doliacuddles

[doliacuddles]

THE BLOOD-SOAKED RADIO.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:

𝖣𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗉𝗌𝗒𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖧𝖺𝗓𝖻𝗂𝗇 𝖧𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗅 𝖠𝖴.

🦇 From the moment his ruby eyes locked onto yours, Alastor became ensnared by the magnetic pull of your very essence. There was something about you—a flicker of life in the darkness, a scent intoxicating enough to defy the emptiness of the world. It wasn’t a coincidence that he found you; it was a calculated act, an unyielding hunt. “You’re... delicious,” he whispered with a dangerous intensity, his fangs grazing your skin as his smile, sharp as a guillotine, sliced through the shadows.

🦇 No matter how far you ran, he was always there, lurking. Sometimes, you could feel his gaze creeping out from the darkness, a cold presence that froze your veins as a sinister laugh echoed in the distance. Other times, he appeared before you, his crimson eyes burning like embers in the gloom. “You run like a frightened fawn,” he whispered one night, leaning over you with a predatory grin. “But don’t forget, my sweet prey... predators always prevail.”

🦇 Alastor didn’t just desire you; he claimed you. Every time someone dared to speak to you, the result was a grotesque spectacle of blood and shadows, as if born from a nightmare. "I don't share what’s mine," he declared, his voice steady as he wiped a drop of crimson from his glove with unsettling calm. His smile never wavered, but in his eyes, a latent threat burned with such intensity that it chilled the air around him.

🦇 His gestures of affection were as unsettling as the dark passion that consumed him. He would offer you withered flowers, whispering with obsession-laden words: “Beauty fades… like everything, except my devotion to you.” Each time you tried to escape his grasp, he found you, holding on with a cruel force, as if you were a treasure he would never release. “Don’t ever defy me again,” he warned, a chilling glint in his eyes, “or I’ll remind you why I am fear made flesh.”

🦇 In the suffocating cell of your own room, you withered slowly, like a flower deprived of sunlight. But to Alastor, you weren’t something to protect; you were something to devour. “You’re mine, darling,” he murmured with an air of possession, just before his fangs sank into your flesh. It was a cruel declaration, a reminder that in his twisted world, love and damnation were inseparable, two sides of the same coin.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

[doliacuddles]

Reader: Oh no! Mr. Radio Demon, please, don't hurt me. Alastor: Don't worry, I'm not gonna TOUCH you. Reader: Why not?! 😔

[doliacuddles]

ৎ⸝⸝⠀UNDER HIS SHADOW ! —

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: 𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋. ᴄᴡ: 𝖯𝗌𝗒𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗒, 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄, 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌. ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: 𝖨𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖧𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗑𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋, 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌, 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾. ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 649

The first time he saw you, newly arrived in Hell, he thought you were an anomaly. Your eyes shimmered with a humanity that this place had long since smothered in everyone else. And when you extended your hand toward him—fearless, free of ulterior motives—something ancient and dormant within Alastor flickered to life. A spark he had forgotten could even exist. He couldn’t fully grasp it then. It was something raw, almost primal—a tangled knot of fascination, gratitude… and a hunger coiling deep inside him like a serpent, patient yet unrelenting.

You became his salvation. His anchor. The sole sweet note in Hell’s cacophony of screams and despair. But what began as gratitude swiftly evolved into something far more potent, more consuming, and even he couldn’t fathom its intensity. Every gesture of yours, every smile, every soft-spoken word was a rope tightening around the withered thing that passed for his heart, binding him, claiming him.

Soon, he couldn’t bear others approaching you. Why should they? What could they possibly offer that he couldn’t? To Alastor, they were flies—petty, insignificant nuisances buzzing too close to something that was never theirs to touch. To you. Every glance, every shared laugh with someone else was a sting in a place he hadn’t thought capable of pain. But that ache only fed his resolve. You were his. You knew it, even if you refused to admit it, even if you didn’t yet understand it.

He relished appearing without warning, materializing at your side with a disquieting ease. Always grinning, always charming. Yet there was something in the way his eyes lingered, in how his attention pinned you like a spotlight, that left you feeling cornered. He never said anything overtly inappropriate. Never crossed an obvious line. But he was there, always.

At night, he found excuses to linger close. At first, it was just the sound of his voice breaking the silence as you tried to sleep. Then, bolder still, he began sharing your bed. Subtly, of course—everything he did was shrouded in a careful veneer of innocence. A casual touch, a fleeting brush of his hand. You’d wake sometimes to find him lying beside you, perfectly composed, as though that was where he’d always belonged. And though his presence unsettled you, there was something oddly comforting about it that you couldn’t quite name.

For him, those moments were everything. The vulnerability you showed in sleep, the quiet trust in not pushing him away—it fed the flames of his obsession. Each night spent near you cemented his conviction: he couldn’t let you go. He wouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

The endless solitude he had endured before finding you, trapped in his own despair, had twisted his need for connection into something dark and insatiable. He didn’t just want your company—he wanted to consume you, to absorb every fragment of you until there was nothing left for anyone else. And though he knew the weight of his devotion might crush you, he couldn’t stop himself. You were his only light in a world he had embraced as hollow and black.

There was something almost beautiful in the way he saw you. To Alastor, you weren’t merely a person. You were an idea, a necessity, the answer to questions he hadn’t realized he was asking. And while he tried to convince himself that his attachment was love, deep down, he knew it was something far more ravenous. Far more selfish.

In his rare moments of honesty with himself, he admitted it: he didn’t want to protect you. He wanted to own you. And though his smile never faltered, though his words remained warm and honeyed, his thoughts were a maelstrom of jealousy, longing, and an unquenchable desire to make you his. Forever.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

[doliacuddles]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ NAVIGATION .ᐟ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.

ㅤㅤㅤೀ⠀. . . ﹙ 자기 소개 ﹚.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

[doliacuddles]

UNDER THE SNOW.

𝖬𝗂𝗓𝗎 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄:

𝖠 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝗈, 𝖨 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖡𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖤𝗒𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗂 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖬𝗂𝗓𝗎. 𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄, 𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

The night was frigid, the wind slicing like a blade as it swept over the snow-laden hills. Mizu stood in silence, feeling the snow’s brittle crunch beneath her feet. Her mind was a storm, yet her face remained still—a mask hiding buried emotions that only the cold could unearth on nights like this. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, you returned, a lingering shadow, a memory neither invited nor fully banished.

You had accomplished what she thought impossible. Unlike others, you never tried to shatter her façade. You had shared your moments with her in calm, allowing her to move at her own pace, and in doing so, you had slipped through defenses she had fought so hard to build. With you, for the first time in years, Mizu was neither the hunter nor the shadowed avenger the world feared. You were like the soft glow of a lantern in a storm—a warmth she had grown to long for in silence, though she’d never admit it.

Close, yet unreachable, she mused in the solitude of her mind. For nothing and no one could be hers, not on the path she had chosen.

Love was a luxury that had cost her far too dearly, one she vowed never to pay for again. And yet, in her moments of deepest frailty, it was your face that appeared—a vision brought to life by night and snow alone. Mizu chastised herself whenever her heart faltered, yet this time her will wavered, captive to a quiet, painful longing: to see you beside her.

She knew she could not ask you to share her world of shadows and blood, not after all she had endured and left behind. But there, under the moon, she allowed herself to imagine it, if only for a heartbeat. She saw herself by your side, no words, just the crunch of snow and the warmth of your hand—a closeness that, to her, felt like a miracle.

But reality returned like an icy blow, reminding her of the isolation of her vengeance and the harshness of the fate she had chosen. The only love Mizu had known was that of loss, and she would not allow that cycle to repeat. With a final look at the snow, she let the memory of you fade, silencing her heart once more.

And still, as she walked into the night, a thought lingered: that despite everything, somewhere in the hidden recesses of her soul, you remained the one thing she could not forget.

[doliacuddles]

HIS FAVORITE.

𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

❝𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅, 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗌, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍.❞

It’s always there, lurking in the darkest corners of the hotel, watching you with that wide, unsettling smile. Though it seems to be everywhere, it never manifests in an aggressive or intrusive way. Yet, the intensity of its red eyes follows you wherever you go, as if its gaze intertwines with the light and darkness of the place, ever vigilant, always present.

If someone from the hotel dares to cross a line or make you uncomfortable, everything shifts instantly. The air grows heavier, and suddenly that figure appears, almost like a shadow moving between the flickering lamplight and the dark corners of the hallways. Without uttering a word, its mere presence is enough to make any intruder rethink their actions and leave, making it clear that you are not alone.

In moments when the hotel’s energy feels overwhelming, when it seems like the walls are closing in on you, things begin to change without warning. An armchair, previously absent, appears right where your tired legs need a rest. Or a steaming cup of tea, which you hadn’t requested, materializes out of nowhere in your hands, its calming aroma enveloping you. It’s as if the hotel itself responds to your needs, but deep down, you know who’s behind it. Although you never see it directly, it’s always Alastor who, with his subtle touch, orchestrates those small moments of relief. It’s his eccentric way of watching over you, making you feel safe without ever exposing himself too much, staying within his own game of shadows and light.

When Alastor is near, the atmosphere of the hotel seems to change immediately. The lights, which usually flicker and blink chaotically under his influence, behave differently around you. Instead of the unsettling tremors, they soften, adjusting to you, dimming to create an enveloping calm. Even the strange and disturbing transmissions from the old radios when he’s near, those echoes from forgotten times, seem to mold around you. Instead of chilling buzzes and distorted voices, the ghostly waves whisper gentle, almost nostalgic melodies, as if offering you comfort. It’s as if he silently dedicates his own personal recital to you, filling every corner of the place with hidden music that only you can appreciate. Through these subtle acts, Alastor communicates without saying a word, filling the spaces with his intangible presence and unmistakable energy.

Yet, what strikes you the most are the little details. Alastor, in his reserved and enigmatic manner, never touches or intrudes on your space overtly. But in his own way, he always ensures your well-being. Doors open effortlessly just before you reach them, as if an invisible hand is guiding you with perfect delicacy. If something dangerous or inconvenient is in your path, it vanishes like magic just before you stumble over it. And when you sense a threat or imminent danger, before you can even react, the situation dissolves like mist at dawn, leaving only Alastor’s shadow at the edge of your vision, watching you from the shadows, always alert, always vigilant. It’s as if he is your ethereal guardian, a presence that never fully reveals itself but is always there, protecting you with his invisible influence.

Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, when you think you’re completely alone, small gifts appear, almost imperceptible but full of meaning. A dark rose, with a deep and mysterious color, rests carefully on your nightstand, placed with almost obsessive precision. Or perhaps you find a book you mentioned only in passing during a forgotten conversation, waiting on your bed, as if he remembers every word you say. These details are not conventional gestures of affection; they are much deeper. Alastor doesn’t need to speak romantic words or empty compliments, because his actions say it all. Each small act is a masterpiece of precision, an expression of his meticulousness and attention, as if everything is designed just for you. In this elaborate game that he seems to control from the shadows, you are the central piece, the protagonist of a show that only he can direct.

Each of his movements is calculated to keep you close, in his orbit, but always just far enough that you can’t quite unravel who he really is. There’s a constant mystery in what he feels for you, an uncertainty that envelops you: Is it genuine affection? An obsession or fascination with you? Or something darker, something lying deep within him? Those questions float in the air, but in the end, they don’t matter much. What really seems to matter is that with you, Alastor, the demon who instills fear in others, changes. With you, his volatile and dangerous essence seems to yield, even if just a little, softening in your presence, as if you are the only one who can calm the storm burning inside him. And, though you don’t fully understand it, you feel that this change is for you, and only for you.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

[doliacuddles]

Y/N: So, what do you enjoy doing in your free time? Alastor: Stalking. Y/N: Oh… Well, I love singing and dancing. Alastor: I know.

[doliacuddles]

SHADOWS OF A MARRIAGE.

𝖱𝖾𝖽.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11

❝In our gazes lie the secrets of a love that never had its chance, trapped in a silence that screams the tragedy of what could have been and never was.❞

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:

𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗂𝖼 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖨𝗍 𝖺���𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖾 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽.

Red. A color that evokes intense passions, capable of igniting a fiery blaze in the heart while simultaneously reflecting the brutality of violence. It is a hue that fascinates and hypnotizes, wielding an almost hypnotic influence over those who behold it, infusing a peculiar and disturbing calm in its presence. It is said that red is universal, harmonizing with anything and symbolizing the power and vitality of life itself. Yet, for you, red was not just a mere shade but a repugnant vision that disturbed your sense of aesthetics and provoked a deep aversion.

The pain began as a deep sting in your abdomen, a wave of agony that left you breathless. You doubled over, trying to stifle the scream rising in your throat, but the pressure only mounted. It was then you felt it: a warm, wet fluid sliding between your legs. You looked down and horror settled in your chest as you saw the pool of blood spreading beneath you.

Your body was engulfed in a sea of red, a tide of your own blood slowly spreading across the room's floor. The coldness of the floor mixed with the warmth of the blood gushing from you, creating a disconcerting and almost surreal sensation. Each spasm of pain ripped through your soul, a brutal and constant reminder of the cruel reality you were living. The baby, your dear baby, was fading away, snatched from you before even having the chance to experience life. Every second felt like an eternity as your child's life slowly slipped away, leaving you with an indescribable sense of loss and despair.

You clung to the edge of the bed, trying to stay conscious as darkness threatened to engulf you completely. How did you end up here? Was this divine punishment for attempting to keep Alastor all to yourself, for desiring what wasn’t yours? Answers eluded your mind, clouded by pain and desperation.

You couldn’t think clearly. The world around you had been reduced to a single color: red. You saw it in your trembling hands, in your torn dress, in the pool spreading to your feet like an unrelenting tide. Each heartbeat resonated with the echo of your life slipping away, and amidst the growing darkness, red became increasingly oppressive, devouring everything in its path.

The air grew thicker, harder to breathe, and your vision blurred with tears of helplessness. You tried to scream, to call for help, but the words choked in your throat, smothered by the unbearable pain that seized you. Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, the notion that all this was some sort of divine punishment continued to beat, like a venomous snake coiling around you, squeezing until you could only surrender to the darkness.

Your trembling, weak hands pressed urgently on the wound. You tried to stem the bleeding, your fingers slipping in the warm blood flowing uncontrollably. In your mind, a silent prayer repeated desperately: you begged for someone to come to your aid, for a savior to emerge from the shadows of darkness. Tears flowed endlessly, a cascade of hopelessness flooding your face and staining your cheeks. You murmured Alastor’s name over and over, each whisper laden with the hope that he would appear, that he would come to rescue you from this agony. Yet, deep down, where a glimmer of rationality still lingered, you knew it was an illusion. You knew salvation was beyond your grasp.

As the pain grew more acute and enveloping, your memories began to fragment, like a broken film unfolding in painful flashes. You recalled your life in heartbreaking fragments: your early years of innocence, the awakening of your dreams, and finally, the encounter with Alastor. His presence had been like a whirlwind in your life, his dark and enigmatic charisma wrapping your world in a complex and fascinating web. You remembered your wedding day, an event that should have been the epitome of happiness, now distorted by the tragedy that was looming. The day you had envisioned as the beginning of a future full of promises was now revealed as the prelude to a series of misfortunes that had led to this moment of desperation and pain.

You longed with an overwhelming desperation to turn back time, to undo the decisions that had brought you to this point of agony. If only you hadn’t resorted to those rue teas, if you had understood the true implications of your actions… You felt trapped by your stubbornness and fear, caught in a nightmare from which you could not awaken. Your obstinacy had sealed your fate and that of the life within you, dragging you into this irreversible tragedy.

As the pain intensified, your world began to crumble into a painful and oppressive twilight. The room faded into darkness, and the blood spreading across the floor seemed to swallow every ray of hope. Amidst this overwhelming despair, a sound began to echo through the gloom: footsteps. They were footsteps approaching with an unsettling urgency, as if time itself had rushed toward you. You tried to scream, but your strength was waning, and the sound of your voice faded into a nearly inaudible whisper.

Through the veil of shadows covering the room, you glimpsed a figure standing out against the faint light filtering from the hallway. It was a tall, elegant silhouette, a presence that seemed to defy the darkness itself. Your heart beat with a faint glimmer of hope as you strained to focus your vision.

It was Alastor.

A fleeting relief enveloped you upon seeing him, a breath of hope amidst the torment. Alastor had arrived, just when you needed him most. But when his eyes met yours, the relief turned into terror. In his gaze, there was an unyielding coldness and a distance you had never seen before. That expression held an icy void that cruelly contrasted with the desperation you felt. At that moment, you understood that, despite his arrival, the certainty of your salvation was fading into uncertainty.

"It seems fate has decided to be particularly cruel to us, my dear."

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌; @catticora @mo-0-o @alastorthirsty @its-a-dam-blue-brick @speedycoffeedelight @eris-norwega

[doliacuddles]

Y/N: I need to get back to bed before Lucifer notices I'm gone.

In the room.

Lucifer: Y/N? Where are you!?

[doliacuddles]

SHADOWS OF A MARRIAGE.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖣𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗒.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

❝In our gazes lie the secrets of a love that never had its chance, trapped in a silence that screams the tragedy of what could have been and never was.❞

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:

𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖽𝗎𝗅𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗍. 𝖨𝗍 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗌. 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌.

Alastor could never have foreseen that his life would lead him to this crossroads, a dark and mysterious fork in the path of his existence.

Since childhood, he had always known he was different. While other children immersed themselves in the sweet illusions of first love, with hands intertwined and shared laughter, Alastor remained distant. The social circles that provided warmth and comfort to his peers seemed foreign to him, a stage where he had no place. Deprived of those experiences that seemed so natural to others, his heart beat to a dissonant rhythm.

He didn't respond to the same impulses as his peers. While they enjoyed games and laughter, he found unsettling solace in solitude and isolation. He watched the world from the periphery, with an eternal smile that hid a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. That seemingly amiable smirk was an enigma to those around him, an impenetrable mask guarding his true intentions.

Alastor became a spectator of life, analyzing every move, every word, with almost cruel precision. While others lived their lives carefree, he delved into his own mind, building a refuge where he could be authentic, away from the judgment and misunderstanding of the outside world.

When he found you in the forest, sobbing amidst loneliness, a wave of genuine pity washed over him. It was a feeling he had only ever experienced seeing his mother suffer under the yoke of his father. With the memory of those fresh tears in his mind, he approached you with a radiant smile, the best he could offer in that emotionally charged moment.

He extended his hand with unexpected delicacy, helping you to your feet. That gesture, though simple, carried profound meaning. In that secluded corner of the world, far from the gaze of others, an unexpected and deep connection formed between the two of you. It was his first true contact with another soul, a moment laden with intense and genuine emotion that neither of you would ever forget.

From that moment on, you became inseparable, as if your souls were intertwined in an unbreakable bond. Even though you didn't attend the same school, you always found a way to meet after classes in a nearby park, where your conversations stretched until the stars shone in the night sky. Your laughter, whispers, and confessions filled the air, creating a refuge where time seemed to stand still.

But that bubble of happiness burst abruptly the day he had to move away. It felt like a vital part of his being had been ripped away, leaving him desolate and alone. The only person offering him comfort, besides his beloved mother, had been torn from his life. It wasn't your fault, but his father's, who had imposed the decision to leave their previous home, forcing you to stay in that small town.

A sense of loss and abandonment gripped his chest, mingling with bitter frustration. It was as if destiny, once again, was being decided by others, leaving a trail of pain and resignation in his heart.

His detestable father.

To say that Alastor simply hated him would be a gross understatement. What he felt was a visceral loathing, a fury that burned like an unquenchable fire, devouring every corner of his being. This aversion led him to make a drastic decision: to end his life on a dark night, when the stench of alcohol clouded his father's senses. He couldn't allow him to continue tormenting the innocent, especially his mother, who constantly suffered the atrocities of that man.

But far from feeling relief, that act became a turning point in his life. His father's death left Alastor and his mother in poverty. Without financial resources, they were forced to face a brutal and ruthless reality. His mother, who never managed to overcome the loss of her husband, became a shadow of herself, her health deteriorating day by day. Illnesses besieged her mercilessly, worsening their situation even more. Survival became a constant struggle, marked by desperation and uncertainty.

Over the years, circumstances gradually began to improve for Alastor. Each new job not only provided invaluable experience but also allowed him to hone his skills and open doors to more promising opportunities. It was amidst this upward trajectory that he discovered his true passion: radio. Alastor saw in radio not only the financial benefits it could offer but also the immense power of influence he could wield through the airwaves.

Determined to become a prominent figure, he dedicated endless hours to study. It wasn't just about acquiring technical knowledge; for him, it was essential to perfect his charisma and dialect, aware of the importance of communicating effectively and being understood by the masses. Every word he learned, every technique he mastered, was a firm step forward in his relentless pursuit of excellence and recognition. Every broadcast, every program, brought him closer to the pinnacle of New Orleans, the city he now considered home. In each transmission, he strove to capture the attention of his audience, making every phrase resonate with irresistible magnetism. Alastor was not just on the path to success; he was determined to conquer the world of radio, and nothing and no one would stand in his way.

But one day, those thoughts of greatness underwent a drastic transformation. Since your arrival in New Orleans, a question had nagged at Alastor like a constant thorn: Why did you have to reappear? It wasn't malice he felt, but an unsettling sense that your presence was an anomaly in his carefully orchestrated life, an anomaly that shouldn't exist, especially after what he had done, the dark thoughts of satisfaction he had experienced in that fateful moment with his father and other victims.

Maintaining your closeness had become a titanic task. That deep and sincere childhood connection seemed to have evaporated, leaving an uncomfortable chasm between you. Despite this, Alastor strove to be kind and cordial with you, as if every gesture and smile were the result of years of meticulous rehearsal in front of the mirror. Every word was carefully chosen, every movement planned with surgical precision, all in a desperate attempt to revive something that felt irretrievably lost. However, the results were not as expected; his efforts only deepened his confusion and frustration.

He never imagined the day would come when he would have to marry, let alone someone he barely knew and already considered a stranger after so many years of disconnection. But seeing the happiness in his mother's eyes, hearing how fervently she expressed her desire to see him married before her departure… How could he deny her that final wish, the woman who had raised him with so much love and sacrifice? Despite all the doubts and reluctance in his heart, he reluctantly accepted, driven by the desire to fulfill his mother's last wish before her inevitable farewell.

The wedding was a spectacle of luxury, with a crowd of unfamiliar guests who couldn't take their eyes off Alastor. Every move of his captivated, his imposing figure dominated the scene, his eloquence hypnotized, and his magnetic presence was impossible to ignore. And you, lost in the crowd, were no exception. At the altar, in front of everyone, you looked like a true work of art, dazzling and radiant, exuding a beauty that left everyone breathless.

"Alastor, do you take this woman as your wife, to love and cherish her until death do you part?"

"I do," he replied with unwavering certainty, his voice resonating with an authority that seemed to mark destiny itself.

"And you…"

"I do," you murmured, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Your response, almost inaudible, elicited a mix of affectionate laughter among those present and a sweet tenderness in your parents' eyes, who watched you with pride and joy. However, those words, spoken in a moment of overflowing emotion, sealed your fate in a way you never could have imagined.

.

With an unusual tenderness, Alastor brushed aside the strands of your flushed and slightly sweaty face, his fingers caressing your skin with a gentleness that contrasted with his usual hardness. "Does this hurt you?" he asked in a whisper, his enveloping voice filled with genuine concern.

Instead of responding with words, you leaned into him and kissed him, an unexpected gesture loaded with emotion and meaning. That kiss was a spark, an impulse that surprised him and encouraged him to continue, dispelling any doubt or reservation he might have had.

For Alastor, watching you in that moment was like witnessing a masterpiece come to life before his eyes. Your naked skin beneath him, marked by the traces he had left with his lips and fingers, was a canvas now imbued with the imprints of his overwhelming passion. At first, he had resisted the urge to reach that point, but something in you disarmed all his reservations and pushed him to surrender with a passion he had only experienced once before, in very different circumstances. He felt a frenzied intensity consuming him completely; every caress, every sigh between you resonated like notes in a symphony of shared desires.

Every movement became a dance of fervor and longing, his emotions so intense they bordered on madness. He kissed you with desperate urgency, as if each lip contact were an anchor meant to ensure you never drifted away.

As he held you beneath him, his mind was a chaos of intertwined pleasure and guilt. Aware that he shouldn't be there, he knew his newfound desire to have you by his side was distorting his judgment. But every moan that escaped your lips, every whisper of your voice saying his name, dissipated any rational thought.

When they finally reached ecstasy together, he collapsed onto you, their ragged breaths melding into a single shared breath. He embraced you with a desperate intensity, as if fearing you might vanish at any moment.

"I'm so happy to have you as my wife," he said uncontrollably, the words spilling from his lips unchecked. The pure happiness in your gaze as you returned it made his stomach twist as if a thousand butterflies were fluttering inside him.

"And I'm happy to be your wife, Alastor," you replied softly.

.

Alastor's memories were woven with every breath of yours, intertwining with the present in the hospital room where they nervously awaited the results of many shared nights. Despite his constant pursuit, Alastor couldn't find any clear emotion at that moment. Had he made a mistake in embarking on this? Did he truly desire to be a father? He hoped that any future paternal instinct wouldn't reflect the cold treatment he had received from his own father.

As Alastor stared intensely at the floor, as if it were the most fascinating thing he had seen in years, he felt your touch on his arm, a signal that the doctor had the results.

The doctor called them from the waiting room door, inviting them into his office. Together, they walked down the hospital hallway, with dim lights and a scent blending disinfectant with old wood and medical books. The distant murmur of other patients and the soft tick-tock of a wall clock filled the air.

Entering the doctor's cozy office, filled with books and a sturdy wooden desk, the doctor greeted them with a warm smile. "Please, have a seat," he said courteously, closing the door behind them.

"Well," the doctor began seriously, adjusting his glasses as he flipped through the papers. "The results confirm that you're pregnant." His words resonated in the room, laden with surprise and contained joy.

You felt a mix of emotions: overwhelming happiness intertwined with palpable fear. It was a moment of bliss, yet also uncertainty about what the future would bring.

Alastor stared at you silently, without words. His eyes reflected astonishment and a tenderness rarely seen. In his mind, memories of his childhood mingled with the possibilities and challenges this new chapter would bring.

The doctor continued explaining the next steps, offering advice on prenatal care and answering questions. Alastor barely listened, absorbed in the new life growing inside you and how everything would change.

After the consultation, they left in silence. Outside, the city lights began to glow, casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets. Alastor gently took your hand, expressing his support and commitment to the new path they would face together.

As they walked back home, the cool evening air wrapped around them softly, creating an intimate atmosphere. Alastor let out a soft laugh that echoed in the quiet neighborhood. Without warning, he released your hand and wrapped his arm around you, drawing you close.

His eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and tenderness as he looked at you. "Ready to dive into endless readings about motherhood?" he asked with a mischievous smile, as if about to reveal an exciting secret. His words hung in the air, filled with anticipation for the days ahead and the new adventure they shared together.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you absorbed the overwhelming news that Alastor had impregnated you. The impact of his words and the reality you now faced left you breathless. Alastor, seeing your distress, let out a light laugh and embraced you, though his gesture was more of a clumsy attempt at comfort than a display of genuine empathy in that vulnerable moment.

"Don't worry so much, my dear," he murmured softly, tinged with his usual irony. "You know a smile always suits you best. You're like an incomplete painting without it."

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌; @catticora @mo-0-o @alastorthirsty @its-a-dam-blue-brick @speedycoffeedelight @eris-norwega

[doliacuddles]

SHADOWS OF A MARRIAGE.

𝖶𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖶𝖾𝖻𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖣𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

❝In our gazes lie the secrets of a love that never had its chance, trapped in a silence that screams the tragedy of what could have been and never was.❞

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:

𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗇𝖻𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌. 𝖠𝖽𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌. 𝖨𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽.

The following days blurred into a whirlwind of intense emotions. Each time Alastor returned from work, moans echoed through all the rooms, their echoes reverberating on the walls like a macabre reminder of your growing dependence. Their encounters were a frantic dance of uncontrolled desire, mixed with a palpable desperation that kept you on the brink of madness. The scorching passion he displayed made you feel even more trapped in his intricate web, like a fly in the spiderweb of a cunning predator. But paradoxically, that same passion ignited a fierce determination in you: you had to keep his attention at all costs, no matter the price.

As night fell, when Alastor finally succumbed to the embrace of sleep, you would get up stealthily, carefully moving to avoid waking him. The kitchen had become your secret sanctuary, a refuge where you could prepare your Rue tea without his watchful eyes discovering you. The bitter and penetrating aroma of the infusion filled the house, a testimony to your desperate attempt to avoid a pregnancy that would change everything, a constant reminder of the fragility of your situation and the fears that kept you on edge.

You knew your decision was selfish, but the fear of losing Alastor's attention was stronger, burning like a voracious flame in your chest. Each sip of the tea was a sharp reminder of your intentions, a silent and desperate act of rebellion against the relentless fate he was trying to impose on you. With each gulp, you felt a mixture of guilt and determination, a dark dance between submission and resistance, all while his dominant shadow loomed over your existence, stalking your secrets.

Every day, Alastor noticed with increasing intensity the unsettling changes. Confusion gripped him with each failed attempt to conceive, a burden that became more overwhelming over time. He spent long hours distracted at work, his mind trapped in a whirlwind of dark thoughts and silent prayers. The certainty that his sins had condemned him took root in his soul, plunging him into growing despair and anguish that consumed him from deep within.

"What is preventing us from creating life?" he whispered through clenched teeth, his vibrant voice laden with soul-cutting pain. Every time you approached, his tired eyes scrutinized you, seeking answers in your every gesture. Though his yearning burned intensely, a hint of impotence tinged every shared moment, every touch of his hands on your skin.

One night, Alastor felt you get out of bed, fully waking him just minutes after your departure. Confused, he decided to follow you silently, with steps as stealthy as a predator stalking its prey. He observed as you made your way to the kitchen under the dim light that revealed your figure bent over the kettle, the steam from the boiling water rising in ghostly spirals. His eyes narrowed, trying to decipher your intentions as the scene unfolded before him.

Noticing the Rue plant on the table, his lips tightened in a mixture of incredulity and barely contained fury. He knew very well what that meant; his mother had warned him several times about Rue's effects: its abortifacient and contraceptive properties. He approached cautiously, his steps barely audible in the stillness of the night. Finally, he stopped right behind you, his imposing presence filling the space. His voice emerged low but loaded with a barely disguised threat.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, his icy tone resonating with palpable tension.

Fear flooded you abruptly, like a cold wave that completely paralyzed you. Your hands trembled uncontrollably, and the glass you were desperately clutching slipped inevitably from your fingers, crashing loudly to the floor. You turned abruptly, and there he was, Alastor, with his dark, penetrating eyes reflecting a storm of unleashed emotions: confusion, anger, and a deep sense of betrayal.

"Why?" His voice cracked slightly, revealing the vulnerability he had tried to hide behind his mask of dominance. "Why are you doing this?"

Words crowded in your throat, a tangle of truths with no escape. The raw reality, like a sharp blade, cut through the space between you, and in that instant, you felt the crushing weight of your own actions. Alastor advanced towards you with a mix of contained fury and palpable sadness, his gaze piercing you as if trying to unravel each of your darkest secrets.

With a swift movement, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, his eyes shining with an intensity that seemed to set the air between you on fire. "Did you think you could deceive me?" he whispered, his voice dripping with venom. "Did you believe this would remain hidden forever?"

Under his firm grip, a chill ran down your spine as fear and guilt intertwined within you. The words barely escaped your trembling lips: "Alastor… I… I didn't want to lose you."

His laughter echoed in the room, a cold, humorless echo. "Lose me?" he asked sarcastically, pushing you roughly against the table. His face approached yours with calculated cruelty. "You are pathetic," he murmured with a voice that seemed to whisper danger. "A useless and pathetic creature, whose only purpose is to satisfy me. I am willing to do whatever it takes to ensure you understand and never attempt such follies again."

In the kitchen, the silence became almost palpable, interrupted only by the echo of your agitated breathing. Alastor released you abruptly, his gaze an intense mix of fury and pain that chilled you to the bone. Before stepping away, he left one last warning in a cutting voice.

"This is not over. The repercussions of your actions have yet to unfold."

With a determined gesture, he moved towards the Rue plants and threw them furiously into the trash bin. He glanced at you sideways over his shoulder, a silent but relentless invitation to follow him back to the room.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌; @catticora @mo-0-o @alastorthirsty @its-a-dam-blue-brick @speedycoffeedelight @eris-norwega

[doliacuddles]

Alastor: I'd like to do naughty things to you.

Y/N: Oh really? What kind of naughty things do you have in mind?

Alastor: Snap your neck.

[doliacuddles]

SHADOWS OF A MARRIAGE.

𝖠𝗇 𝖴𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖳𝗎𝗋𝗇.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

❝In our gazes lie the secrets of a love that never had its chance, trapped in a silence that screams the tragedy of what could have been and never was.❞

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:

𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾.

After your parents' visit, Alastor began to behave strangely. He started coming home earlier and spending more time by your side, avoiding retreating to his study as he usually did. His behavior puzzled you, as you had grown accustomed to his distant presence. However, there was an unease in his eyes, a spark of something new and indecipherable that filled you with a mix of hope and fear.

One day, while you were in the kitchen immersed in your daily chores, you suddenly felt the unexpected touch of Alastor's hands on your shoulders. At first, the contact was delicate, almost timid, as if he hesitated to proceed. But quickly, his touch became more firm and provocative, his fingers sliding slowly towards your waist with a disturbing determination. Your pulse began to race, and before you could react, Alastor turned you towards him with a decisive movement. His hand closed around your neck, not with violence, but with a firmness that demanded your full attention. He forced you to lift your gaze and meet his eyes, which shone with an unknown and electrifying intensity.

"Alastor…" you began to say, but the words faded on your lips as he leaned in and kissed you. It was a deep, burning kiss, charged with an overwhelming passion you had never sensed in him before. The initial surprise transformed into a wave of desire that coursed through your entire being, awakening sensations in you that you thought had been forgotten forever.

The kiss intensified, turning into a whirlwind of uncontrollable passion and burning desire. Alastor guided you with determination from room to room, making every corner of the house a silent witness to your unconditional surrender. Sighs and moans filled the air, composing a symphony of raw emotions and electrifying sensations. Every touch, every kiss, every caress became a silent promise, a desperate attempt to forge a deeper and more transcendent connection.

In the living room, Alastor lifted you in his arms, a perpetual kiss on your lips. He laid your body on the couch, his hands exploring your bare skin with an anxiety that rekindled a spark that had long lain dormant. The kitchen, the hallway, every corner of the house became silent witnesses to your union, impregnated by the intensity of your encounter and the whispers of pleasure.

As the passion reached its peak in the bedroom, a shadow of doubt and anguish took hold of you. Alastor's movements, infused with desire, also revealed a cold and calculated determination that you found impossible to ignore. You realized that behind his fiery surrender, there was something more, something that transcended the simple desire for connection.

As Alastor moved over you, a tide of conflicting emotions began to overwhelm you. At first, you had only felt the intense passion he aroused within you, but as his rhythm remained constant, a feeling of sadness and confusion intertwined with the desire. An urgency of uncried tears grew in your chest, while a lump formed in your throat. Your eyes, filled with repressed emotions, met his, which reflected an intense determination, slightly marked by an intense gaze.

Alastor, always perceptive, caught your look and for a moment, his rhythm faltered. His cold eyes, filled with dark desire, bored into yours. "Do you like it?" he asked, his voice breathless, his tone mixing genuine curiosity with an unyielding need for control.

Shame enveloped you like a cloak you were not accustomed to, your tears finally finding their way down your cheeks. Your breathing quickened, each inhalation seemed insufficient, while your mind became a chaos of questions. Why now? What had changed in him to provoke this reaction? The question echoed incessantly, seeking answers in vain.

Alastor, noticing your confusion and the tears that flowed, approached you. With deliberate slowness, he extended his tongue and captured one of your tears, his touch provoking a whirlwind of contradictory sensations within you. Thousands of butterflies seemed to dance in your stomach, delight and anguish intertwining and confusing you even more.

His gestures, intimate and disconcerting at the same time, wove an even denser web of emotions that overwhelmed you. You felt his lips travel across your face, erasing every trace of tears, and a part of you longed to surrender to the intensity of the moment, to the burning passion he awakened within you. However, another part of you couldn't help but question if all this was simply another game for him, another strategy within his complex web of power and control.

"You will be an exceptional mother," he murmured again, this time whispering the words against your skin, his voice resonating in your ear and sending shivers through your entire being. Each word acted like an anchor, grounding you to the reality of his desire. It was not just an act of passion; there was a defined intention behind his actions, a determination you could not ignore.

The internal conflict tore at you like tumultuous waves crashing against the rocks of your soul. A part of you desperately craved the connection, while the other fought against the fear and uncertainty that enveloped you. You closed your eyes, seeking a brief respite to assimilate it all, trying to find a fragile balance between your conflicting feelings.

When the intensity of the moment finally began to wane, you realized that the question tormenting you had no simple answer. Alastor, with all his complexity, had altered the rules of your marriage, and now you found yourself navigating a new, unknown terrain, trying to decipher his true intentions while protecting your own heart.

Exhausted, you lay back with his arm still around you, your breaths intertwined in the silence of the night. Despite the confusion and pain, a spark of hope persisted. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance to untangle the web of emotions and discover the truth behind his abrupt change in behavior.

With that amalgam of emotions, you let yourself be carried away by sleep, embracing both the uncertainty and the possibility of a future filled with unanswered questions but also new opportunities to explore.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌; @catticora @mo-0-o @alastorthirsty @its-a-dam-blue-brick @speedycoffeedelight @eris-norwega

[doliacuddles]

SHADOWS OF A MARRIAGE.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖵𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

❝In our gazes lie the secrets of a love that never had its chance, trapped in a silence that screams the tragedy of what could have been and never was.❞

The clock struck six in the evening when Alastor's familiar footsteps echoed down the hallway, sending a shiver down your spine. You hastily finished setting the dinner table. Today, your parents were visiting, and although Alastor's presence always made you nervous, you knew he would maintain appearances in front of them as the charming gentleman everyone believed him to be.

The door opened with a soft creak, revealing Alastor entering with his characteristic elegance. His brown eyes met yours, though the smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes.

"Dear, is everything ready for dinner?" he asked, his melodic voice carrying a subtle authority.

"Yes, almost everything is ready," you replied, feeling the tension grip your shoulders. You knew every detail had to be perfect.

"Good," murmured Alastor, approaching you with determined steps. His hand rested on your waist with a firm but controlled pressure, forcing you to look up at him. "Remember to behave, I don't want to disappoint your parents," he added in a low tone, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that made you swallow hard.

You nodded carefully, trying to hide the nerves coursing through you. You knew any slip-up could provoke his displeasure, and that was something you couldn't afford.

A few minutes later, the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house resonated like a silent announcement of your parents' arrival. Alastor released his grip on you with a speed that surprised you, instantly transforming into the charming and attentive man your parents knew. With a warm smile lighting up his face, he opened the door with a courteous bow.

"Welcome, sirs!" he exclaimed with a soft and cordial tone, extending a hand to help your mother out of the car. "It is a true pleasure to have you here tonight."

Your parents responded with radiant smiles and gestures of gratitude for the warm reception. They entered the house, admiring its beauty and warmth, while Alastor maintained a friendly and sociable demeanor, as if he were the perfect host.

During dinner, words flowed gracefully and easily among the diners. Alastor made an effort to capture your parents' attention, weaving fascinating stories about his work and achievements, ensuring they felt comfortable and entertained. Occasionally, his eyes met yours, his gaze soft and welcoming before your parents, but you knew that behind that mask of cordiality lay something darker and more enigmatic.

The atmosphere, though seemingly light and jovial, was permeated with a subtle tension hidden beneath the surface of kind words and forced laughter. Every comment from your parents became a risky balancing act, fearing that any misstep could reveal the true nature of your marriage.

When dinner ended, your parents retired to the living room, taking the conversation with Alastor with them. You took advantage of that brief respite to clear the table and wash the dishes, seeking a few minutes of peace away from his oppressive presence. However, the silence didn't last long before you felt his closeness behind you.

"Come to the living room, dear," his voice resonated with an authority that brooked no argument. "Our guests wish to enjoy your company as well."

You took a deep breath to calm your racing heart and nodded, drying your nervous hands before following Alastor back to the living room. Upon arrival, you were surprised to feel his arm firmly around you and the softness of his lips on yours, a gesture that left you breathless with its unexpected intimacy.

A gentle applause from your parents filled the space, delighted by the display of affection. "It's wonderful to see you so happy," your mother commented with a satisfied smile.

Alastor kept his arm around your shoulders, caressing you tenderly as he responded with his usual elegance, "We strive to keep the flame of love alive, don't we, dear?"

You forced a smile, feeling his hand on your shoulder weigh like a constant reminder of his control over you. "Yes, of course," you managed to say, while your heart still raced in your chest.

The atmosphere changed subtly after your parents expressed their desire to see the family grow. The talk became lighter and more relaxed, but a shadow of tension lingered in the background.

Then, your father, with a knowing smile, mentioned something that made your shoulders tense involuntarily.

"So, Alastor," he began, his voice carrying a note of expectation, "have you considered expanding the family? We would love to have grandchildren soon."

The silence that followed was palpable, filling the space with an almost imperceptible uncertainty. Alastor, with his characteristic ability to handle delicate situations, responded without losing his composure.

"Well, it's a topic we've discussed," he said calmly, his measured tone revealing calculated caution. "But we believe it's important to take our time to ensure everything is in place before taking that step."

Your mother nodded, but couldn't hide the bright curiosity in her eyes. "Of course, of course. But you can't wait too long, right? It would be wonderful to have little ones running around here."

Alastor maintained his smile, but you noticed a subtle tension in his jaw as he responded diplomatically, though his words revealed an inner reluctance.

"Of course," he said, squeezing your shoulder slightly as a gesture of support. "We want the best for our future, and when the right time comes, we will be delighted to share that joy with you."

Your parents seemed to accept his response, but the tension in the air persisted, like a small knot in the stomach that refused to untangle. The conversation drifted to more trivial topics, but deep down you knew the subject of children would arise again in the future, raising deeper and more emotional questions about the future of your relationship with Alastor.

When the night finally faded and your parents said their goodbyes, the atmosphere in the house changed dramatically. The warmth and kindness that had filled the air were replaced by the cold reality of your relationship.

"It was a magnificent performance, don't you think?" murmured Alastor, his voice now cold and calculating. "I hope you enjoyed seeing them again. I certainly did."

With deliberate steps, Alastor retreated to his study, leaving you alone in the growing darkness of the living room. You knew the facade had to be maintained, at least for now, until you found a way to escape his control. But at that moment, your only option was to keep going, even though each step was a test of emotional endurance, just to avoid disappointing everyone involved.

.

The night fell like a dark mantle over the house, enveloping it in a tense and almost palpable calm. Alastor and you retired to your respective beds, as usual, each lost in your own thoughts. The room was bathed in a twilight barely broken by the silvery light of the moon filtering through the partially open curtains. The silence, dense and oppressive, filled the space, charged with unspoken emotions and latent tensions.

You were on the verge of sleep when Alastor's voice resonated in the stillness, breaking the delicate balance of the night.

"Do you think my mother would have wanted me to have children?" he asked, his tone unusually soft and reflective, as if exploring unknown territories within himself.

The question left you stunned, a lump forming in your throat as you struggled to find an appropriate answer. You feared opening the door to a conversation that could reveal more than you were willing to face. You opted for silence, pretending to be asleep in an attempt to hide your own emotions. You controlled your breathing, trying to make it appear calm and even, although inside, your heart was pounding, reflecting the uncertainty filling your mind.

However, you could feel Alastor's gaze piercing your back, intense and penetrating, as if trying to unravel every thought crossing your mind. The weight of his gaze was overwhelming, a weight that oppressed you and made you feel vulnerable in the darkness of the room. Every second that passed under his scrutiny seemed an eternity, as if time had stopped only to increase the tension between the two of you.

Finally, you sensed a change in the atmosphere when Alastor moved in his bed, his attention apparently diverted to some invisible point in the distance. The silence returned forcefully, enveloping the room in a tense stillness. Though his words no longer filled the space, the question he had left hanging in the air resonated in your mind like a persistent echo.

You knew that question was not just a passing curiosity; it was an open window to something deeper and possibly darker within Alastor. The mere fact that he mentioned his mother, a figure he rarely spoke of, added a layer of complexity and mystery to the situation.

You longed for mental peace, but doubts and fears continued their incessant dance in your mind. What did that question really imply? Was it a sign of some change in Alastor? Or was it just another ruse to keep you on edge, never allowing you to truly know his thoughts?

Finally, exhaustion overcame your worries. Slowly, you let yourself be carried away by sleep, though the uncertainty remained latent in the depths of your being.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌; @seraphiccharlie @catticora @verosikavibes @mo-0-o @alastorthirsty @its-a-dam-blue-brick @speedycoffeedelight

[doliacuddles]

Alastor: You don't get it, Husk. I need to find out more about Y/N first: her interests, where she comes from, where she lives, her blood type, and her work schedule. Husk: Do you like her or are you planning to kill her? Alastor: Yes.

[doliacuddles]

SHADOWS OF A MARRIAGE.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖳𝗋𝗎𝖾 𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

❝In our gazes lie the secrets of a love that never had its chance, trapped in a silence that screams the tragedy of what could have been and never was.❞

It was rare for Alastor to leave his home, and even rarer for him to leave you alone. But this time, his boss had insisted he attend a special event in another state. Alastor accepted with his usual charisma, though his true intentions remained hidden behind a flawless facade.

The train moved slowly through the dark night, carrying Alastor away from his home. As he watched the landscape blur past the window, his mind operated with relentless precision, calculating every detail of his next moves. The mask of respectability he presented to the world concealed an abominable secret: Alastor was a murderer, a cannibal, a monster of the worst kind.

This "business trip" was the perfect excuse, an ideal opportunity to satisfy his darkest impulses without arousing suspicion. A small town where no one knew him, a place where he could unleash his depravity without being discovered.

Upon reaching his destination, Alastor checked into a modest hotel, one of those places where no questions were asked. The room was austere, with a narrow bed and a lamp casting a dim, yellowish light. The perfect setting for what he had in mind.

That night, Alastor prowled the shadowy streets of the city, watching the passersby with predator eyes. His elegant appearance and charming smile allowed him to blend in effortlessly, going unnoticed as he carefully selected his first victim.

He chose a young man who worked at a local store. He followed him home, ensuring no one noticed. With chilling precision, he waited for the right moment and struck. His movements were quick and precise, the result of years of meticulous practice. The young man barely had time to make a sound before it was all over.

The pleasure Alastor felt in taking a life was a dark, indescribable delight, a secret he could never share with anyone. It was his abominable joy, his macabre satisfaction that contrasted with the public image he projected. This duality allowed him to continue, knowing he would never be discovered.

Over the next few days, Alastor continued with his "business trip," attending events and meeting everyone's expectations. But each night, when darkness fell, his true nature emerged, relentless and voracious.

Each murder was meticulously planned and executed, leaving few clues that could lead the police to him. His victims were carefully chosen: lonely and vulnerable souls who wouldn't be missed immediately. The city was plunged into a wave of terror and confusion, while Alastor reveled in his macabre work.

After a week, his work in the city was done. Alastor returned home, satisfied and rejuvenated by the experience. The mask of respectability returned to its place, and the charismatic radio host reappeared, leaving no trace of the monster that had been on the loose.

When he arrived home, he found you waiting for him, as always. He embraced you with the same coldness as always, hiding the truth behind his dark eyes and charming smile. To the world, Alastor was a successful and respected man. But inside, the shadow of the killer always lurked, waiting for the next opportunity to escape.

"Did you miss me?" Alastor asked, placing his luggage carefully on the living room couch. His voice resonated with a dangerous sweetness.

You noticed how his movements were more cautious than usual, but decided to ignore it for now. "It was fine being alone…" you replied softly, trying to stay calm.

"Silly girl, you should say you missed me," Alastor said, turning to you with a wide, almost mocking smile, enjoying your discomfort.

You smiled back, though with a latent unease. "How was your trip? I hope the events weren't too exhausting," you commented as you took his smaller suitcase and headed to the bedroom to put away his clothes in the closet.

"It went well, without a doubt, it was a wonderful trip," Alastor replied, his voice laced with twisted delight. He watched your back as you walked away, a sinister smile curving his lips as he recalled the horrors he had unleashed.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

𝖳𝖺𝗀𝗌; @seraphiccharlie @catticora @verosikavibes @mo-0-o @alastorthirsty @its-a-dam-blue-brick @speedycoffeedelight

[doliacuddles]

Exorcist! Y/N: Why do I always get the big guys? Alastor: Because you have a big mouth. Exorcist! Y/N: Leave the humor to me, sinner.