretense that you'd change to fit his preferences, always waiting for you to drop weight he saw as too much, to shape you the way he wanted you to be, threatening to keep you secret from his friends and family until you did. And you did. But you paid the bitter price - got cheated on while you counted calories, and when you finally reached the set weight he dictated, he left. Leaving you hungry and confused, thin and sick and so, so lost.

With every word his hold on you grew tighter and tighter. But so did yours on him. This time, it was him who listened quietly, never interrupting, and only at the mention of that asshole ex is when he made a sound, his ears went flat against his skull as a low growl rumbled in his throat, but his expression remained perfectly stoic, absorbing your words quietly. After you finished you leaned heavily against Alastors chest and hid your face there, feeling drained and guilty for soaking his expensive coat with your pitiful tears. Your entire body was numb with exhaustion and pain, so was the emptiness inside of you that your self-deprecating thoughts have been inhabiting for years, and you dreaded the response Alastor could give to your pathetic life-story.

"All those people have proven to you to be thoroughly disappointing." was what Alastor said first, speaking very softly with his chin leaning against your scalp. "It makes the blood call for revenge when thinking about the throes you've had to put up with. You don't owe anybody to change anything about yourself that you do not wish to."

You couldn't hold back another tear that rolled down your nose and onto Alastor's shirt, clinging tighter to him and shaking your head against his shoulder, nuzzling his shirt in desperate and trained denial of comforting words.

"Aren't they right though? I'm not like Charlie, or Angel, or even you. I'm not...they are so… just... look at me." You muttered and tried to push out of the hug to avoid looking him in the eye, but the demon didn't give.

"Oh, I am." He gave you a stern stare, unintimidating and almost tender as he pulled you back closer. "Darling, I am looking at you, more than you think. And all I see is a strong, intelligent and beautiful little sinner, so willing to give everyone more grace and gentleness than herself that she hides from every compliment she deems unworthy of her, ashamed of her lovely shape that was the source of so much torment." Alastor sighed, cupping your face in a loose grip, shaking his head in disbelief. "Everyone of us has flaws, we are inherently imperfect creatures, some more than others, and yet you've managed to convince yourself those flaws and imperfections define you in their entirety."

Your instincts told you to flee, to run from this kindness that was offered to you so alluringly. It has to be a trap, your head told you, don't trust those words, don't give in. And you almost tried to, your muscles tensed as if to bolt, your breath quickened as if about to run, your heart pounded as if preparing to fight his arms for release. But you didn't.

Maybe, a long forgotten voice spoke in your mind, maybe it wasn't a trick. Maybe he was earnest, like he had been the past couple months in your company. He's here now, isn't he? Holding you and reassuring you and calming you in a way no one ever had. He hadn't put an inch between him and you to allow your doubts space to creep back in, keeping you at his side - not just now, but over the last weeks continuously, had never spoken ill of you or tried to change you, had no agenda, nothing to gain from lying to you.

Alastor smiled when you sank back into his arms, and this time when he stroked your tears away, he let his fingers come to rest at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. And without a word he leaned forward, eyes half closed, and kissed you on your cheek. His lips lingered for a moment, as if to wait for your reaction, asking a question without words. And you answered it ever so silently, turning your head to meet them with your own.

The kiss was a revelation of truth. Because he was kissing you the way you always longed to be kissed.

There wasn't passion in it, it wasn't hungry and fast or hard and demanding. It wasn't meant to make you hot or make your legs weak, but to tell you that you were cared for, that you were accepted exactly the way you were, imperfections included, and that all the days you've suffered for the wrong reasons were gone with the past and needn't to be re-visited. That you were enough. You always have been.

When he parted from you, Alastor looked content. More than that, actually. Not smiling wide as usually but with eyes sparkling in mirth that could have easily matched that of Charlie on a particularly good day. When he leaned into you again, you almost expected another kiss, but he reached into your pocket, pulling the napkin with Niffty's cookie inside out of your pocket, holding it up expectantly.

"Now, I think it's high time you feed yourself, darling - and you did promise our little Niffty you'd enjoy this later, which it is now."

You stared, first at Alastor, then at the baked good, the guilty conscience you've nursed for so many years creeping back into your thoughts.

"Alastor, I don't know... if I can."

He tilted his head contemplating, turning the cookie in his hand before he snapped it in half, handing you one half while he brought the other to his mouth and raised a brow.

"We'll share it then."

This gesture was everything. It was everything, because you knew he really didn't care for sweet treats. But he cared for you.

You took your half from his hands, feeling the corners of your lips pull into a small smile at the way he scrunched his nose at the sticky thing in his hands when you both bit in. But his free hand found yours, entwining your fingers as he suffered through his bite, and as you watched him him struggling to keep an unfazed expression, you thought that - while Niffty might've put in her best efforts - nothing she or anyone could make could ever sate your hunger more than his lips could.

Tagging my lovely testreaders @bapple117 and @macabr3-barbi3, who really encouraged and reassured me. I love you both, as well as the others in Bapples discord server (TRUST US and join NOW) who never tire of lifting me up when I'm struggling <3

OMG YES WE GOT THAT PART 2 THAT WE DESERVED❤️😍❤️😍❤️😍❤️😍I NEED PART 3 PLEASE, I BEG!!!!!!

Hello beautiful! Not only I just discovered your writing and binds read your entire master list … could I request a part 2 from the eye of the storm?

Maybe something like where the reader is worried about Alastor at night and she goes to comfort him. He asks her to tell him a story while she lays beside him but as he falls asleep he ends cuddling? Tysm and please take all the time you need💕💕💕

Your wishes are my command - I strayed a little from your idea, but I hope you'll like it nonetheless! It's angst and fluff, and a little sweet at the end! And of course, it leaves room for a possible (Spicy) Part 3? ;> Who knows?

This is the second part of a Mini-Series. Part 1: The Eye of the Storm is right over here.

Two weeks had passed since the night Alastor's nightmare almost tore the hotel apart. Your wounds, caused by the sharp claws of the demonic form of Alastor, had healed pretty well and were barely noticeable anymore, thanks to dutiful tending of Charlie and Niffty, except for the scar on your hip, still pink and sore. You didn't mind, though. It was a physical memento of a sacrifice made for someone you deeply cared about.

In fact, you had a hard time forgetting that night, because every time you looked at the scar, the image of the Radio Demon, hunched and sobbing on his bed, flashed through your head, and you felt your heart clench. He hadn't spoken much to you since then. He hadn't spoken much to anyone in the hotel, really. You tried to approach him, but he always seemed to find an excuse to get out of a conversation, or leave the room you entered. When you asked him if he was alright, he laughed it off and waved his hand, telling you it was not worth worrying about. You knew him enough by now to know it wasn't true. You also knew him enough to know that if you tried to push him, he'd retreat further.

So, you just observed him from a distance, the way his smile looked tired when he thought no one was looking, the way his laugh seemed hollow, his eyes dim and exhausted. Sometimes you'd catch him blankly staring at the wall or ceiling or a painting on the wall for minutes, before snapping back and continuing whatever task he was supposed to do.

"I'm worried about him, too."

Charlie was sitting beside you on the lounge set in the foyer, both of you nursing a cup of hot cocoa, while Alastor was preparing dinner in the kitchen, humming some melancholic tune that traveled through the closed door. "But I don't know how to help him. He doesn't seem like he's interested in opening up to me or the others, or talk about what happened. It's as if he's just... shut off."

You sighed, sipping from the drink. "Yeah. He's been getting slimmer too, and always looks so... tired."

Charlie nodded, and you exchanged a glance. "Is there any chance that... maybe he would open up to you? You seemed to have a connection to him more than we were ever able to have with him. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I can't help but think he'd feel more comfortable around you."

"I tried, Charlie - he just... vanishes, before I can even finish a sentence... he avoids me. It's like he's running from me."

Charlie looked into the bottom of her mug, turning the now empty dish in her hands. "...Well, in times like this, we don't want the help. Especially if our pride is involved." she smiled warmly at you, her usual determination now back in her eyes. "But I know someone who would stop at nothing to help him."

Your footsteps sounded much louder in the silence of the night as you climbed the stairs up to Alastors suite. You glanced at the lights, remembering the green sheen and how the swirling shadows in the dimness had made your skin crawl. But the staircase was dipped in the usual golden light, nothing amiss, nothing scary. There was only a faint sound, almost like a static, hanging in the air. Alastors own wards and spell protecting his space, you were sure. Which left the possibility of him already knowing you were on your way. For a moment you hesitated - was it of use to go to him when he'd possibly already fled to evade you? A few nights ago you might've retreated. But after two weeks of watching your friend suffer, your determination prevailed, and you knocked, firmly and resolutely.

A second of silence. Then another one. You raised your hand to knock again when the door swung open - And Alastor stood before you, his grin in place, yet there was a sense of exhaustion seeping through his mask. He seemed taken off guard, obviously he wasn't expecting someone to come visit him late at night, so your prediction had been proven wrong. It was very rare to see the radio demon in anything else than his usual attire. But he was standing before you now, in a scandalously casual ensemble: A crimson robe over an open collared black pajama shirt showing some of his usually hidden, taupe fur, the silk tie loosely knotted at the waist, black matching trousers and without shoes.

"It's mighty late for a visit, dear." His voice held a sharpness and rough edge. But the tired, dull expression behind the grin was already crumbling when he gazed into your face.

"I wanted to see you. I'd noticed you weren't... doing so good after what happened."

He cast his glance everywhere but to you, avoiding your concerned stare. "I've told you before, your concern is absolutely unnecessary dear, I'm fi-" "Alastor, please." you interrupted, gently taking his wrist into your palm to halt his hand from waving his way out of the conversation. You looked at him, and he tried not to look at you, but slowly, oh so slowly, his gaze slipped back to your face, and his composure visibly started to crumble, his grip on his tactical expression slipping like sand through fingers. "I'm not here to judge you. Or to berate you. I'm worried."

He chuckled bitterly, closing the distance between you as his whole stance now seemed to curl. "Worrying is not necess-" "Probably." you shrugged, your hand sliding from his wrist to his cold fingers. "But friends worry, when they see the person they care about suffer." "Friends are a bother." his eyes flickered. "That's true. And yet they care."

He let his head bow forward, and suddenly he reminded you so much of that dark, trembling creature you found on his bed two weeks ago. You never thought the powerful Radio Demon would allow himself to appear like this in front of someone consciously. But maybe you weren't just someone... to him. The thought made your pulse flutter.

"I find myself unable..." Alastor started, his eyes staring at your intertwined hands. "...to find rest these days. I don't feel the need to sleep as frequently as your fellow residents, but... the incident, the dream, what happened - it seems it has rattled me more than I care to admit. What you did for me and what I did to you in return..." He chuckled, but it sounded much weaker, lacking his usually cheerful mockery as his free hand hovered over the side of your waist where the fresh scar sat under your clothes. "The thought of it being repeated feels unbearable."

"That's why I'm here." You squeezed his hand. "I've seen you at your worst and still came back, because I wanted to tell you that I'm neither weary nor scared. And that you don't have to bear this burden alone, Alastor. Please... let me help you."

The Radio Demon stood still, and for a moment you thought he'd retreat again, but then his shoulders relaxed, and the grin melted into a small, tired smile. His hand tightened on yours and he sighed. "Well then, come inside."

As you stepped into the familiar room, you noticed the difference immediately. The curtains were drawn, the lamps were on and the record player was playing quietly, a melancholic jazz piece filling the silence. Alastor had done his best to keep the memory of that night away by repairing the walls and furniture and replacing the shredded bedding and mattress of his bed with brand new ones. So new in fact, they looked like they were never touched.

"Please, take a seat." he gestured to one of the two wing chairs by his fireplace, now burning in warm oranges and scarlets rather than the eerie green you remembered, and as you settled down he joined you in the other opposite to you. The silence hung between you for a moment, neither of you really knowing what to say next. He was intently watching the flames dancing on the scorched wood, and you studied his profile, the soft, dark fur of his ears, his thin, elegant nose and the deep crease between his eyebrows. You had never seen him lower his guard this much. Well, that wasn't quite true - once, in this very room, although under much different circumstances. You could see his hand, resting on the arm of the chair, twitch as if it were fighting an impulse.

"It's funny, isn't it?" he started, his voice a bit too light. "I'm a powerful entity in hell, able to rip and tear and destroy. A feared, powerful, dangerous overlord. And yet I seem to be rendered helpless by my own mind. Laughable, really."

"I'm not laughing." you said quietly, and his head turned towards you, a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Indeed you are not."

"And I think you are far from helpless." You continued, a small smile appearing on your face as you watched a little flame wind itself from a knothole, gaining volume and fizzing strongly. "I've never met a demon as strong-willed and determined as you, Alastor. I think the reason it has been affecting you so badly, is because you have power over everything else. But when it comes to the things happening inside your own head - when you are asleep - you aren't in control, and that can be terrifying."

His gaze was fixed on your face, the crimson of his irises shimmering and flickering. He looked... intrigued. And, something else. Something softer, that made your heartbeat a little faster.

"You are... a fascinating thing." he hummed, and his fingers started to drum on the armrest, his other hand fidgeting, still fighting that strange, hidden urge. "You seem to... calm me. With your mere presence, it feels... soothing. The thoughts of that night don't vanish, but they lose their grip. Like the tempest in me is being tamed." "Is that a bad thing?" you asked, a bit puzzled, and a bit amused.

"Yes and No." He answered, quickly and without hesitation. "I don't depend on others. It's unreliable. Too many factors are involved, and when you care about someone, it means you leave them with the ability to hurt you." His hand was tapping faster. "That sounds like a lonely existence." "Loneliness is the most reliable thing of them all. But..." he sighs and follows your gaze back to his fireplace. The small flame grew into a strong blaze, swishing and crackling loudly now. "...It is also the most draining. And I have to admit that I'm thoroughly exhausted, dearest."

"I'll stay with you tonight." You whispered, leaning forward and reaching out to take his restless hand. The motion surprised him, his eyes snapping back to you. "If you want to." He stared at your hand on his, the fire reflecting on his ruby eyes, and slowly, the twitching and drumming subsided, and his fingers curled around yours, a small squeeze.

"I believe I'd be glad for the company." he uttered.

For the next half an hour or so, you sat with Alastor in comfortable silence, both of your eyes on the flames and hands still intertwined as the jazz faded into blues, slow, melancholic and calm until the fire died down. Sometimes, his thumb drew little circles on the side of your hand, and you took it as an encouragement. His face was back to its tired state, though he didn't seem quite as guarded and withdrawn anymore. When there was nothing more than faintly glowing logs in the ember bed, you shifted your weight and gave his hand a careful tug. "Do you think it's time?"

He swallowed audibly and his eyes closed. "I suppose so." he smiled tightly, rising and pulling you up with him, and you both walked over to his gigantic bed, draped with fresh crimson sheets and matching duvets, untouched, spotless, pristine. He stopped before the side of the bed and for a few moments - he stared down, his grip on your hand almost painfully tight now. You tilted your head, giving him a reassuring smile.

"If you're uncomfortable about sharing the bed I can pull over one of the chairs, I don't mind..."

"Absolutely not." he turned his head, and you could see how flustered his expression was now. "Ah - I mean... no, dear, that's alright."

You left his side and rounded the bed, lifting the duvet without looking at him as you shuffled out of your slippers. If you were honest, you felt just as awkward as Alastor looked, not to mention nervous and anxious and a lot of other complicated things. But you'd be damned to show that now, and risk him retreating. So you settled in, slipping your legs under the heavy covers. They felt just as comfortable as they looked.

You noticed him hesitating on his side of the bed, unmoving, his hands halted at the knot of his robe. You adamantly looked away from him, overly interested in the obscure knick-knacks that were scattered in the cupboards on the opposite wall - it was clear he was struggling to shed his clothes in front of you, even if it was only an overcoat. You heard an airy, quiet chuckle and fabric rustling, felt the duvet lifting again and then a weight dipped the mattress next to you. You could feel Alastor shifting and settling, could hear the shallow, anxious breaths and were aware that his eyes were burning on the side of your head, and you realized that he, too, was doing a valiant job at keeping his composure. You leaned back into the pillows, then he snapped his fingers and there was silence. And darkness.

At the lack of light in your vision, your senses heightened and you took everything in much more intently. His body heat close, his breathing next to you, his faint scent of smoke and herbs surrounding you. How small the space between your bodies was, the last remaining inch a gaping ravine in your mind. The mattress dipped as his body turned, facing yours and now his eyes were right there, glimmering and deep red in the pitch black darkness, following your every movement as you shifted too. You felt your heart hammering loudly and you could almost hear the blood rushing through your body. And you knew Alastor could hear that. Hear your quickened breathing. Feel the warmth of you just as you felt his.

There was a tense, terrifying moment, stretched endlessly until your eyelids fluttered shut - you heard, as much as you felt, the bed dipping under his shifting body weight, and suddenly, the ravine was filled by him and he was all around you, pulling you in sort of a protective embrace as you were surrounded by his warmth. Your head fell against the base of his throat as he tucked your face into the crook of his neck, a shaky sigh leaving him as he wrapped his limbs around you. The sudden proximity caught you entirely off-guard - you knew Alastor had a deep aversion against close physical contact. The hand holding had been a huge success for you, a sign that his trust for you went beyond the ordinary. You had been fully prepared to honor a discreet distance between you and him as to not make him feel more uncomfortable, but to pull you so close like this, voluntarily at that, initiated by him, made you go rigid in nervousness at how to react to it. You could already feel him retreat, that awkwardness from before already flooding back between you as he felt your body stiffen.

"Aah... my apologies, dear, I didn't mean to get so..."

Your reaction was instant, almost instinctively, body already knowing what your mind still was figuring out. Your hands slid around his slender waist as you pulled yourself closer to him, since you believed actions spoke louder than words to soothe the conflict he was battling. One leg came to rest between his, you felt his hips brushing against yours, and your palm came to rest in between his shoulder blades and you buried your face into the warm fur of his throat, and all tension left him, as another, heavier, long-drawn sigh rumbled through him, and he curled his form back around your smaller frame.

"If I'll return to the dreams that caused such havoc..." he mumbled quietly, his tone unusually wavering. "Then I'll get you out again and help Niffty clean up the mess." "Silly girl, absolutely ridiculous." his breath tickled against your ear, but he sounded lighter already. More like his usual self.

His leg entangled between yours, the limb as muscular as his chest and shoulders had always hinted at. His hand was tracing shapes and unknown symbols onto your back, and you wondered if it was a form of spellcasting to keep you safe while sleeping. But whether it was, or just unconscious movements, the gesture alone was making your heart flutter. The fact that it was his very real, very physical, very touchable chest and hands that were pressed onto your barely clothed skin, providing the soft massaging, and the warm, comforting sensation of his body heat against your own - it was exhilarating and overwhelmingly, absurdly, beautifully intimate.

Friends.

You wondered if that word could describe you and the radio demon. There was something... so much more, at least in your head. So much deeper. He meant something different to you than the others, Vaggie, Charlie - something special. A deep emotional pull, an urge to always seek and - absurdly, knowing he was who he was - to protect, the need to understand. To care and to comfort and to feel his presence at your side. An inevitable, chaotic and maybe even borderline obsessive attraction you couldn't and didn't want to escape. It had already become evident to you, especially in these past two weeks, that you felt something deeper for the demon everyone in the hotel was so wary about. He was special to you, yes, an anchor in a world that could throw any horrible thing at you at any given time, a world that wasn't trustworthy nor consistent. But in a weird twist of fate, he was. To you, he was calmness, security, trust, consistency... happiness.

"...Alastor?" You murmured quietly into the darkness, feeling his cheek come to a rest on the side of your head.

"Yes?" he breathed back, voice laced with drowsiness. His hand kept its rhythmic circling motions on your back, and you realized there was a good chance for you both to drift into a blissfully undisturbed slumber like this, which would make waking up in each other's arms so much easier than the alternative.

"I... You're..." But as soon as you wanted to tell him, to say it out loud, words eluded you. Every sound, every combination of syllables suddenly seemed wrong, sounded stupid, like a horrendous mistake. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt a lump in your throat, your feeble courage battling with your cowardice as the idea of giving this whole idea up, putting those dangerous feelings aside and trying to suppress and pretend they never existed for the sake of preserving your one true friendship, fought back with everything it could muster.

It was such a terrifying leap. And wouldn't it be selfish? To burden him with your feelings, to most likely ruin the bond you had with him right now, which made both your lives better with a companionship so rare. Such an utterly idiotic, thoughtless move.

"Darling..."

You could feel a finger push your chin up and his lips were suddenly a hair's breadth from your own, his nose brushing yours and his warm breath ghosted over your skin. How easy would it be to close the gap now, fill that tiny remainder of space with your mouth and he would finally know what you were about to say. The mere thought made your stomach tingle and your breath tremble, you were aching for any form of confirmation that it would be okay, okay to have feelings for him. You'd accept anything he'd give you, even if it wasn't everything you yearned for - you'd take anything he was ready to offer.

"... isn't your principle that actions speak louder than words?"

A blink in the darkness. A gasp into the silence. And then he was finally closing the space between your faces.

Lips - soft and pliable, moving against yours. Tender, soft, firm pressure. A kiss that said everything words would never manage to convey. Your fingers clawed into the silky fabric of his shirt, your nose pressed against his jaw, tears brimming and stinging behind your eyes as you sighed deeply, relief crashing over you and bliss taking hold. It could've lasted for eternity and still would've ended too soon as he gently pulled away, leaving one more short, lingering touch to the corner of your lips.

"Now let's rest. We shall continue this discussion in the morning." he murmured tiredly as his hand resumed its massaging, this time brushing underneath the hem of your shirt as he settled back into his initial embrace. You laid in his arms for minutes with your heart still racing, but now you could hear and feel his too, drumming in his chest. Two rhythms, beating in wonderful, chaotic harmony.

"Sweet dreams." you managed to whisper, sleepily and content as his breathing flattened, his static quieted and his hands came to rest unmoving at the curve of your back.

And with a long, final sigh, the Radio Demon drifted into deep, calm, undisturbed sleep.