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venusdandy · 4 months ago

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God's Rival [Part 2]

[Hazbin Hotel x GN!Reader] [Platonic]

Story Summary: The Demiurge is what they decided to call you. You aren't human, angel, or demon. You're something else entirely—an enigma in each realm. The only being who had ever shown you kindness was the fallen angel Lucifer since he freed you from Heaven's prison by offering Eve the apple from your tree. You promised him a fruitful favor in exchange, but he has not asked anything from you. Until now, that is.

Chapter Summary: In the back garden area of the Hazbin Hotel, you're summoned to Hell by Lucifer's and Charlie's combined magic. You finally meet the human souls—your spiritual children, who you sensed were saying your name last evening. You're delighted to be able to aid your dear friend Lucifer in protecting his family and home from Heaven.

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns). No use of (y/n). The reader is genderless and AroAce—platonic relationships with the characters only.

A/N: I wanted to let everyone know this story is now on AO3 (VenusDandy)! I also have a tag list here if you'd like to be added.

Part 1 Part 2 (here)

Your eyes are closed as you relax in your hammock and feel the sunlight warm your soul. You're humming a song you heard from your last visit to Earth that's been unable to leave your head. The birds in the trees above you had begun to sing along.

A sudden strong gust of wind nearly knocks you off, but you're quick to grasp the sides of the hammock to help balance. You quietly laugh to yourself as you peek an eye open. One of your creations, a pteranodon, landed a few feet away from you at the lake's edge to eat some fish.

For this reason, you keep the lake closest to your palace filled with life. The amount of happiness you receive when you see your creations eating gives your soul well-needed peace. You love seeing your children happy!

Speaking of your children, you feel that familiar vibration in your soul telling you a human has mentioned your name. A side effect after Eve ate the apple from your tree was that it forever connected your soul to humankind—your spiritual children.

Four deceased humans that have become demons, a fallen angel, and the Princess and King of Hell themselves are discussing you. You feel honored that they are considering asking for your help. You mainly use your energy and time to maintain the mortal realm's chaos and observe alive human souls. You pay less attention once they pass into the afterlife since it is not your domain.

Another chuckle escapes your lips. You have been wondering when Lucifer would cash in the favor you owe him. You were beginning to believe he had forgotten. Although you would prefer to continue staying out of Hell's and Heaven's pissing contest, if Lucifer requests for you to aid him, you have no objections to that. You respect the eldest Morningstar greatly after all he has done for you and humanity.

A content sigh leaves your lips as you go back to humming. You'll indeed be summoned to Hell by Lucifer soon, so you'll use your remaining time in the mortal realm to relax.

One last time, Lucifer scrambles around the immense sigil engraved in the dirt of the Hazbin Hotel's abandoned garden. He's pretty sure he's drawn your sigil correctly; he's only ever seen it once when you emerged from the apple tree in Eden, so it's entirely from memory.

"Okay," Lucifer semi-confidently says, "Okay, I think I got it."

Alastor has a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he hums, "Hmm, try walking around it ten more times to make sure."

Lucifer huffs with a glare. "Why are you even here? There's no reason for you to be here right now!"

"Who am I not to greet our guest who will aid us in war?" Alastor says with a twirl of his cane, "As the manager of this Hotel, that is my duty!"

Vaggie quickly stands in front of everyone with her hands on her hips. "Alright, let's go over this again!"

Vaggie points to Angel, "No flirting with the Demiurge!"-then to Husk-"No sarcastic remarks that can piss them off!"-then to Niffty, "No knives or sharp things that would threaten them!"-Then to Alastor "And no making deals with the Demiurge! Got it?"

Varying agreements ring out, some more irritated than others, but it satisfies Vaggie nonetheless.

Charlie is excited and slightly nervous as she stands next to her father. Lucifer had said he'd need her assistance for the summoning ritual since it requires powerful Celestial magic. Not just anyone can summon the Demiurge.

Lucifer lets out a breath of anxiety and rubs his bare hands together. "Ready, Charlie? Do you remember what we rehearsed?" He asks with a nervous smile.

Charlie nods firmly. "Ready!"

Lucifer and Charlie then shift into their more demonic forms to channel more of their magic before twirling their arms in graceful mannerisms. Lucifer begins chanting in the ancient Celestial language, which causes the sigil in the dirt to glow golden.

Vaggie anxiously clutches herself as her gaze never leaves Charlie's form. She knows her lover is powerful and capable of protecting herself, but Vaggie can't help but worry about her. A gentle, clawed hand rests on her shoulder, causing her to shift her gaze to her left, seeing Alastor grinning down at her. He doesn't say a word, but his eyes share a confident reassurance that strangely makes her feel a bit better.

The ground beneath them all began to rumble as if an Earthquake was happening. Niffty laughs as she uncontrollably falls to the ground, but Angel quickly swoops in and holds her tightly.

Once Lucifer and Charlie finish the ritual, they take a few careful steps back to join the others.

The sigil's golden glow brightens, then dims to nothing just as quickly. The ground beneath them stills once again. Everyone doesn't move as they wait for what will happen next. . .

Before Lucifer could question if he performed the ritual incorrectly, a large blaze of golden flames twists above the sigil, causing a few surprised gasps. Within the fire, a silhouette could be seen taking form.

Strong gusts of wind swirling around nearly blow the habitants of the Hazbin Hotel off their feet. They're quick to grasp onto each other for stability, other than Alastor, who uses his tendrils of shadow to ground himself.

Once the wind finally puts the fire out, it gradually falls into a light breeze. At the center of the sigil is a deity that stands at 120 meters. A golden-scaled serpent with the head of a mighty golden-brown lion. Their eyes glow brightly and shine into Hell's eerie red sky, and their sharp teeth are a perfect white—the Demiurge's true form.

You stare down at the beings who summoned you. Your eyes land on Lucifer, who stares up at you with a nervous smile. He looks more tired than how you remember him. He slowly waves, and you roar to greet him a bit too loudly since some of the beings below clutch their ears.

You then close your eyes as you shift into your humanoid form so you can speak eye-to-eye with everyone—the sounds of bones breaking and reshaping echo around everyone grossly.

Once you take your desired form, you eagerly reopen your eyes with a giant smile. You're very excited! "Lucifer Morningstar, how have you been, my dear friend?"

Although Lucifer was surprised you called him a friend, it eased his anxiety about you being here. He clears his throat awkwardly before greeting you properly with your name. "I've been uh- I've certainly been better, but I'm still kicking. Heh."

"Happiness is not a destination; it is a neverending journey." You remark with a hum, "I hope after we deal with Heaven's aggression toward Hell that it will ease your worries and bring happiness to you all."

The fact you already know why you've been summoned surprises everyone. You were in another realm far away from them, weren't you? How could you possibly know why Lucifer summoned you? Now Lucifer's anxiety peaks again. You're far too knowledgeable, and it makes him feel you're at least 100 steps ahead of him. It could be good or bad, depending on the context of your aspirations.

You shift your attention to the Princess and send her a kind smile. "Princess Charlie, it is a pleasure to meet you finally! I've heard wonderful things about you along the grapevine, child." You reach a hand out to greet her, noticing the younger fallen angel beside her tense up.

Charlie nervously smiles back as she shakes your hand. "Oh? It's lovely to meet you as well! I've heard things- good things about you from my dad."

Your eyes crinkle in amusement. You then glance amongst the four human souls staring at you intensely; you can sense their bubbling emotions. "I thought I heard my title being said last evening."

The look of regret is visible as Angel pales. The way you phrased it doesn't sound very good, as if you knew every word discussed about you last night—or rather ever. And Angel said some crude remarks about you! Husk is a bit nervous, too, since he straight-up said you have mommy issues. Your mommy issues got you locked away for millions of years because you lashed out at Heaven! And Husk does not want to be on the receiving end of your chaos! Niffty wouldn't mind your chaos, though.

"So, that means you're aware I'd like to ask that favor of you finally?" Lucifer asks uncertainly, "I'll admit I was hesitant to call upon you since I don't know how you feel about Heaven these days."

You hum in acknowledgment. "A fair judgment, although I have no qualms about protecting Hell from Heaven. You all fought in self-defense against the exorcists." You smile at each soul, "I shall do everything in my power to aid you all, although I must warn you, Heaven will not be pleased that the Demiurge will be fighting against them once again."

With her golden heart, Charlie grabs your hands with a much calmer smile. "We won't force you to do anything you aren't comfortable with! We all will understand if fighting against Heaven isn't safe for you."

Your old heart beats with bittersweet happiness at Charlie's words. You've heard about her kind-hearted personality, but witnessing it firsthand puts it in perspective. You see so much of her father in her.

You squeeze her hands reassuringly. "I appreciate your kindness greatly, child."-you gently release her hands-"I'm afraid that once it is known that I am aiding Hell, Heaven will send their most powerful Celestial beings, ones that only Lucifer and I have fought against."

Alastor quietly hums at that. He's a lot bit egotistical, but even he must admit that sounds rather dramatic. Your eyes then meet his, making his ears twitch back slightly. You're difficult to read. Much like him, your smile hasn't faltered, though yours is more genuine than his stitched grin.

"Alastor the Radio Demon," your amused voice rings out, "Did you want to say something, my child?"

Slight unease is bubbling inside Alastor, causing his claws to tap the top of his microphone cane. He doesn't like feeling this way. Masking his nerves, he tilts his head and keeps his smile strong. "The Demiurge has heard of me? Why, I'm quite honored my broadcasts have reached your ears!"

Your eyes squint with a lighthearted gleam. "I remember your radio broadcasts from when you were alive, too, my child."

The unexpected words cause Alastor's eyes to blow wide. Alive? How much does the Demiurge know about him, exactly? He doesn't like being this much in the unknown or having this much lack of control. . .

Your attention shifts to the other three human souls. "And here we have Anthony or Angel Dust, as you prefer. Then, the former Gambling Demon Husk. And Niffty, the demon who slaughtered the first man, Adam." You smile warmly, "It is a pleasure to meet you all, my children."

Niffty giggles at the memory, not bothered by you or your information on her or her friends. "I did do that!"

On the other hand, Angel is frowning because he has a clue that you don't know him because of his career here in Hell. That you know his darkest secrets and hidden emotions from when he was alive. Now he's starting to get why Lucifer was hesitant to summon you. . .

Husk's brows are furrowed. Clearly, from just witnessing your natural form that could rival Godzilla, you're not the average soul. You already know them all, even hinting that you know of their lives as humans. Was this basic knowledge the Demiurge already had, or did you do research beforehand? Husk isn't sure, but he plans to monitor you closely.

Charlie nervously clasps her hands in front of her. She's a bit unnerved you already know everyone, but then again, for a deity like you, that knowledge is probably easily accessible.

Vaggie, not about to let your creepy knowledge of them slide, asks with a threatening undertone, "How exactly do you already know why Lucifer and Charlie summoned you? And care to explain why you know a little too much about everyone?"

Lucifer snaps his worried eyes to Maggie Vaggie. He had the same questions, but he wasn't about to go and ask them! What if you get irritated?! What if you leave?!

You smile warmly at the young fallen angel, hoping to calm her protective soul, "You must be Vaggie; it is a pleasure to meet you, child."

Her eyes squint with suspicion, and if Charlie weren't holding onto her waist so tightly, she'd have waltzed on over to you. You dodged her question!

Lucifer loudly claps his hands, bringing everyone's attention back to him. With a nervous chuckle, he says, "I know how much being summoned to another realm can zap your energy, so how about we take a moment to rest inside and get better acquainted? What'd you say?"

You nod in agreement. "I would greatly appreciate that, friend."

You look back to Vaggie, "Then I will answer your questions, child." That brings some relief to Vaggie. At least you're willing to give answers. . .

With the others following close behind, Lucifer leads you into the Hazbin Hotel, asking if you are hungry or thirsty and listing too many options. He doesn't know how posh you are and is trying his best to please you. He's so afraid of you lashing out.

You understand why Lucifer is nervous about your presence; you would also be if you were in his position. Lucifer was one of the many angels from Heaven sent to investigate your existence. He witnessed your absolute most destructive moment when you lashed out at Heaven with all you had. You don't look back on the memory of your younger self fondly, but you do not regret your choices. You witnessed Heaven slaughter your children, and you couldn't save them back then.

You want Lucifer to know he is your friend, and you will never hurt him or his family. He never hurt you or your children; you remember him protecting them.

With a whisper of a touch on his shoulder, Lucifer interrupts himself and instead looks to you. You don't say a word, but the empathetic glow in your eyes calms every worry Lucifer has about you.

Lucifer can see in your eyes that you are genuinely here to help them, to help him and his family.

With a more comfortable smile resting on his lips, Lucifer tells you, "I'll make us all pancakes!"

If Heaven plans to slaughter your children here in Hell, well, you'll just have to slaughter the angels first.

Tag List: @paastaboi @gasoline-eater @rabioa @m00nd0v3

#hazbin hotel #venus hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x platonic reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #niffty x reader #platonic hazbin hotel

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aseriesofunfortunatejan · 3 months ago

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When I opened my mailbox, I was hoping to find a letter from my Schule (derogatory)... but found a cool surprise instead!

My order from @bloggingboutburgers arrived! If that says anything about me, I was really excited for the fun double-faced bookmark. Still, holding a hard-cover book made by someone I have loosely known since hanging around the same group of online friends from anime RP forums in the 2010s... is quite a unique experience!

That's right, I was there for the burgers too. No I haven't watched Negima!.

You're right, I am wearing the appropriately-coloured "Glamethyst" by Holo Taco. And I did have to cut my nails for the summer, you don't have to mention it, it's a sensitive topic. /lh

I think my mom is going to love this bookmark. The purple side is honestly very her, while the green side is very me - regardless of how either of us identify.

"No one can know (I don't like sex)" by Akhts/@bloggingboutburgers is a collection of her comics about her experience being aromantic and asexual! Being an aroace woman as well, flipping through its pages is a fun experience consisting of a few very relatable chuckles and, as Akhts has some experiences and feelings that differ from my own, sitting back to have an interesting think about how being aroace can impact people's lives differently.

If I've read those comics before, sitting down to read them back to back encouraged me to carefully consider what Akhts means when she talks about experiences such as her queerplatonic relationship, how I understand it and what aspects of it are relatable to my own life. As a resident over-explainer, looking at a collection of short comics was an interesting exercise in introspection and consideration of how these feelings are put across to new readers! Ultimately, it was an inspiring read that makes me want to talk about my own experience even more, in the hope of filling colourful perhaps-metaphorical shelves of different aroace life experiences.

Are you a "thank God platonic fanfiction writers exist" or "I fucked a God in character.ai!" asexual? Whether you're one of those two options or another shade entirely, here's to a world of people like you sharing their stories in print.

PS: Lovely doodle - de rien ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

#review #i guess lol #bloggingboutburgers #aroace #asexuality #asexual #aromantic #lgbtq

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months ago

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pspspspspsps here kitty kitty kitty (Joking,... now you laugh) ....

Italian, Fem!Reader, that had traveled briefly to the village, to sell some books, movies, and whatnot -- just to grant the vilagers some sense of like.. the outside world? If that makes sense?

Reader, having already timed their escape, decides to go to that peculiar house up on the hill, across the bridge, before their departure, -- maybe the residents, who, Reader thought, was an old couple, or a very wealthy woman, .. maybe even one of those trust-fund families.. yes! Reader BET that the inhabitant of a place so grand would spend a pretty penny on some foreign knowledge.. maybe, Reader could even upsell. Yes! That would be enough to pay off Readers risky carriage fees.. (nervous laughter)

Reader, ignoring all darkness, all red flags and blatant signs of danger, because, well, Reader is very oblivious, and very optimistic, -- and, well, they barely know English, so, .. how would Reader know what the villagers say about the owner of said.. Oh-so large mansion? Pfft. As if.

'Oh.. its getting dark. Jeez, the trees sure do make this place gloomy!' 'Uhhhh.. why do i have a blaring sense of discomfort, nausea, unease, and a will of fright that makes my stomach churn with instinct to yeet myself the opposite direction? Oh, man, i knew i shouldnt have eaten that un-refrigerated fruit!'

Angie, if i remember that dollies name correctly, answers .. takes one look at Reader, in all of their 'Italian-beauty-standard-fitting', 'italian-book-carrying', 'Donna-language-speaking' glory (Donna language speaking because.. Italian. That was also a joke. Plz laugh), and immidiately, with that screechy voice calls Donna over

Donna fucking FAAAWNNNSSS over everything Reader has, buys their entire stock, then, out of pure gushy-ness, of how nostalgic, and amazing, and flavourful (meaning, how much stuff that Donna was desperately searching for, Reader has in stock) Readers 'for-sales' are, that she, spur-in-the-moment, ushurs Reader inside, makes them tea and whatnot,

well.. so much for Readers plan of escape. Poor bus-maid Reader hired, they thought, as they sat awkwardly beside the lady in black, veiled thickly, who was talking in Italian, since, well, Reader has little to no knowledge of english. Atleast shes also Italian. Thats nice. Wait.. why does Reader feel their cheeks heating up? Gosh, darn it, Reader has read (aha) far too many romance books.

Make it so that, since Reader, who, now, cant escape the Village, since their little plans of flight had been SPOILEDD!! (reference. Chuckles) they stay with Donna, then, after awhile, after teaching Donna everything they know about Italy, and get really comftorable with her, and sees her without her veil on accident, and cooks traditionally, does fucking .. house chores, because, well, they're an unpaying guest in a strangers home, they both start catchin' feelsies and all that sweet stuff. I'll leave the deciding of when and how to you! How generous of me!

(No smut, please. Aroace look'enne for sum intimate, not-so-intimate love. Aha. Joke again. Just a little giggle, please 😨)

Hope ya have an amazing day!! Yes, i know im too descriptive, im just awesome like that. Much apreesh, Anon. 💗

(p.s, thank u blusy 🫂🫂🫂 virtual hugs from italy. ciao bbg.. or.. bbb.. i dont .. i dunno)

Yesss!!!! Well, that was quite long request, but it was funny to write!!! Thank you for sending it and for your funny words!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language(s) mistakes!!!!

Foreign Business

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Italian! Reader

Warnings: fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,585

Summary: Should you leave that gloomy village?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!!

“17:30, do you hear me?” the young woman driving the small bus said.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, picking up your stuff.

“I don't think it will… How do you say… take long,” you murmured with an innocent smile, taking out your suitcase as best you could, letting it fall into the snow.

“Hey, stranger,” the girl said, with a gloomy look. “You have to pay me now.”

“Cosa? No, I'll pay you when I get back,” you said with a frown, crossing your arms.

“I'm leaving,” the girl whispered, starting the vehicle again.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey! No, no, no…” you said comically running towards the small bus. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Look stranger, it's clear that you have no idea of what’s going on in this place, right?” the driver asked, with a raised eyebrow. You shook your head and smiled innocently.

“Hey, I was invited,” you protested confused, giving up and taking out your wallet.

“Who has invited you?” she wanted to know.

“I have a relative in this country who is also a businessman,” you explained, putting on your coat because of the cold. “He says he is known as… The Duke.”

The girl looked at you curiously, but finally shook her head.

“No idea…” she murmured. “Besides, that doesn’t matter to me. My job is to bring you here and take you back to Bucharest. If for… Well, for whatever reason you don’t come back, I’ll be left without my money, do you understand?”

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” you asked nervously, looking down the hill, where the old village stood in a frozen mist. “I'm just going to sell my stuff and…”

“You bore me,” the driver sighed, with a mocking laugh that made you burn with rage. “Just pay me now, spaghetti.”

“Mm, politeness is not your best virtue, is it?” you murmured, wishing to say other things, other not-so-elegant words.

After all, that stupid girl was your only transportation in that place in the middle of nowhere… You should control your desire to insult her with all your might.

“I'd rather be rude than stupid,” the young woman laughed, extending her hand for you to give her the money you were holding, squeezing it tightly.

“Ugh, here, your money,” you grumbled, getting a satisfied look from the driver, who turned off the engine, reclining her seat and picking up a magazine.

“A pleasure doing business with you, spaghetti...” she sighed with a sinister laugh.

You, without her seeing you, made fun of her, angrily picking up your suitcase and walking towards the path where you had met with the Duke.

“Stupida...” you hissed, shaking your head, observing the landscape around you.

The trip had been exhausting. Dodging the mountains, those snowy landscapes had taken you too much time, but, that seemingly remote place had a special charm that made it worth it.

You were always a saleswoman, descendant of a family of merchants that expanded throughout old Europe decades ago. Sell, buy, repeat… That was your way of life. Trading in the villages of your country, Italy, was something simple for you, perhaps too simple.

The lack of interest of people in the modern world for something as simple as books, films, or any element of culture, had caused your business to falter, and you had no more than four clients in your area.

You always believed in tradition, in following the family legacy, even when circumstances were not in your favour. You could say that you were also a bit stubborn. Your family branched out to all possible places, places like France, Germany, Spain…

They all seemed to be haunted by the same curse, the same lack of interest in a good book, in knowledge itself.

But there was one place, a place where the tentacles of your family had arrived to stay for a long time, a place where the past lived, where present and future seemed not to exist at all.

A distant relative, the Duke, was for you the luckiest member of the family. Not even your parents knew how long that man had been in that village, in Romania. There were even rumors that he never came, that he never left, he had always existed.

Nonsense and legends in your opinion.

What you did know was that in that place, there were some business opportunities.

You had heard many things about the Duke, about the place where he worked. Apart from old superstitions and legends of witches and vampires, things you didn't believe in, you had heard that the people of the place lived completely oblivious to the outside world.

A unique opportunity. How much would a person pay to know what the world around them was like?

You didn't really care much about the reasons, those strange rumors. You didn't even wonder why that village seemed to be frozen in time. The only thing you thought about when you got on that plane was business.

“Qui...” you sighed when you reached that meeting point the Duke marked.

Without having anything else to do but wait, you sorted your merchandise while you studied the snowy forest that surrounded you, trying to decipher the old wooden signs that indicated illegible directions.

“Re-Reser-Reservoir...” you stammered, removing the snow from one of those signs, looking around. “Un bacino idrico?” you asked, scratching your head. “Mm, interessante...”

Yes, maybe if you finished soon you could do some sightseeing and, above all, you could see the enormous castle that seemed to guard the village.

The minutes passed, you couldn't tell if quickly or slowly. Nothing, there was no sign of the Duke. You might not have known what he looked like, but… In reality, you hadn't seen anyone pass by that path.

The cold began to mix with impatience, making you shiver.

“Ah!” you shrieked when, out of nowhere, a flock of black crows appeared, passing over you, close, too close.

Those black birds seemed like an evil omen, but you were too eager to know that place to realize it. Simply, with a proud cough, you stood up from your crouched position, shaking the snow off your dress.

“Uccelli…” you growled furiously, watching how that flock of crows moved away with sinister sounds.

Checking that your merchandise was still intact, you closed your suitcase, crossing your arms, slowly losing patience.

As you sighed for the umpteenth time, you realized that maybe you were in the wrong place. Asking wouldn't do any good, and besides, there was no one you could ask.

“Mm?” you muttered when you noticed something different among your stuff, a sealed envelope that you could swear wasn't there before.

Looking around confused, thinking no way those crows left that envelope, you slowly picked it up, opening it with a frown. As you began to read, you looked nervously at that forest again. It was a letter for you, in the middle of nowhere.

Dear (Y/N)

I'm afraid something unexpected has come up. It prevents me from attending to you, even though I was certainly looking forward for us to meet. I suppose that, since you are my family, to trade in the village on your own won't be a problem for you.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

PS: A word of advice, listen to what the villagers tell you, I wouldn't want the wolves to devour you, or anything worse. Please take care of yourself.

Duke

There was no doubt about it, that letter had arrived there by magic. The idea of messenger crows seemed less and less crazy. But the reality was overwhelming: you were alone in that unknown place.

You had two options: You could take your suitcase, walk back in your tracks and go to the bus, writing yet another failure in your diary, a very expensive one. On the other hand, you could ignore those chills, that feeling of being where you shouldn't be and do what you had come to do.

I wouldn't want the wolves to devour you, or anything worse…

That warning seemed like an irony, a little joke that was surely common to all outsiders like you. Well, it's not like it was a place where there could be wolves but… That wasn't the disturbing thing. What could be worse than being savagely devoured by those beasts?

Curiosity or cowardice, that was your dilemma.

With a thoughtful sigh, you looked at those two possible paths, imagining that, under each of them, there was a line of text that told you which page to go to, like those adventure books that offered several possibilities, some of them fatal ones.

You always fantasized too much thanks to those books. Maybe if you had been as rational as the protagonists of those great adventures, you would have considered your possibilities better.

Shrugging, not wanting to have wasted your money on a fruitless trip, you didn’t listen to the Duke's letter. After all, your job was to talk to people, you didn't need his help, or so you thought.

The castle was increasingly imposing as you approached. It was fascinating, a place from a novel, full of possibilities. Surely when you returned home and read one of those books, you would imagine that gloomy and mysterious landscape.

The glances traveled to your eyes passively. These villagers were definitely strange, they seemed to either fear you, or wish you away, you weren't sure.

Unfortunately, your eagerness to offer knowledge to these poor souls was unsuccessful.

Muttering things you didn't quite understand, in an English that was practically incomprehensible to you, which, on the other hand, was bad luck, since you didn't fully master the language either, each one of the doors of those old cabins closed in your face.

“Hey, I haven't even said my name!” you protested after the tenth disinterested grunt from one of the inhabitants of that place. “Cazzo…”

The door opened again and a young woman with an apologetic look appeared.

“Forgive my father. He doesn't trust outsiders,” the young woman said. Well, at least she spoke to you. “My name is Elena.”

“Sono (Y/N),” you said politely, shaking your hand with the young woman's, who frowned upon hearing you speak that way.

“It's clear that you're not a villager,” the girl joked, closing the door.

“No, I'm Italian,” you said, with a business smile that you had already rehearsed.

The young Elena nodded curiously, glancing at your suitcase.

“Are you a merchant?” she asked, pointing at your merchandise.

You nodded slowly.

“Yes, I've come on behalf of a relative... His name is, or he calls himself... Duke,” you explained with a trembling voice. Your nerves couldn't fail you. At least you had managed to talk to someone.

“The Duke?” the girl asked, with a surprised look. “Wow, I didn't know he had a family.”

“Yes, but he seems to be the only one who is successful,” you murmured jokingly, pronouncing the words in the best way possible. “Well... Elena, right? Are you interested in something?”

“No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid we have everything we need,” she said, shaking her head with a kind smile. “My father says that books are a waste of time.”

“Sciocchezze,” you sighed with a mischievous smile, showing her a vinyl record. “What about music? It's the sound of the soul.”

“No, no, I... I'm afraid we don't need anything like that,” Elena shook her head again.

“Oh, great,” you said, letting your smile fade at the thought that you couldn't even get enough money to recoup the investment of the trip.

“Don't be offended, just…” the young woman said, gesturing with her hands to emphasize her apology. “… We just work to live, that's, that's all we do, anything else would be entertainment.”

“Oh,” you said curiously, arching your eyebrows.

“But, um…” the girl said, looking around. “Maybe, maybe I know someone who might be interested.”

“Do you?” you asked.

Elena nodded, briefly pointing to a large house that stood out from the orchards.

“Luiza has always been a very cultured woman, and she is very kind. Maybe she would want to listen to you,” the young woman explained, in a kind tone. You blinked, looking at the indicated place, and smiled. “She lives up there, in the orchards.”

“Elena!” A loud voice was heard inside the cabin and the girl shuddered.

“I'm coming, father!” Elena shrieked, with another apologetic look. “Sorry, (Y/N), but…”

“Oh, of course, there is no… Pro-problem,” you said nervous about the impatience of that unpleasant man. “Luiza… Okay. Ciao!”

At least that girl helped you not to lose hope.

Elena wasn't lying, that Luiza seemed a bit different from the rest of the villagers, kinder, smarter, with an understandable English... It seems that you interested her enough to invite you into her house.

“Wait there, I'll make tea,” she said kindly, indicating that you sit at a table where a man seemed to be sharpening a knife with a distrustful look. After a few tense seconds, the man left his task, looking at you with distrust.

“So you're a merchant...” he whispered, tilting his head and crossing his arms.

“Yes,” you answered, with that well-rehearsed smile.

“And an outsider...” he whispered, with a sinister smile. “Luiza says you are related to the Duke...”

“That's right,” you said, without losing your merchant composure.

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Wow, I didn't know the fat man had a family,” the man said, with the same surprise in his voice as the young woman before. “Where are you from?”

“Italy,” you said proudly, ignoring those dark eyes, which hardened when they heard you answer.

“Italy, you say?” he asked, leaning a little towards you, narrowing his eyes. “You say you're related to the Duke?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, confused by that change in attitude.

“Mm, are you sure you're related to the merchant?” he asked suspiciously, making you nervous. “Hey, maybe by any chance you know...”

“Ahem,” Luiza interrupted, serving you the cup of tea. “Marcus.”

“What? I'm just asking, the girl says she's Italian,” the man, her husband, apparently, protested. “You and I know who…”

“Marcus,” Luiza said, with a firmer tone. The man shook his head, sighing in defeat. “Don't scare the poor girl.”

“Bah, if she's not scared yet, she must be brave, or stupid,” Marcus commented, laughing amused. You made an effort to smile at that little joke, smelling the delicious aroma of tea.

“Okay, (Y/N), unlike my husband, I’m interested in those foreign items… Do you have any opera records?”

“Oh, sure, sure,” you said, as if coming out of a confused thought, opening your suitcase and putting on a display of everything you had.

Well, you did manage to sell a few things. You would always be grateful to that woman, the only kind woman in that place, apart from the young girl, of course. But even with that partial success, you didn't have enough to feel like you had succeeded.

If that woman had bought you something, nobody was telling you that there couldn't be more Luizas in that place. You just had to find them.

You were ready to leave that house, when a small book caught your attention. It looked like a book full of old photographs of the village. You approached it with curiosity while Luiza kindly opened the door for you.

“Um, sorry, but... Can I take a look?” you asked, pointing at the book. The woman looked at her husband and he shrugged, making a vague gesture of farewell.

“Of course...” the woman sighed, faking a smile. You returned it gratefully, starting to turn the pages of that album. “This village is an old one.”

“I see,” you commented nodding, turning pages and pages full of snowy landscapes. “My family had told me about this place, but... Well, not much. What is this?” you asked, pointing to a kind of square guarded by four large statues.

“Those are the… The four founders of the village,” Luiza explained. “The Dimitrescu family, owner of the castle; the Moreau family, owner of the lake lands; the Heisenberg family who owned a metal factory on the outskirts of the village, and the… The Beneviento family, the doll makers.”

“Oh,” you sighed interested, not even hearing the names very well, you were more attentive to those old photographs. “Does anyone live in the castle? I'd like to visit it.”

“Um, no, I…” the woman stammered, making you frown. “I don't think you should go near it, (Y/N).”

“Isn't it open to the public? What a pity,” you said with a disappointed voice.

Luiza made a strange gesture, shaking her head.

“Young lady, take some advice from me,” the woman said, speaking in a very low tone, approaching you with a hand on your shoulder. “You must leave this place.”

“Why?” you asked, confused, looking away at another of the photographs, one with a beautiful mansion, guarded by a waterfall.

It quickly caught your attention, even making you ignore the kind woman's warning words.

“Because…” Luiza sighed, with a broken tone, as if she were afraid of something. “It's not the best place for an outsider.”

“Oh, yeah, well,” you said, amused, gesturing with your hand. “I have people skills. That's not a problem. Tell me, is this house in the village?”

“Oh, that house…” Luiza murmured, looking at the same photograph.

“It's impressive,” you said curious. “Does anyone live there?” you insisted, running your hand over the drawing of what looked like a symbol, one with a moon and a sun.

“It's, it's far from here,” the woman commented, closing the album and subtly pushing you towards the exit. “Listen to me, don't go near that place. It's very dangerous.”

You shook your head with wide eyes, pulling your suitcase.

“Everything here seems very dangerous,” you commented with a low voice and a frown. The woman put on a sad look, caressing your cheek in a strange way.

“Go away, (Y/N), go away before the shadows invade you,” Luiza whispered, turning her back on you and closing the door softly, leaving you petrified on the floor.

“Cosa diavolo non va?” you asked yourself with a strange grimace, slowly moving away from the house.

Ignoring these strange warnings, you walked aimlessly through the village, looking for someone who wasn't afraid of your presence, or who wouldn't bow their head, ignoring your greeting.

Tired from your erratic walk, you decided to lean against a stone sculpture, in the middle of another snowy square. Failure loomed in your thoughts, in your mind, wondering if perhaps with the Duke present, things would have been different.

You looked at your watch and sighed, it was still early to leave, and even more so when you had barely sold four things. You had to make an effort, either that, or try another nearby village.

The crows flew above you like a bad omen that you couldn't interpret. The sky was dark, gloomy.

Don't let the shadows invade you...

Luiza's words echoed in your ears, words you didn't know how to interpret, or rather, that you didn't want to interpret. You were in a different country, in a different culture, lost in that snowy, sinister village. Even though you believed that nothing could go wrong, a bad feeling began to haunt you.

Yes, maybe it was time to leave.

You stood up with a defeated gasp, shaking your head, depressed by your ridiculous failure. But, you had barely taken two steps when something caught your attention.

In front of you was a wooden door, a kind of fence that separated a private property. Above the frame, there was a symbol, one that you remembered having seen before: that moon and that sun.

Your mind was left thinking. Yes, surely that would be the way to the waterfall house. It had to be. Luiza warned you to not get too close but… Curiosity was calling you.

Okay, it wasn't a huge castle but… Still, that mansion couldn't belong to just any villager. The curious relationship of wealth, bigger houses and kindness that you found in the village made you think that maybe someone rich lived there, a person or family with enough money to think about leisure or wisdom.

“Mm,” you murmured curiously, approaching that place, looking at that symbol closely. The door was open. You almost thought you heard whispers that encouraged you to enter that dark path.

You swallowed when a cold breeze came out of that darkness. Your body trembled for no reason, but your mind was blinded by greed. You couldn't miss that opportunity to know what or who was on the other side, who lived in that place.

The sunlight illuminated the path you had to follow with increasingly less intense rays. Slowly, you followed that luminous advice, entering through the wooden door, walking towards the unknown.

It didn't seem like a very strange place, or so you thought. The trees seemed sad, that place seemed devoured by time. Strange objects hung from the almost rotten branches, which you passed by without flinching.

You simply kept your mind busy, like a danger blocking mechanism that seemed to alert your subconscious. Instead of worrying, when you saw that those things hanging from the trees were dolls, you simply whistled, making your way through the branches with a slow walk.

You passed an old wooden bridge, one that said: go away in all possible languages. You were never good at interpreting those words, those screams from your mind that demanded your attention.

The sunlight diminished as you walked, it was getting dark. The branches of the trees drew disturbing shadows that surrounded a pair of ruined cabins.

“Brr,” you shivered when you saw those wooden claws stalking you.

The smile never left your face, but your body began to notice the symptoms of that inner fear; a dizziness, a feeling of heaviness in your stomach... All of these were physical signs that seemed to want to stop you in your tracks.

You even thought that the tea or the fruit you ate at Luiza's had upset your stomach. No, you didn't see the danger in any way, or rather, you didn't want to see it.

Finally you reached a clearing, where a mound showed a sinister grave you didn't want to approach. Your stupidity and your desire for wealth were so strong that you thought it was perhaps a simple decoration.

“Un ascensore...” you murmured when you reached a red door, surely the entrance to that curious mansion.

Biting your lip, you rubbed your hands entering those metal bars. Of course, whoever lived in that place had to have a lot of money, and, above all, a great desire to spend it. You fantasized about what you were going to find: a rich family? A widow, perhaps? A wealthy man? Maybe one of the founders of the village’s descendants? It didn't matter who it was, but you could smell money from miles away.

When you got out of the elevator, the sight in front of you forced you to stop. There was that house, that huge house with a beautiful waterfall next to it.

“If this doesn't work, I'm leaving the business,” you said, rehearsing in your head the phrases to say to the inhabitant of that place, greetings, smiles, all your charms.

The sound of the falling water relaxed you, although you didn't know why you were even nervous. The word danger whispered in your mind like a premonition or intuition, but you let the waterfall completely eclipse it. The beauty of that place couldn't entail any danger, you were convinced.

You cleared your throat as you approached the door, slowly climbing the steps. At the moment, there was nothing that matched Luiza's warnings, nothing, until, before you could knock on the door, it opened with an ominous creak.

“Um, hello?” you asked, seeing how, in front of you, there was nothing but a beautiful wooden room, with a rocking chair that moved by itself. “Ciao...” you repeated in a lower voice.

There didn't seem to be anyone in that place and you sighed, relaxing your shoulders and looking around.

“Oh!” you squealed in fear when you looked down, where, what looked like a ventriloquist's doll was standing looking at you. “Oh... Cazzo... What...” you said upset. “Good... Good trick...”

Smiling, thinking that, like the gravestones in the clearing, this was just a joke, you crouched down curiously, looking at that puppet.

“Hello?” you repeated, standing up again and ignoring the doll, which, perhaps because of the accumulated fatigue, you thought was following you with its gaze.

“Down here, stupid!” a high-pitched screech scared you again, making you fall backwards, tripping and crashing your body against the hard stone of the porch.

But neither the pain of the fall nor the fright were the worst. Yes, you were not dreaming, if it was a joke, it was the best one you had ever seen.

That doll, that damn doll moved, moved its articulated mouth, laughing out loud.

“Who are you?” the puppet asked, approaching your collapsed body. You backed away scared, crawling until you reached those small steps.

“Ahhh! Una bambola parlante!” you shrieked in fear, standing up as quickly as possible with your hands in front of your body.

“Who are you calling a talking doll, you silly, silly?” the puppet asked.

No, there was no doubt. There were no strings, no ventriloquist, it was alive.

“Ah, io, io… What?” you stammered nervously, shaking your head, blinking hard to make what was undoubtedly a hallucination go away. It didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, can you repeat that?” the doll said, approaching with a comical step. “What did you just say?”

“Cosa?” you asked, grabbing your suitcase, ready to run away. “Sorry, I… No, no… What?”

“You called me a talking doll,” it said, crossing its arms.

You nodded confused.

“I'm, I'm, I'm sorry... No, no...” you stammered, still shocked and scared by the impossibility of that old toy. It couldn't move, it just couldn't.

“Who are you?” it asked again. “Why do you know Italian?”

“I-I-I'm Italian,” you stammered, shaking your head.

The doll tilted its head curiously, looking you up and down.

“You're a long way from home, you silly Italian,” the doll commented in a mocking tone.

You blinked again, scratching the back of your neck, searching all over the doll for the mechanism that was supposed to make it behave like that. You didn't find it.

“I-I'm a merchant,” you said with a broken voice. The doll nodded, walking towards you quickly, climbing up your dress. It was too close, you couldn't move.

“Merchant?” it asked again, looking at you as if it was reading your soul. “What do you sell?”

“I sell… I sell… Books and… Vinyl and… Movies…” you explained when the doll finally got off your body, without taking those cold eyes off you.

“Books and movies?” the puppet asked.

You, nervous, still scared, nodded erratically.

“Do you have Italian stuff?”

“S-Sure I have,” you whispered in a small voice.

“Mm,” the doll murmured turning around, but looking at you several times before disappearing into the darkness of the mansion. “Donna, Donna! You have to see this, come, come!”

“Donna?” you asked yourself, gathering enough courage to walk back to the door, where, after a few seconds, the sound of heels approached.

In front of you was a woman, a woman dressed completely in black, with a veil covering her face. She had a stoic pose, she emanated danger, and even more so when you saw that she was holding the doll in her arms.

Even if she was the most experienced ventriloquist in the world, she could never have done that, it was simply impossible.

“She's pretty, huh, Donna?” the doll said, nudging the lady, who sighed tiredly. “An Italian beauty knocking on your door, not even in your dreams could you imagine something like that.”

“Angie…” A hoarse, dark voice came out of that black veil while the woman lowered the doll to the floor. It laughed amusedly, staring at you again.

“Um, well…” you murmured confused, with your gaze fixed on that black veil, on those invisible eyes that you knew were watching you. “H-Hello…”

There was no answer. The lady didn't even seem to be bothered by your words.

“Um… I'm… I'm (Y/N),” you said, putting fear aside and politely extending your hand towards her, who looked at it briefly, without returning your greeting. “No? Okay… Well…”

“I'm Angie!” the doll shrieked, grabbing your hand instead of its owner and shaking it roughly. “Nice to scare you!”

“H-Hello… Suppongo…” you whispered, still confused but, mysteriously, more relaxed.

“Forgive her, she doesn’t like to talk,” the doll explained, pointing at its owner in a mocking way. “Shall I tell you a secret? She's Italian too.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, looking at the lady, who nodded briefly. “Che strana coincidenza…”

“Perché strana?” that hoarse voice asked again, the voice of that mysterious lady.

“Oh, well…” you said embarrassed, of course, that doll hadn't lied to you. “No, it's nothing…”

“Che vuoi?” the lady in black asked again, her tone lighter, but reflected impatience.

“I'm, I'm a merchant,” you said again, trying to smile, making a superhuman effort to make that strange situation stop being so strange.

After all, she was the inhabitant of that place, and she was also Italian. The business seemed to call you…

“She sells a lot of things, Donna!” the doll shrieked, pointing at you. “Things you like!”

“Mm,” the woman in black murmured, looking over your shoulder at the merchandise. “Me li può mostrare?”

“Oh, sure, sure…” you said nervously, heading towards your suitcase and opening it on the floor, closely followed by that strange doll, which didn't seem to want to leave you alone.

“Look, Donna, your favorite record!” the doll squealed, rummaging through the merchandise without any kind of hesitation, under your watchful gaze, and hers.

The lady took that vinyl, observing it carefully. You almost thought you heard a slight laugh coming out of that veil.

“È, it's a special edition,” you murmured when you saw how interested she seemed to be. “You, you know… Come prima… Più di prima…” you sang in a timid and horrible way.

The veiled lady looked up with a sigh.

“Are you also a singer?” she asked with a weak, whispering voice.

You laughed nervously shaking your head, with your cheeks slightly blushed.

“No… The truth is, I’m not… Although, although they've always told me that I have a beautiful voice,” you said timidly, looking sideways as Angie rummaged through the books.

“Mm,” the lady murmured with disinterest, looking at the vinyl again.

“Donna, Donna! Nonna's favorite book!” the doll squealed, handing her one of your books in perfect condition. “Look, look, this one isn't broken!”

“I have that one on sale… If, if you're interested… Donna, right?” you said with your voice cracked by nerves, playing with your sweaty hands.

“Donna? Lady Beneviento for you, silly!” the doll snapped at you, in a haughty tone.

“Beneviento?” you asked involuntarily, knowing that you had heard that name somewhere.

Of course you heard it. Like a whisper of help, your mind recalled Luiza's words, those that explained to you the families who had founded the village. Of course, that Donna Beneviento was an important person in that place. Despite everything strange, your greed took precedence, she seemed truly interested in what you were selling.

The mysterious woman nodded slowly, leafing through that book with curiosity.

“I’m sorry, Lady Beneviento,” you said elegantly, lowering your head. You knew she was not an ordinary villager and therefore, you could not treat her as such.

“Vieni,” she whispered, gesturing for you to enter the house.

You nodded nervously, closing your suitcase and pulling it into the mansion, with an extra weight. That living doll had climbed on top of it, swinging its legs in a playful way.

“Hey, do you mind?” you said nervously. The doll, obviously, shook her head.

You groaned, still in disbelief, and when you looked again you saw something strange.

There was a portrait, a portrait hanging on the wall of the stairs. On it, there was a woman, a really beautiful, gorgeous woman with a pale face, serious eyes and black hair. Next to her, there was that puppet, the Angie doll. Would she be the lady?

Lady Beneviento cleared her throat, getting your attention, letting you know through her non-verbal language, that she didn't want you to look at that portrait. You decided to be good and obey.

“Sit down, I'll make some tea and we'll talk business,” the woman whispered, pointing to a cozy corner of that house.

“Sure... Yes, um... Thank you,” you said with a kind smile.

The woman in black looked at you for an almost awkward moment and then turned around, walking slowly towards a hallway. You followed her with your eyes until she disappeared.

It was a strange situation indeed. Perhaps you should have listened better to your survival instincts.

After what seemed like an eternity, the lady returned, serving you a cup of tea with an elegant gesture and sitting in front of you.

“Grazie…” you whispered with a grateful smile, blowing on the steaming liquid. “Truth be told, I didn't expect to find someone who spoke my language… I've never been good with English.”

“You seem to speak it quite well,” she commented, with a regal pose, barely moving, not letting anyone see for a moment what that black veil was hiding.

“I have no choice, I guess,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Do you trade all over Europe?” she asked curiously as you opened your suitcase again, your hands shaking.

You weren’t there to chat. You had gone to do business. You couldn’t forget that.

“No, I… Well, I used to trade only in Italy,” you explained with a sad smile.

“Where in Italy are you from?” she asked again as Angie, with the suitcase open again, rubbed her wooden hands, rummaging through your stuff with an evil laugh.

You looked back at the lady, a bit confused.

“Da che parte d’Italia vieni?” the lady repeated with a slightly darker voice. “Nord, sud…?”

“Oh, yes, Well… I was born in the city of… This may seem like a joke to you but… I’m from the city of Benevento,” you said with a shy smile.

You didn’t want her to think you were laughing at her. It was just a stupid coincidence.

“Mm, why would I think it's a joke?” she asked, with a tired sigh.

“Well, because of your… Your last name… It's quite similar, isn't it?” you said with a fake smile. “Are you from around there?”

“No,” the lady answered dryly, without bothering to shake her head. “I was born here.”

“Oh, okay…” you murmured, glancing at the doll, who was shuffling through your books. “Hey, um… be careful…” you said to the doll, who made a mocking gesture, imitating your voice in an unpleasant way. “Hey, la, la bambola…”

“Angie”

“Yes, Angie…” you repeated with a frown. “Why is she alive?”

“That's none of your business,” she said, with a cold voice, one that ran through your nerves, putting them on alert again.

“O-Okay, sorry,” you murmured, looking down.

“Do you have Italian movies?” she asked after a tense moment, one that you took advantage of to hide your embarrassment in the teacup. “Film.”

“Oh, yes, yes of course…” you said nervously, reaching for the suitcase, rummaging through your messy things due to the Angie doll, who protested with a grunt at your hand. “I have a lot of these.”

“Mm?” the lady murmured, looking at the cover confused, opening it and taking out the disc. “What is this?”

“A, a movie,” you said, clearing your throat. “A DVD.”

“DVD…” she whispered, looking at her reflection in that shiny disc, visibly confused. You couldn't believe she didn't know it. That village was definitely stopped in time. “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand you.”

“Um, well…” you said, scratching the back of your neck, wondering how you were going to explain that to this mysterious woman. She didn't seem to be joking, at all.

“Hey, it's like a mirror!” Angie squealed, climbing onto her owner's lap and comically looking at herself in the disc, turning it curiously. “I want one, Donna, I want one!”

“Ugh, va bene…” the lady whispered, putting the DVD back in its place and handing it to the doll, who jumped victoriously. “It's still not what I'm looking for.”

“What… What are you looking for?” you asked, flashing your fake saleswoman smile again.

“Don't you have any 28mm rolls?” the woman wanted to know.

You nodded confused.

“Yes… But, but they are, they are special, I mean, I mean… They are… They are molto costose, you know… They are, they are almost museum relics,” you said, taking a metal box out of the suitcase and opening it, displaying its contents.

“Fine, I want them,” she murmured, nodding and snatching the box from your hands. “Money is not a problem.”

Well, that phrase fostered a more sincere smile on your face.

“Va bene… It is…” you said nervously, taking out a notebook in which you wrote down your sales.

“I'm not finished,” she interrupted you, leaving the box on the floor. “I also want those books.”

“Those? Which ones?” you asked confused by her vague description.

“All of them,” the lady said abruptly, leaving you glued to the seat. “I've been asking the Duke for that classic novel collection for a long time.”

“The Duke? Oh, well, I'm related to him,” you said smiling, taking the books out of the suitcase and leaving them on the table.

“You?!” Angie asked in a shrill voice, getting too close to you again. “Come on! You don't look like that fat greasy guy!”

“Fat greasy guy?” you asked amused. “Well, I don't really know him, but it seems that in this village you do it quite well.”

“Oh, yes, he's a scammer!” Angie shrieked laughing amused. “Isn't he, Donna?”

“Mm…” the lady nodded, distracted by the books.

That scared you.

“Oh, I… I'm not like him. I'm always fair with prices and… Cazzo, don't think I'm trying to rip you off or anything like that… Cazzo.”

“Do you mind stopping talking like that? I don't like rude girls,” Donna snapped at you, with a dangerous, annoyed tone.

“I'm, I'm sorry, it's just that... Well, I'm not used to being understood,” you explained with a different blush, one that was accentuated when a shy laugh came out of her veil.

“It was just a joke,” she said amused, more relaxed, surely fascinated by that collection of books she was looking for so much. “Do you want some more tea?”

“Oh, yes, per favore,” you said, extending your cup towards the teapot, with a calm smile.

“I still don't know what a girl like you is doing in a place like this...” she whispered after a moment of calm silence, one that served to, little by little, get you used to that sinister atmosphere, and that doll.

“It's a long story...” you sighed, leaning back on the old sofa.

“I have time,” she said, with the same tone as you. “I'm sure you'll appreciate having a chat in your native language, right?”

“S-Sure…”

As if you had suddenly forgotten what you were doing there, or how much time you had left to leave, you began to chat calmly with that strange woman.

At first she seemed gloomy, reluctant to hold any kind of conversation but… As you explained everything that led you to the village, your concerns, your goals… Well, her attitude relaxed quite a bit.

The short, dry sentences turned into a soft voice, into shy laughs from time to time. It seemed that she had gained some confidence with you, or so that living doll hinted. After your hectic trip through Romania, a chat in your language effectively lifted your spirits, it was almost like feeling at home.

On the other hand, that erratic behavior of the lady in black never ceased to surprise you. Like the rest of the villagers, she seemed not to understand or comprehend very well the outside world, the time in which you lived.

To your surprise, she had never even set foot on Italy. Yes, her family came from there, but, incredibly, Donna had never been there. But that was not the only thing that was curious, so were the words that claimed she had never left the village.

It might seem that this woman, with money, with power, from an important family, had little or no interest in traveling, in leaving this sinister time capsule.

But that was not the case. Her words were full of sadness, her sighs, that nostalgia with which she listened attentively to your words... It seemed as if deep down she wanted to leave, as if, for some reason, her stay in the village was some kind of condemnation for her.

The mansion grew darker as time went by as you talked, sharing impressions, tastes, hobbies… It was almost as if you had just met a friend, a friend with an interesting voice, with a beautiful body, with a subtle but intoxicating lavender perfume…

Your cheeks betrayed those erratic thoughts about the lady in black and you shook your head several times.

You, a cultured girl, a fan of romance novels, always tended to idealize that kind of situations. You didn't want to believe in love at first sight, but you certainly didn't know what it felt like, if it was even possible.

No, no, no, no… You couldn't think about that, despite how attractive Lady Beneviento was to you. Everything had an end, and sooner than you would have liked, yours came.

Sighing, finishing your last cup of tea, you looked at the clock and almost choked.

“Oh, cazzo!” you said hurriedly, getting up from the sofa. “5 o'clock, if I don't hurry…”

“What's wrong?” the lady in black asked, getting up too, playing nervously with her hands.

“I'd love to stay and chat but… If I don't make it to that stupida’s bus, she will leave without me and…” you explained, gathering that was left in your suitcase. Donna had bought almost everything without thinking about it.

“Are you going to leave?” she asked in a whisper, with a voice that, at least to you, seemed sad.

You looked at her and nodded with a polite smile, extending your hand towards her, a hand that, this time, she shook briefly.

Damn, her hands were very soft…

“It's been nice meeting you, Donna,” you said kindly, turning around to walk towards the hall.

“Are you going to let her just leave? Silly Donna…” you heard the doll whisper in an indiscreet manner.

“W-Wait, wait a moment,” the nervous lady said, running to meet you, making her veil move, inducing your mischievous eyes to look at what was underneath. “D-Do you really have to go?”

“Yes,” you said with a confused look, totally innocent.

“W-Wait, I… I…” she murmured, approaching slowly. “It's dangerous to go out at night.”

“Hey, can someone explain to me what it is that scares you so much about this place? And why are there living dolls?” you asked with an impatient tone, remembering each of the villagers' warnings.

“I'll explain everything to you, but, but only if you stay with me a little longer, just a little longer,” the lady said, in a tone that sounded curiously desperate. “Per favore…”

“Please, please!” the doll repeated in a shrill tone.

“Um…” you stammered, unable to find an answer, a desire to stay that you knew existed. But that village had already given you so much trouble, you wanted to leave, but at the same time, you didn't.

Damn senseless crush… How can you even know if you really liked that woman?

“Okay,” you said, letting your words speak for themselves, sighing as you looked at your wristwatch, knowing that, even if you ran, you wouldn't make it to the bus on time. “Hai un telefono?”

The lady nodded, pointing to a small table.

You walked slowly past her, checking how, in a disturbing way, the doll and owner followed you with their gaze.

“Irina?” you asked when someone finally answered, after a few tense moments.

“Oh spaghetti, it's you!” the driver of the bus screamed. She seemed agitated, as if she was running away from something, or so you sensed, there was too much interference. “You have to… Help me! Wolves… Monsters…! Call the… Lice!”

“Cosa? I don't understand you, are you okay?” you asked with a frown, that stupid girl seemed to be in danger.

“No…! No…! Mother Miranda!”

After those screams, the call was interrupted, leaving you disoriented. Seeing you like that, Donna approached, taking the phone from your hand and hanging it slowly, as if somehow those screams hadn't surprised her.

“It seems that there are some connection problems,” Angie mocked, laughing, but stopping when the lady suddenly looked at her, as if she had said something she shouldn't. “Oops…”

“I think she wanted me to call the police… Who is Mother Miranda?” you asked confused, with your heart racing.

“She’s the leader of this village,” Donna murmured, with a somber voice. “But don't worry, she won't hurt you, I won't allow it.”

“Hurt? Um, hey, Donna, I think, I think Irina was in trouble,” you said nervously, focused on finding out what had happened.

“You'll be in trouble if you go out at night, silly! You have to stay here!” Angie yelled at you, pointing comically at the floor.

“Oh, no, no, I don't want to disturb you,” you said with a trembling voice.

Your intuition wasn't wrong at all, but... In that house, you didn't seem to be in danger.

“You're not disturbing me, I like your company,” Donna said, with her hands in front of her body, with an elegant posture, unfazed by what seemed to be the death of the bus girl. “Do you want...? Do you want to cook something for dinner?”

“Oh, um, yes, dinner... Um...” you said confused, nodding without really knowing why. “Va...Va bene...”

As if you had forgotten what had happened, as if that call hadn't taken place, you went down to that dark basement with the lady in black and started cooking. It was a fun, entertaining time.

You both shared your own recipes, your special ways of doing things. Your mind had forgotten about going home, it had forgotten where you wanted to go, why you wanted to leave. The only thing you knew was that you wanted to stay with that dark Italian Lady. You wanted to talk to her, laugh with her.

Yes, you started to believe in love at first sight, you had no doubt that it existed, you were experiencing it.

Day and night began to dance before your eyes, the sun and the moon. How long had you been there? You didn't know. Had it been days, weeks, months? You weren't sure.

Cooking, reading, watching those movies… Any excuse was good enough to forget about your problems, to forget you had a place to go back to.

Maybe darkness had invaded you but… You had become addicted to her, to Donna Beneviento, to that strange woman and her doll, to her voice, her words, her laughter… To the lavender of her perfume…

“Sale,” Donna said, extending her hand so you could give her the jar she needed while, like so many days, like so many times, you cooked with her.

A curious routine, cooking, cleaning, sewing… Something that your own conscience used as payment for being a guest who didn't pay for her stay but… Were you really a guest? What were you?

“I've never seen anyone making pasta,” you said curiously, leaning your elbow on the counter. Donna laughed amused, shaking her head. “Well, my grandmother usually…”

“You say I'm like your grandmother?” she joked, kneading calmly.

“No, not at all,” you said, amused, looking hypnotically at that curious dough. “I buy it ready-made, it's easier and faster that way.”

“Chi va piano…”

“Va lontano…” you finished, smiling again, with that damn blush on your cheeks. “It's true, you're right, Donna.”

She glanced at you briefly, giving you another of her beautiful laughs. You were so dazed that nothing mattered anymore, only waking up in that guest room again, only going downstairs to share moments with her, only her, only Donna mattered to you.

“Wait, let me help you,” you said, picking up one of the flour sacks and putting it on the counter with a loud thud, raising a thick cloud of white dust. “Cazzo! Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

The lady coughed, brushing the flour away with her hand, clearing her vision. It could be a comedian or a dangerous one, you didn't quite know. Her little apron was unable to stop all the flour, which landed on Lady Beneviento, including her veil.

“Tutto bene?” you asked timidly, brushing the dust out of your hair.

“Sì,” the woman in black murmured, accidentally removing her veil, shaking it in front of your wide-open eyes.

When she realized the mistake she had made, the mistake of showing you her face, she gasped nervously, shaking her head.

You stood petrified, admiring every inch of her beauty, a hidden one, one that you only sensed and you had just confirmed. No, a stupid scar couldn't be that important, it wasn't capable of hiding anything, of overcoming her beauty.

“Non… Non…” she whispered, turning around and covering her face with her hands. “Non guardami!”

“Donna, wait, wait…” you said nervously, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t, don't cover yourself, You are… Sei bellisima…”

“No, no, no…” she repeated, nervously, pushing away your comforting hand. “Sei una bugiarda!”

“I'm not lying, Donna, really, I…” you said, trying to reason with those incipient sobs, with the trembling of her body.

“Now you'll want to leave… You'll make me hurt you!” she shrieked, completely out of control. You shook your head, ignoring that dangerous last sentence.

“Shh,” you whispered softly, turning her around, taking advantage of a slight moment of weakness. “I won't leave, I like being here.”

“No… Non é vero…” she said, moving away from your gaze.

You snatched the veil from her so she couldn't put it back on and, without thinking, you launched yourself at her lips, kissing them fiercely, just as you had wanted to do for a long time, you didn't know how long.

“Donna…” you sighed when you pulled away from the kiss, a messy kiss that she had a hard time joining.

Finally she did, caressing your cheeks, mouth agape by that sudden reaction, one that she was apparently also waiting for.

“You have come into my life like a savior, like a light that has passed through the darkness…” she whispered, kissing you again, losing that fear, that cowardice, the fear of being discovered, of you seeing her wounded face.

What Lady Beneviento didn’t expect, is that you would feel something for her.

“Per favore…Non partire…Rimani con me…Per sempre…” she murmured while your lips caressed each other, while the warmth of that unexpected love slowly passed through your body, until it reached your heart.

“Per sempre…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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seariii · 4 months ago

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QUEER PLATONIC COUNTS TOO BTW

Senpai is an otokonoko EP ---

If they don't form a polycule what's the point

#im watching ep 4 rn and im like ryuuji you are a raging bisexual whos still learning about himself #hearing stories about how people figured out their sexualities and struggled through it makes me chuckle at my own stories #the bisexual- the bestie once asked me about it and planted it as would i kiss date mary a boy and then added what about s girl #and i eas likr yeah i guess i would.... but then the aroace spec part was DIFFICULT a lot of internalized aspec hate i tell you #but i figured it out at the end yayyy <333 #seari watches anime

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thetravelingtyper · 8 months ago

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On The Same Page pt4 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

Taking the day to go to the beach you meet someone new...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Masterlist!

Warning! James is a dick, use of language

“Oh, Flo, where did you go?

Where did you go? Where did you go?”

The song was expected at this point as you ran along the beach. You huffed begrudging, humming along. The song reminded you of America.

The fights kept coming in the few months before you left.

It happened one day, after a day of talking with Sam about trying to start your next book. You had returned home to an upset James. He had met you at the door with a dark look, something storming in his mind that immediately had you asking. Despite your questioning, he remained silent, pacing back and forth before heading to the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

“You're falling about

You took a left off Last Laugh Lane

Just sounding it out

But you're not coming back again

You're falling about

You took a left off Last Laugh Lane

You were just sounding it out

But you're not coming back again”

You just stood stunned in the hallway before turning with a frown to make dinner.

A few minutes later James sauntered out, a mean smirk on his face,

“You’re fucking him aren't you?”

The question came out of nowhere and you dropped the spoon,

At first, you thought he was joking and you cracked a smile.

“Yea, me and an aroace man!”

His eyes sharpened,

“I am not joking you little bitch,”

At the term you froze, anger tightening your muscles as you turned off the stove.

“You will not speak to me that way.”

James huffed and then chuckled, he approached you, running a hand down your hair and the back of your head, then resting on your neck. The next gleam in his eyes frightened you and you pushed at his chest but against his height, you had no power. He gripped the back of your neck and pulled you closer, his mouth brushing close to your ear.

“I will say anything I want.”

And with a final warning, he stepped back fingers slightly digging into your hair before he released.

“You’ll do well to remember that.”

“You used to get it in your fishnets

Now you only get it in your nightdress

Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness

Landed in a very common crisis

Everything's in order in a black hole

Everything was pretty as the past though

That Bloody Mary's lacking in Tabasco

Remember when you used to be a rascal?”

The song finally finished out and you slowed then paused in your running. A sudden weight on your shoulders and in your chest you sank into the sand, not caring about the mess. How could years go to waste? You put your head on your knees. What had you lost?

A love, yes but a vibrant career in one of the best publishing firms in the US. But what of your family, your friends? You disappeared within a week, leaving the only world you knew behind. Despite the state of America, you missed it. You had grown up in your childhood home, worn walls and height lines scribbled into the door frames. You made your first stories in those rooms.

You close your eyes. After a messy relationship in your late teens and early 20s, you left your hometown. Leaving to a liberal arts college on the East Coast you pursued your masters in creative writing. One faithful day in your first year of your masters you met Sam. He was in an engineering program online but was taking a few classes in the college. You had heard his distress over an essay in the campus cafe. And, as a new 23-year-old master's student eager to make friends on campus. You had approached him, explained your position and he nearly grabbed you and threw his essay at you. What followed was the closest friend you had ever found and 6 years of friendship followed. At 25 you graduated with Sam following and entered the publishing business. A few months in you met James and the rest,

Well, the rest is history.��

You stare out into the clear skyed ocean. Sighing, you turn your music back on and just stretch out your legs. Turning the music down you zone out. It was a couple of days after getting Simon’s number, Thursday to be exact, and you had driven out to the coast hoping to get some inspiration. But nothing came up.

You watch the ocean. Now that was something you missed, the sealife along the East Coast. You remember always loving the sea, during the evening taking the boats out to spot blue whales and others.

You soon became lost in thought and as time passed, the sun grew high towards noon. As your thoughts traced the bottom of the sea a shadow overtook your form and you blinked. A body, you notice, a man standing over you, he was speaking. You pull an earbud out to be met with waves and a deep voice pulls your eyes to a handsome face, and a fishing hat?

“You alright down there?”

You look at him unsure, the combination of casual clothes and a camo fishing hat humors you, and you work to pull yourself up. He offers a hand, and with a good spirit, you take it. He pulls you up effortlessly, muscle flexing in the bright sunlight.

“I’m sorry I was lost in thought.”

He gives you an honest smile that doesn't fully reach his eyes making you wonder.

“Quite alright I understand the feeling. Seems to be a lot.”

It’s a strong statement that takes you aback for a moment as the man stares out into the endless blue. You take a moment to observe, something in your writer's mind buzzing. The man is a bit older than you, he carried himself well, shoulders back in proper form but there was a weight there. He wasn’t as tall as Simon but nearly there. His blue eyes meet yours again and there is a depth you try to understand. You brush some sand off your legs to break the weight of his gaze.

You return to his face with a small, shared smile, wondering what he had been through. Holding out a hand you introduce yourself standing a little straighter. Seeing this he nods and grabs your hand.

“Johnathan Price”

His hands are rough, worn after years of work as the name sparks a flame of recognition. Price sees it in your eyes.

“Captain John Price?”

He chuckles and releases your hand but you see the change in his form, subtle but tense.

“Was, retired now. Now how did a lady like you know that?”

You expect the question, and you grin pointing to the hat.

“Johnny goes on and on about you.”

Price relaxes instantly, his smile now reaching his eyes and he chuckles again.

“Soap, a good man. I haven't checked in on the lad in a while. How do you know him?”

You continue to explain your bookstore and meeting Johnny. As you speak Price relaxes and he mentions to a bench a little across the way, towards the end of the beach. Taking a seat you finish up.

“Sounds like John alright. He not giving you any trouble is he?”

You grin,

“Not at all, I've gotten quite used to him dropping by. He and Simon stop in a lot.”

That catches Price’s ear,

“Simon? Now that is interesting. How is he?”

You find his interest understandable, and you answer the best you can.

“He pulled quite a stunt to help me, but I've enjoyed him so far.”

“He certainly has a presence, no worries though at heart he is a good man. He left an impact I assume?”

He says it with a familiar grin, one that tells a history, there is also curiosity there. He raises a brow in expectation which makes you giggle. He looked like a dad, the image of Soap and Simon running around coming to mind for a moment before Price catches the look and raises another brow.

There is respect for the man in Price's tone and you question how long he’d know the quiet man.

“A while, a long while. He served as my lieutenant for years. He and Johnny are close. Been through a lot.”

“I like that about Johnny, he has a lot of stories.” You lean back on the bench to stare up at the sky. Gathering clouds hint at a coming rain blowing in from the sea. You deal in stories but you can’t seem to catch a break, your eyes return to Price to see him observing you with keen eyes.

“Something troubling you?” he asks it honestly and you sigh, feeling the light shine upon you to share.

“Yea. I am an author without ideas currently.”

Price hums,

“I see, that's quite the predicament indeed. What’s causing it?”

You sigh again and the weight of the past few months falls upon your shoulders.

Price sees the change in you instantly and you just crack and break down the situation for him. It starts with your masters, to meeting Sam and James, the company, and your first books. You had started with children’s books following your interest in childhood literacy. As you explain the premise of the books, a fond smile lights up your face.

Of three books, your second was your favorite: It followed the story of a fox kit lost amongst wolves. He was smaller than the rest of the other cubs but soon grew to love his own identity. The Fox’s Den pulled its name from this book. You had based the story on the forest around your childhood home and roaming through the woods while your parents were always too busy to keep you entertained.

With the success of your first books, your manager had insisted on middle-grade fiction and you wholeheartedly agreed. But your old boss at the publisher had dropped the expectation of a young adult or new adult book and you had started brainstorming, but that was when your world came crashing, well, tearing down. You explain this to him.

“Everything was torn out from underneath you, there was nothing you could do. Your heart was, and I believe, still is in your writing, but everything that has happened has tainted your worldview,”

He pauses to regard the ocean for a moment, the winds blowing in cause choppy waves.

“Often when things turn against us, or we have our backs against the wall is when we find it from within ourselves to overcome. Be it from within, or I believe in your case, around you. Perhaps you are just looking in the wrong place. Your past consuming you and tarnishing how you are experiencing the present.”

Price seems to be talking from within himself and it makes you wonder. You look out into the gathering storm. The waves cut like sapphire and the distant rumble of thunder. The close wildness of the ocean engulfs you in the moment. You take in the smell of the sea and exhale. Price was right, you had come here for a new life anyway, and you meant to make the best of it.

Price watches you for a moment,

“I just feel like I am missing something in all of this. Why did it happen?”

Price sets a friendly hand on your shoulder,

“You may never know, but don’t let it consume you, instead revisit your old passions. Take what you remember of home and try to find something here to spark your interest. Besides James sounds like a right nasty bloke.”

Hearing someone older say it makes you feel a lot better. While your friends of course had been on your side it seemed like the entire company had turned against you. All except your manager who had followed you to Sam’s family company. While the boss held no power over you anymore your manager agreed with the sentiment of increasing your output to an older audience. She felt it would be good to expand into that market.

“You're right.”

Price’s advice comes at a good time, and he was right. Maybe you were looking too often into the past. Your phone buzzes, and you look and find a message from Simon. You smile, he was asking to take you up on the offer of tea. Price notices and smiles himself.

“Well, you better get in before the rain hits, dear.”

You put your phone away and nod to the man.

“Thanks, John.”

He stands up and nods.

“Until next time then.” This is all he offers before returning to his original route. Despite there not being an exchange of numbers you couldn't help but feel you would meet the man again.

You sit for a moment longer, lingering on the feeling of being understood and the wildness of the sea. But as the wind picks up you receive a text from Sam. He calls a moment later.

“Where are you?”

“At the beach Mom, what's wrong?”

“I’ve got some interesting news. Besides the news says there's a storm brewing and I think you should head home. Your boyfriend is looking for you, he’s been in twice already.”

At that you are at a loss for words, a slight blush coming over your face,

“Come home buttercup before he haunts the place-” there's a pause on the other line, “and Soap says hi.”

You laugh at that, getting up and starting the run back to the car.

“Alright, I’m on my way, see you in a bit Sam, I'll be in a little late.”

“Drive safe. Bye”

With that you hang up and run, feelings of excitement building.

Taglist: @ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost

End chapter 4

#cod mw2 2022 fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap and reader #simon riley fluff #fanfiction #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #on the same page #captain johnathan price #captain price #john price #Simon rilet x your #Simon riley

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deafsignifcantother · 5 months ago

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if music be the food of love, chapter 6

♥ here you go lovies, it’s series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter seven ♥ summary: after the overlord meeting, zestial pulls you aside to talk to you like a grandpa about love. love? "Thou art in denial, little one." what a pointless observation. of course you aren't in love. ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 5.8k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: alastor brushes reader's hair, zestial does NOT lock in ♥ no tag list rn :3

You wake up rather early to the feeling of Alastor shaking the bed. You groan. Why has he been welcoming himself into your room? When you peek, you notice his claws digging into the mattress to keep hold as he rocks the bed back and forth. "I'm awake," you sign with one weak hand.

Slowly letting go, the bed stops shaking. But the tears are still there. “And about time too, darling. I’ve been trying to wake you up for ten seconds.”

"What is it this time?" You ask, rubbing your hands across your face. "Tell me you have a good reason, please. I'm begging."

He leans and reaches out to gently ruffle your hair as if trying to annoy you further.

“My, someone’s rather grumpy so early in the morning. And I do have a good reason, my dear. I assure you of that.”

"Go on."

He claps his hands together before signing. "I've decided to take you with me, can you guess as to where?"

"I'm too tired for your games."

In a slight touch, he holds your back and guides you to sit up. "Guess. It's somewhere you loved going, for some reason."

Ah. Something you loved but Alastor hated.

"It's the overlord meeting today, isn't it?" You pipe up immediately. "And you're taking me?"

“Ah, my, how observant of you. You’re absolutely right, it is the overlord meeting today, and I am going to bring you with me.” He says, a smirk appearing on his face at your sudden guess, and he confirms the information immediately without hesitation. Ding ding ding. "And I know what you're thinking. You don’t need to worry about them accepting you or not, actually, the last time I went, they asked about you. Quite worried, they were.”

"Really?"

"No," he laughs. "I fibbed. But stand, you need to get ready."

You stand, sighing deeply. It's too early for all of this. While you head towards the bathroom, he opens your wardrobe, looking through the clothes he could dress you in. The bathroom door is slightly open, giving you some sort of comfort, knowing he will walk in rather than appear behind you. You run the brush through the end of your hair, biting the inside of your lip.

He quickly makes a small face at your wardrobe, realizing that most of your clothes are plain and boring; where were all the ones he made for you? He has half-a-mind to burn most of them and buy you all new ones.

He noticed the bathroom door was open as he looked through your clothes and heard you brushing your hair. Stepping forward, he watched the sight, and he smiled.

Your eyes immediately lock on his before you kick the door closed. And in a rare moment, you use your voice. "You're so weird, Alastor!"

He chuckles once you close the door on him, and he can hear your words from the other side. He huffs to himself, muttering. “I’m weird, darling? Now, now, that’s a harsh way of describing your favorite overlord, don’t you think?”

The lovely sound of your accent doesn't escape him. He lingers in it, standing in place with a growing smile before returning to the closet. He knows you'd hate if he lingered too long on your voice. You've trusted him enough to expose it to him. Now, which dress to pick?

His fingers run across the lace. You always looked good in lace. The red sleeves you would wear were his favorite. Do you have those here?

His ears perch when you knock on the wall.

"Which one are you going to pick?" With a brush in your hand and the other free, you continue. "Please let it be something cute. Don't make me match with you again."

“Ah, so you don’t want to match with me again?” He signs, raising a brow before stepping closer toward you, his smirk growing again. “But you looked absolutely to die for last time!”

"I know you think so," you roll your eyes. Your morning smile is more casual than it tends to be. "Imagine how silly it would be if we walked in wearing similar things. That's humiliating."

It's all teasing. More than humiliating, it would be hilarious.

He steps closer, not appreciating your words very much. A smirk appears on his face again as he gently grabs some of your hair between his fingers.

“Oh, don’t act all modest, darling. I know just how much you loved matching with me. You absolutely adored it.” He teases back, testing your tone, his smirk becoming more mischievous.

"Sure," You won't give him the satisfaction of knowing he's right. "Is that going to be your final decision, or do I get a say in my outfit?" You place the hairbrush on your dresser; he eyes it. He considering picking it up. But he quickly glances over at you once more, his smirk growing even wider than before

“My, look at you, all confident and stubborn. And I suppose I’ll let you have a choice in your outfit, after all. Give me a show!"

"Alright," You step past him, plucking certain dresses to remind you what they are. Red, red, red. Alright, maybe you're going to end up matching him. "Black? Would black satisfy you?"

He can see the exact moment you realize you would be matching with him regardless.

“Oh, don’t worry about satisfying me, darling. You always look lovely no matter what you wear. But maybe you should choose the other color.” He signs in a sarcastic yet still polite manner, crossing his arms as he watches your expression closely.

You make a clicking noise and flicker the hangers to the side. And there he spots it, a red dress with lace sleeves. Alastor's heart skips a beat. His eyebrows immediately furrow at the sensation. His chest tightened, but only for a moment. He needs to collect himself.

"That one," he stands beside you and touches it, running his fingers down it.

"This dress? It's so old." You laugh.

"Yes, this one. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you wearing it.” He said, taking a long moment to let his eyes thoroughly examine the dress before looking up at you again. “I still remember the first time you wore it, you looked absolutely lovely in it, darling. You still do.”

"I'll wear it then." You take it off the hanger and place it against your chest, testing the look in the standing mirror beside your bed. "It even looks old. But you like this style, don't you? I suppose the lace is a little contemporary, though."

You sign with one hand, something that always makes him smile. You would have to do that long ago when you didn't want him to know what you said. Now, he can understand it perfectly.

Without words, he walks over and stands next to you, staring at your reflection in the mirror. "Do you need help getting undressed?"

"What? No!"

But by his smile, you see that he was only joking.

You huff. "Turn around, or get out of here."

“My, my, so cruel.” He still turns away from you, giving you some privacy. He doesn't leave.

You swiftly remove your nightgown and go to your dresser for the underlayers. They're all folded neatly. Interesting. Your conclusion came quickly; he must have done that while you were sleeping. Was he watching you sleep? Of course he was.

The cotton underlayers hug you tightly. The red dress isn't as puffy as your usual ones. It's only three layers: a ruffle that appears at the bottom, the bodice, and then the overall, which shines red. There's a dip in the necklace down the center of your chest where your music can come through. The sleeves fall to your fingers, moving gently at your every movement. It still hasn't dawned on you why he noticed this dress specifically. You even give a childish swirl as you assess yourself.

You clap your hands.

He smiled brightly as he heard the rustling of clothes and fabric behind him, silently imagining what you were doing. He can almost see the exact expression on your face, ideal in his head, as you are doing so. You often have a light in your eyes when you show off your clothing to him. Old body language that he's always remembered.

The moment you clap, his smile grows wider again as he silently smiles and slowly turns around. As soon as he entirely turns, his eyes fall onto you.

“Looking as lovely as ever, darling.”

"Why, thank you." You curtsey, even going all in and crossing your ankles and dipping your head. You laugh before you look back up at him. His heart can't stop racing. Your courtesy has him silently cursing to himself at the sight; as you link eyes with him, he quickly forces a casual smile on his face as he stares at you.

“How polite! I’ve never seen you curtsy before.”

He says, trying to push down his senses.

"Courtesy of the era." You wave your hand dismissively, one of your most casual tendencies. "It fits the moment. Anyway, shall we be on our way?"

“Yes, yes, we should get going. They’ll be waiting for us after all, but before we go, I'm afraid I've forgotten something." Alastor drops his hands and takes a small step forward.

"Don't loom like that. It scares me."

“Oh, my darling, do you know that you get increasingly amusing every day? But I’m not going to do anything to you, I promise; I was just going to…help you with something, dear.” He looks you up and down for another moment. He quickly glances towards your dresser. Your eyes go up and down your body. Is your speaker dusty? Is it a ripped seam? He'd definitely catch something like that. A small patch of blood? No, there's no way you'd not notice.

His eyes follow yours as you analyze yourself.

“Oh, it’s nothing like that, don’t worry, darling. You look absolutely perfect.” Once again, his gaze shifted towards your dresser, and he walks towards it.

The hairbrush.

You scoff. "Really?"

"I just noticed your hair, do you mind?”

He said, gently picking up the hairbrush and staring at it momentarily, a smile still on his face. You hum.

"Go ahead, I won't stop you." You take a breath before turning around. Imagine how funny it would be if he just wacks you with it.

He stands behind you closely, looks at your hair, and raises the hairbrush to begin brushing it.

Him touching you feels so natural. There's even a softened tone to your music, stereotypical romantic tunes. He rolls his eyes. Where's the jazz?

He can practically sense the enjoyment radiating off of you. His brushes are gradual and gentle.

He's stalling. You reach over my head and grab his wrist, turning your body. "That's enough, my love. Are you satisfied? Let's get going."

He slowly stops, raises a brow, and lowers the hairbrush back to his side. “Oh, you have no patience this morning, my love. Don’t be in such a rush.”

You give him a small smile, leaning in, your eyes widening. "You're the one that woke me up. Don't tell me the meeting isn't for a long time."

“No, no, the meeting is early, we do have to get going soon. But we do could play with the clock…” He mimics your usual behavior by waving his hand dismissively.

"Alastor. Come on, now I'm excited for it. Your fault."

It doesn't leave your mind that he wants to spend time with you. It may be worth being a little late. It's not as if everybody is always on time. Plus, you've always loved a grand entrance.

“Of course you are. We’ll get going in a moment.”

You turn your head, furrowing your brows. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything’s fine! Why do you ask?"

"Alastor, be serious. Is something wrong or do you really just miss me?" The second option puts a lopsided smile on your face. Is the Radio Demon missing you? Missing? Missing? He has admitted feeling that way once or twice before, but having him be so obvious about it is a bit off-putting.

"Eh, just a little." When he does the sign, he squints his eye to add emphasis. When he sees your smile, your knowing smile, and he just can't keep up the act any longer. "Maybe."

"We'll be together when we walk. Alastor, please. You're stressing me out." You grab his hand, making bold contact, trying to pull him along.

He is caught slightly off guard. He stays in place momentarily before sighing and finally giving in, letting you pull him along until he steps forward and opens your bedroom door for you. When you step through, his shadow closes it for him, and he walks by your side. He patiently intertwines his fingers with yours.

It doesn't last long. When you leave the hotel doors, Alastor pulls away, straightening his tie and repositioning his smile. "Let's get a move on."

"Thank you."

He side-eyes you, rolling his eyes, stepping along with confidence only an overlord can have. You follow along with the same conviction. The city feels different when your chin is lifted and a smirk on your face the entire time. Your music draws everybody away except Alastor, who is pleased with your impact on the weak souls around you. Good girl.

You end up walking ahead of him, a skip almost in your step. That tall building that you love so much comes into view. And as you step through the alley, he glares at the security cameras. His eyes narrow, and he stares straight at it in a challenging manner before looking away and continuing to follow after you. Ridiculous.

You turn to him. "Will everything be okay?" You take a deep breath, but your smile doesn't leave your face despite your anxiety. "I need to hear it."

His head tilts, staring at you in a somewhat confused manner. "There is nothing to worry about."

His eyes soften, only just a bit, but it's something that you'll always notice. He wants to make sure you are satisfied with his answer.

"Perfect, thank you. That's all I needed to hear." You turn on your heel, not even giving him a chance to respond before clicking the button for the elevator, waiting and staring up at it. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and your speaker even pulsates a bit. You never dreamed you'd be able to come to another meeting.

He is tempted to keep talking, to try and say something else to you, but there's no way he would break your concentration.

He stays silent then, just watching you as he waits with you.

The elevator takes a long time, or is it because time slows when he looks at you? Your smile remains on your face; is it because of him?

He bites down the urge to touch the low of your back, to hold you like the gentleman he is.

It's almost as if you can tell if you felt his eyes on you. You step closer to him, bumping your shoulder into his, but the elevator dings before you can do anything further. He motions to it, and you race him inside.

"Are we on time?" You glance down at the alley below as it starts to get farther. "I hope Camilla doesn't get upset."

“We’re on time, don’t worry. Camilla won’t get upset. She’s still very…very particular, is all…”

"I know that much."

His urges get the best out of him. He holds your waist, turning you around when it's time to exit the elevator. Immediately, the sight of the long white table sparks happiness. And all of your former friends sit together. Control yourself. You raise your chin, saunter, and hold your hands before yourself. When Camilla straightens, you just give her a nod. Her eyes flicker down to your speaker, looking back at your face.

What does my music sound like? Oh, goodness me.

Alastor obnoxiously drags a chair from the end to one next to his. The second person you look at is Zestial. He interlocks his fingers when he sees you, sending a slight nod your way, which you smile as you return. Elder to elder.

Camilla's large hands lift, her signing a bit rusty, but she manages to convey the simple.

Angels, angels, angels. Of course that's all it is. That's all it ever seems to be. But this time is different. A dead one? That's new. You eye Alastor, who just stares at her. He's known this.

The most exciting part of the meeting is when it ends, not because of the excusing but because of how Zestials lifts his hand, addresses the others, signs to you, and asks you to stay, alone. It's similar to when a teacher asks you to stay after class. You turn to Alastor, your bright smile granting him no pleasure. He's going to wait outside whether you like it or not. He's on his way regardless, standing guard by the elevator, eyeing you while you sit next to the oldest overlord.

When Zestial lifts his hands, your shoulders relax. He signs in the way you signed growing up. His hands hang low, and his head always faces you. It has a touch of French, it's proper, and it's lovely. But the best part about it is how Alastor will never be able to understand.

"What hath compelled thee to venture back?"

Your mind flickers your memory to Alastor's discreet name sign.

"Oh, just Alastor business. The typical things. I've missed you dearly, old friend. I've missed your accent. It's treacherous to try and sign to these children."

"Alastor? T'is of no surprise, I suppose. He hast ever been full of whimsy and caprice. Pray tell, hast he roped thee into his wild plans?"

Your heart skips a beat. His plans? What has he planned? Zestial has always been more knowledgeable than you and always will be. He can read people like no other. And he knows something you don't. "As always, you know him. And you know me. I'll go along on whatever trail he drags me through."

"How predictable. Though art truly a sap to his antics, as thou has always hast. Such fun he has with the strings of thy heart, pulling and tugging, dancing you about, like one of his radio plays."

Though he pierces you, you just roll your eyes. "Is this what you wanted to talk about? Not what I imagined for our reunion, dearest you."

He chuckles and sips his tea, swirling it around in his cup. "A fair query, little one. This conversation art simply a preamble. I desire more knowledge, to quench my curiosity."

"Go ahead."

"Thou art always a bold one. Very well, I shall entertain."

But he stops at that, taking another sip of his tea as if dwelling on something.

You interrupt, trying to stop him from what seems to be the worst sentence you'll ever process in your life.

"I change my mind! Shall we change the topic? Don't you remember how beautiful the snow was? I miss it. Do you miss snow?"

He nods and grins faintly, his expression softening at the memory. "Ah, yes. The snowfall... I recall it vividly. How Hell's time doth fly..."

He gazes at you with curiosity when you get antsy over Alastor, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Little one, I am sure Alastor's antics have led ye to this point. Though there is a query, little one, I wish to ask of ye."

Another 'go-ahead' almost makes its way to your hands. "Anything."

He hums to himself, tapping his claws against the side of his teacup. He then looks back at you, his gaze gentle and warm.

"Little one, what is the extent of thy love for Alastor?"

An audible woah leaves your lips. But you cover it up with a sly smile. "Why would you think I love him?"

He takes a long sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving yours. He puts it down. "Because of the way thou art around him. The way thou smile in his presence. The way thou speak with him, how thy eyes light up in his company. How thou would jump at the chance to do something for him. All signs point to love. And thou seem shocked and surprised for some reason. Ah, how have I forgotten. Your lullabies."

You close your eyes; he's undoubtedly testing your patience. But over what? Counterproductive accusations? Though the memories of Alastor's small caresses and willingness to put himself out of his comfort to make you smile play on repeat. Love, what a silly word. "Perhaps I love him in the slightest bit. But he's a dear friend, and don't be fooled, dearest. Nothing will ever come from it."

"Thou art in denial, little one. Doth thou truly think I cannot sense the stirring in thy heart when thou art around him? Love is a powerful force... though I imagine it may frighten and confuse one such as thyself." He smiles, mildly scolding.

"I would certainly never die for him. That's a part of love, isn't it? Devotion. I haven't devoted myself nor have I given my soul to him. We are companions. We will always be." There you go again, pessimistic towards the future.

"Devotion is a part of love, yes. But there are many different kinds of love, little one. Not all require the sacrifice of one's soul. However, companions you say, is that all he is to thee, then?"

No. "Yes, of course." The response is short. You focus your stare on Zestial's. You've definitely missed these conversations very much, no matter how annoying they may be. Talking to Zestial is like having a coffee with a distant friend. "A companion."

"Companion... that is what thee claims, but thy heart say otherwise. Dost thou recall the saying "denial is the first stage of grief"? Because it fits quite nicely in this condition." He grins, enjoying the banter. His little counterpart is getting so frustrated over something so simple.

"Zestial, excuse me, if you are so certain I am in love then what do you say I should do about it? What do you think? Bestow upon me your words, but make them kinder, please and thank you."

"Very well, little one. If thou truly wish for mine advice, I shall give it. Be warned, though... it may not be the answer thou is expecting." He pauses momentarily, "Thou art hesitant to admit it, but thou do love the radio demon. That much is clear to see. Doth thou wish for the chance to... act on thy feelings?"

And then you finally give in, not fighting it anymore, sighing and placing a hand on your temple, massaging it while you piece together words. You start to sign. "He'll hate me if I do."

Zestial is taken aback by your expression and how vulnerable you seem. You have never let him see this emotion. You add, "I'm being serious."

He nods in acknowledgment and sighs gently. "I see... thou art more serious than I thought. Dost thou truly fear his rejection and hate, then?"

"I just wonder if he'd disappear again. He say he'll always be here with me, but you know how he is." You huff. "Empty promises. But who can blame him? Maybe it's my fault for always believing him."

He nods again. He knows Alastor's nature well, the empty promises, and the endless chaos he brings.

Zestial basks in at the pain in your eyes. Your music affects everybody around you; that much is an unmistakable fact. It's probably torturing the people outside as you speak. He remains untouched.

"Ah... so thou are worried he will disappear once more, leaving thou behind. Is that the true fear within thy heart?"

"That's all there is. I don't know anything else he would do, realistically. Let's not play with the impossible."

"Thou are a wise one, little one." He pauses, contemplating his words, standing from his seat before continuing. "Let us speak in hypotheticals, then. Just humour me this one time, my dear melody."

"I know what you're about to say, but proceed. I won't stop you. Though, don't expect me to answer." You try to act stubbornly, but your smile still comes.

"Very well. Then let us play a game of 'what if'." He says and starts to pace around you, his eyes studying you closely as he signs. "What if, just presume... the unthinkable happens. And for in this lifetime, Alastor actually reciprocates your feelings..."

"How would I tell? And I'm not going to say my feelings outright." You put a hand on your chest. "Goodness me, I'd rather die a second time. What a nightmare that would be."

"Ah, so thou would rather perish than confess thy feelings. Very well, I understand. Then, let us consider another path. Let us suppose that Alastor gives... a portent."

With the best of your ability, you lift your shaking hands. "His indications are a bit hazy, I'm afraid. Between the caresses and the kindness, there is a constant sense of confusion if that's his form of friendship or if he's treating me as if I'm special."

He stops pacing and stands in front of you. "Ah, yes. Alastor is certainly known for his puzzling ways. It can be difficult to decipher his intentions. Is that part of the reason why thou art so hesitant and fearful, because thou cannot be sure of his true feelings for thee?"

"I didn't know you were a therapist, Zestial. Is that a new trait?" Your smile twitches, and your eyebrows furrow. You sit on the table, keeping your eyes on him. "It's appalling."

"Ah, thou art trying to evade the question. But I see right through thee. 'Tis futile to try and hide the truth."

He steps closer to you, his expression sincere.

"Thou art frightened by the uncertainty, are thou not? The fear that Alastor does not truly share thy feelings."

"I think anybody would feel the same." Your eyes glance at the floor momentarily before looking up; a special glint is in them. "He picked this dress for me this morning. I think it holds a special memory for him. But I don't think I can even guess what it is. I can't place a specific time I've worn this before."

He looks you up and down, intrigued by the memory it holds. He hasn't the slightest clue, either.

"Ah, so he picked this dress for thee? Interesting..."

He muses to himself.

"And thou do not recall the specific time thou wore it before? Have thou ever worn it in his company?"

Your face starts to heat. Quickly, you realize that this is why you couldn't remember. "Perhaps I wore it whenever we went out. Maybe that's what it is. Every time we'd sit together at a cafe and just talk for hours. It's a good memory." It gives you a sinking feeling in your gut, and the memories spark that sick, dreadful feeling of love.

"Ah, that doth explain it. The memories thou share with Alastor, the hours spent conversing in cafes. It seems thy mind has chosen to associate this dress with those joyous moments."

He observes you closely, sensing a hint of something else stirring beneath the surface. A sinking feeling, a fear, perhaps? But of what?

"But I've worn other dresses too." It's your turn to pace. "Unless there was a certain spot we went to! No, we tended to stay in the same area. Maybe it was a murder we committed, a special one? Have I gotten this dress bloody before?" You look down. "No, I'd never."

"Thou art a detective now."

"Be serious." Your hands move frantically. "If you picked out a special dress for me, what reason would it be? What would you relate it to? Help me here, it would mean the world to him if I remembered, I know that."

"Very well, let me indulge thy curiosity for a moment. If I were to pick out a striking dress for thee, and thou were to associate it with a particular memory... A special occasion, a moment that holds meaning and emotion. Not a situation, but a moment."

A moment. You point out memories in your head. A kiss? No, you've never kissed. I love you? You've never said that, either. A hug? Is that significant enough? You two hug all the time now.

"None seem to resonate with thee just yet. Mayhaps there is something that thou is overlooking. A detail, small but meaningful." He takes a step closer, his eyes scanning over the dress.

"Do you know? Are you teasing me, Zestial?" The confusion on your face drops just a bit to accommodate your soft smile. "Has he talked to you about me?"

"Me? Teasing thee?" He feigns outrage, the notion warming your heart. "Perish the thought, my dear! But to answer thy question, yes, Alastor has spoken of thee. Many times, in fact."

"Oh goodness, what does he say? Good things, I plead." You stand directly before him, staring at him, matching his posture.

"Ah, little one, rest assured, it is nothing but good things he speaks of thee. His praise for thee knows no bounds. That is all."

"Has he mentioned the dress before? Ever? Knowing Alastor, what would you suppose his connection to this damn dress is?" It's bothering you more and more. What if Alastor gets hurt that you don't remember? Or is he betting that you won't? Oh no, what if it's something ridiculous?

"Ah, little one, thou art so eager to get to the bottom of this mystery." His shoulders drop as he sighs. "Alastor has never mentioned the dress itself to me. I apologize that I cannot assist further."

You stare at him for a long while, eyes locked on his. He holds your gaze. He's not lying. This is so frustrating.

"Alastor's waiting for me." You take a step back, hesitant to end the conversation. "I'm afraid I must go."

"I understand. Thou must not keep Alastor waiting." He holds back a chuckle at the thought of Alastor's impatience. "But before thou go, may I offer thee a parting thought?"

"Of course, dearest you. Continue." You place your hands behind your back, clenching your fists.

"I must ask you to consider the possibility that thou may never remember it. At least not right now."

When you think he is done talking, he grabs your attention again by putting a finger under your chin and tilting your head.

"And little one, have caution. Thou aren't worth the suffering."

You laugh, put a hand on your speaker, and feel your rapid heartbeat. "Is that all?"

"Do not allow the weight of thy own expectations, or the expectations of others, to overwhelm thee." He dips his head. "Farewell, my dear."

Your body works with automatics as you curtsey to him. He stares at you as you do. He smiles. Others have lost their manners over the centuries, especially to royals like yourselves.

"Farewell, Zestial."

You let out a breath as you step away. He's staring at your back. All you can do is hope that he's been letting you off easy, relieving you of a longer lecture.

Alastor stares at you, face neutral, his smile offering no context to his emotions.

Zestial eyes you, his eyes flickering to Alastor's before he makes his way towards Carmilla's chambers.

You smile, missing the notion. "Well, did you miss me? We can be on our way now."

Internally annoyed that you had spent so long talking to Zestial in a language he didn’t understand, his annoyance turned into slight confusion as his eyes briefly followed Zestial’s gaze.

“Ah, darling…did you have fun talking to Zestial again?”

"Always. He's a good friend." You press the button for the elevator, reaching in front of him to do so. You enter before adding on. "Perfectly so."

Perfectly so, hm? His irritation slowly grows. He stays silent for a moment, waiting with you in the elevator for a moment before he finally lifts his hands, his posture growing more tense, and his smile is slightly strained.

“You enjoy talking to him a lot, don’t you?”

"Don't be jealous, Alastor. It's just different. He'd never be able to replace you." Holding him softly, you reach out to his cheek, and he leans into your touch. He has a warmth that your body could never imitate. His cheeks are soft, the corner of his lips brushing against your thumb. But then you pinch his cheek, smiling at him as if he were a child. "Somebody your age wouldn't get it."

He swats your hand away, ears pinned to his head. "Your on the verge of death, my dear."

"Always so."

"Well, I hope you had fun, because you are prohibited from doing that again."

"I'll do it again eventually."

He snarls. "And I will eat you alive."

"I'm sure you will."

“Oh, you just love pushing my buttons, don’t you, darling…”

You just shrug, watching the familiar alleyway become ground level as the doors open. "It's the most fun a girl can have around here."

And with that, you walk off, not checking if he followed behind. He didn't; he didn't take a single step, sinking into his shadows to appear right in front of you. You catch yourself before bumping into him.

"Oh, no, no, no. You can't escape that easy."

"I wasn't trying to."

With how close his body is, you can only think of Zestial's words. Love. Is it true?

"Good. I'd never let you get away."

His warmth engulfs you as he wraps one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders, bringing you in for a hug. You don't know where to put your hands. Does he want you to hug him back, or is this only for a second? When his grip tightens, you softly place your hands on his shoulder blades, feeling their sharpness even through his coat.

And then he pulls away, tightening his bowtie. "Now that's done, let's head back. I have a lovely recipe I'd like you to try!"

"I'm excited."

Your body holds no signs of love. That's the way it should be. Even when he has you, you won't portray any emotion like that to him. He'd take advantage of it; you know he would.

Such fun he has with the strings of thy heart, pulling and tugging, dancing you about, like one of his radio plays.

Ah, you realize. Is he already?

ft.

LOCK IN ZESTIAL!!!

#hazbin hotel #x deaf reader #x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #if music be the food of love

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catreginae · 5 months ago

Text

This Ring is a Shield

As far as the others knew, Warriors' ring was just something he wore to make sure other people didn't flirt with him to much. What they don't know is that Warriors technically married and that the platonic nature of his marriage actually works great for both him and his wife. It should have been easy to explain the nature of his marriage but in truth, he's just tired. He's tired of the comments, tired of the advice he didn't asked for, and tired of the pity. AKA the "Warriors and his wife are both aroace but Warriors takes his sweet time telling the chain" fic. I wrote a one-shot! A long one but it's a one shot and I finished it just in time for the aro and ace prompts for the @queering-the-chain event. You can also find this fic on AO3!

When Warriors saw the collection of buildings ahead of them signifying civilization, he pulled his ring out of one of his many pouches and slipped it onto his ring finger. The ring was slightly too big when he didn’t have his gloves on but seeing as he only really wore it in uniform, he didn’t have any reason to complain about it. Getting it sized down a notch wouldn’t be difficult but the thought only ever crossed his mind when he happened to be somewhere he couldn’t get it done.

“Why do you only put the ring on when we’re around other people?” Wind asked as he sped up to keep up with Warriors.

“Because he wants people to think he’s married,” Legend answered with a shrug. “It lets people know that they don’t have a chance with him. It helps when you’re in an era that isn’t your own and you don’t want to complicate whatever this is even further. The timeline is fragile enough without becoming your own great-grandfather or something stupid like that.”

Warriors hummed, wondering if it was wise to correct Legend. The veteran was definitely correct about one thing – he didn’t want people to be interested in him. However, he was technically married. He didn’t blame the others for thinking he was single, seeing as he called Time’s wedding ring a shackle and he didn’t treat his own ring as a symbol of love and devotion. Warriors didn’t think that the others would give him a hard time if he told him that he was married and why but in his experience, trying to explain his feelings on romance and intimacy was an exercise in frustration.

“You’re on the right track,” he said after a moment of hesitation. He didn’t have to explain it all now. Warriors could just give them something to think about and leave it at that.

“Right track?” Legend huffed. “Where am I wrong?”

Warriors chuckled and ruffled Legend’s hair, dislodging his hat from where he usually kept it on his head. Legend responded with a growl as he swatted the captain’s hands away and readjusted his hat.

Thankfully, they went the rest of the day without anybody asking about the ring on his finger.

“Thanks for coming, Link,” Zelda greeted as Link dropped the salute and she motioned for him to sit in the chair across from hers. “I have a big favour to ask of you and you’re going to hate it.”

Link didn’t say anything, electing to let Zelda continue speaking.

“I’ve been negotiating with the Arlet family for more support in the court,” she started. Link nodded along. From what he knew of the court, a lot of the nobles were giving her some trouble regarding how she was getting and allocating funds for the ongoing reconstruction effort, which was further behind than Zelda wanted. Getting the support of any of the noble families for this issue, and any future concerns, would be a massive relief for her. The less people she had to argue with, the better. “They are willing to support me and fund some of the reconstruction themselves... in exchange for your hand in marriage with one of their daughters.”

He gulped. Oh, she was definitely right when she said he was going to hate it. Zelda knew he wasn’t interested in marriage but he supposed that when he pledged allegiance to Zelda and Hyrule, that was out of his hands. She said it would be a favour but Link knew there wasn’t actually a choice in the matter. After all, she didn’t actually ask him.

“Do I at least get to meet her?”

“That can be arranged. Link... look, I know you don’t want to be married but...”

“It’s politics. I know.”

“Gah! Where is it?” No matter how many times Warriors looked through all of his bags and pouches, he couldn’t find his ring. It wouldn’t be missed or hard to replace thanks to the fact that he married into nobility but he didn’t want to have to admit to his in-laws that ever lost it in the first place. His wife wouldn’t care because she wasn’t all attached to the rings whatsoever and she only wore hers when she had to leave the villa. He couldn’t afford to be an embarrassment to Athena though.

Maybe it was on the ground? He swore he had it before they set up camp, so it couldn’t have gone too far away.

“What are you looking for?” Four asked. Warriors was so engrossed in his search that he jumped slightly when he heard Four.

“My ring. I can’t find it in any of my bags.”

Without question, Four got down on his hands and knees and started patting the ground for it. As far as the rest of them knew, it was a cheap ring he used to prevent people from flirting with him too much, but it was kind of Four to help him find it regardless of what he might have thought it was.

“Oh, here it is!” Four announced as he held up the ring. “Huh, this is good quality gold and I think I see engraving... Are you sure that this is just-”

“Thanks for finding it!” Warriors said as he plucked the ring out of Four’s fingers and put it back in his satchel where it usually stayed when he wasn’t wearing it on his finger. He really ought to find a better place for it. Maybe he should use it for its intended purpose more often and just wear it on his finger, even if he didn’t care for the symbolism behind it.

“Maybe you should have a small pocket for it in your satchel. Maybe with some sort of button. It would suck if you lost it in another era.”

“That’s not a bad idea...” It wouldn’t be hard to make a pocket inside of this satchel. He just needed some more material for it. Why didn’t he think of that before?

Link sat in one of Zelda’s meeting rooms with his heart drumming in the pit of stomach. He was sitting at a small, rounded table with a pot of tea and some biscuits in the middle. He already poured himself a cup and ate one of the biscuits in an effort to calm his nerves a bit. It didn’t help. He found himself wishing he was outside fighting something big – at least he was confident in his swordsmanship.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Link shifted so that his back was straight. A guard in full uniform opened the door and walked in, followed by a tall yet slim woman with chestnut coloured hair pinned into a bun. Her dress was plain, yet well-made from what Link could see, and the green and brown colour scheme matched her green eyes. When she approached the table, Link realized she would be taller than he was if he stood up. She took the seat opposite of his.

“I take it you’re Captain Link?”

“Yes. Just Link is fine.”

“You can call me Vivienne,” she said as she held her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Link took it. “Likewise...” he said as the guard walked out. Once the door was closed, Link let her hand go. “Before we start talking, I just wanted to say that I’m not actually... interested in couple things. I don’t really like romance and I never had the desire for intimacy and no offense, but I don’t think that will change any time soon. If I had a choice, I would probably never get married or hook up with anybody.”

He was the man who stared death in the face several times in his life so far but telling a stranger who was going to be his wife how he actually felt about being married was one of the most nerve-wracking things he had ever done. He was less nervous when the fate of Hyrule was resting on his shoulders.

“I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up...” he added slowly when she didn’t respond at first.

“Link, it’s... it’s fine. In fact... I was trying to figure out how I would say the same thing to you. I’m glad you said it first,” she said with an awkward chuckle but she also had an easy smile that actually made Link relax a little.

“So... we want the same thing. Am I hearing that right?”

“Yes. It seems as though we make a good match, though not for the typical reasons noble families arrange marriages for their children. We can make this work, I’m sure. After all, I doubt either one of us would get this opportunity to marry like minded people again.” She relaxed her shoulders as reached for one of the biscuits. That was when it finally sunk in for Link – he had nothing to fear. Zelda wouldn’t know it but her favour was actually a blessing.

“No kidding. Just to think I was so scared,” he said with a deep sigh, putting a hand on his chest. “If nothing else, I know how to put on a show.”

Spending time at the ranch was sometimes a bit of an odd affair for Warriors. It wasn’t that he hated doing hard work that often involved him getting dirty somehow, as much as the others like to make assumptions about his current life that happened to be close to the city. He didn’t mind any of the work Time gave them just to keep them busy and tire them out because collectively, they needed to burn some energy. None of them were really good at just sitting still.

He just felt awkward around Malon and Time sometimes. It wasn’t anything they did together or even separately – he loved them both. He was happy for both of them because they truly seemed to fit well together. Time deserved to be happy after everything he went through.

The problem was that he couldn’t get his brain to shut up. Sometimes, it was hard to watch Time and Malon enjoy their marriage without all the ‘life advice’ and the persistent questioning about his nonexistent dating life racing through his head and weighing him down. He could imagine all of those people pointing at Time and Malon, setting them up as the prime example of everything he was supposedly missing out on.

Aren’t you lonely without a partner? You just have to find the right person, then you’ll fall in love. You’ll settle down later in life, you’re just busy right now. Won’t you regret it if you don’t have any kids?

Those weren’t even the worst. The worst was the pity, the way they looked like they were sorry for him.

Like he was broken.

“Warriors?”

“Hm?” It took him a second to realize that somebody was trying to talk to him. It also took him a second to realize that his wrist was sore from holding his head up as he lounged against the horse fence. How long did he zone out for? His brain, his current worst enemy, helpfully reminded him that getting distracted like that in the battlefield would have gotten him or somebody else killed. Thanks, brain, he really needed that.

“Wow, you really are distracted,” Legend mumbled. “What’s going on? You look upset.”

Legend was good at teasing and poking fun but he was also good at knowing when it wasn’t welcomed. He must have zoned out for longer than he thought if Legend was frowning at him like that.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? You’re all tense. I know the ranch will never be completely safe but you can relax a little bit.”

“I... yeah.” Legend was right, though not for the reason he might have thought. He shouldn’t let a bunch of people he could barely remember ruin his time at the ranch. How often do people get to travel through time and visit their now giant little brother’s home? Time and Malon did absolutely nothing but be welcoming and kind to him. It wasn’t them who tried to give him advice he never asked for. “I think I’ll just head inside.”

He heard Legend huff as pushed himself off the fence and walked inside the house.

Link woke up with the sun as he always did but it still took him a moment to remember just where he was waking up. He wasn’t used to the soft bed sheets, he wasn’t used to sleeping with more pillows than anybody actually needed to sleep, and he wasn’t used to being vaguely aware of another body in the same bed he was in. Luckily, his bed and sheets were so large that he had yet to really feel Vivienne moving around, but that didn’t stop him from being aware that she was there.

This morning though, she wasn’t there and if his head didn’t pound so much, he would have gotten up to go look for her. He always woke up before she did.

No, he should get up anyway. He had to go to the training grounds. The army had a lot of new recruits and he was one of the captains responsible for training the recruits who started to show some promise with a sword or at least seemed interested in learning how to use one. He sat up and a wave of dizziness struck him, forcing him to settle his head into his hands with his elbows digging into his thighs. His head was still pounding. His stomach felt like it was going to betray him.

Suddenly, the door opened. Link didn’t lift his head up to see who it was but only Vivienne would be around at the moment. The only other person who spent a lot of time in the villa, a women they hired named Clarissa who helped them maintain the villa, didn’t come in until much later in the morning. Usually, Link only saw her when he returned home and she was just getting ready to leave.

“Go back to sleep, Link,” Vivienne said as she guided him back down to the mattress. “I’ve already pulled a couple of strings to make sure that anybody who was expecting you knows you’re not available for the foreseeable future. You have quite the fever there.”

Oh, yeah, that would explain things.

However, it was also putting it mildly.

He was barely able to keep anything down except for some plain toast and water and even then, sometimes the toast was too much. His head never stopped aching or spinning so he had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep. Vivienne was concerned enough to call for a doctor, who was constantly trying new medicine or new dosages. Sometimes he could keep the medicine down, sometimes he couldn’t. The doctor came daily to check for any signs for change for better or for worse. He supposed that was a perk to being married into a noble family – they had the extra rupees to pay for a doctor’s full attention.

No matter how bad it got though, Vivienne and Proxi, who dropped into their home at some point and declared that she was staying until he felt better, were always around for him. Proxi helped with encouraging words or translating his mumbled speech to Vivienne or the doctor. Vivienne was always there to help him feel more comfortable, like washing his face and back, changing the sheets, or holding his hair back when something upset his stomach too much. Sometimes, she even rubbed small circles into his back until he drifted off to sleep for as long as his body would allow.

All in all, it took nearly three weeks before Link was well enough to return to the barracks. They weren’t married for that long and once he was well, Link found himself a little embarrassed that one of her first impressions of him was him being violently ill.

Vivienne simply smiled when he said as much. “Link, we might be stuck together but I consider you to be a friend nonetheless and when one of my friends is suffering, I try my best to make it better. I’m glad you’re alright now and I’m glad I didn’t catch whatever that was.”

“You should be. It was awful.”

“I didn’t know you liked cats,” Twilight said with a grin as squatted down to scratch one of them behind the ears while Warriors was busy petting one down the length of its back. It was a creamy-white colour with long, fluffy fur that seemed pretty well taken care of if it was truly a stray. All the cats he saw had soft and shiny coats, seemed to be of a healthy weight, and he didn’t see any signs of illness. Maybe somebody did take care of them all. There were a few people in his own Castletown who took it upon themselves to make sure the strays were doing well.

He felt like he ought to be doing more, since they were in a large city and not every era had a big city to explore. Twilight’s Castletown felt much like his own, busy and bursting with life, including the very many cats he found in one of the residential side streets. However, he was busy petting cats and he didn’t think the cats weren’t going to let him go anytime soon even if he did want to leave. The cats were the perfect distraction for his very busy mind and they seemed to sense that he needed a distraction because they surrounded him in an instant. He was petting one or two at a time but the rest were doing their own thing, simply content to bless him with their presence. How could he possibly leave them to go do errands?

“Oh, I love them! I have one of my own, actually.”

Warriors always did enjoy cats but his parents never allowed one in their home, since it was attached to their store and well, his parents didn’t want fur all over the clothes they were trying to sell. He didn’t like it but his parents had a point. It wasn’t until he moved in with Vivienne that a pet was feasible – they had the room and she spent most of her time indoors, so Penelope was never alone for too long.

“Really? You have a pet? Aren’t you busy being a big shot in the army?” Twilight asked with the grin that always accompanied his playful jabs to Warriors’ career choice.

“Well, I don’t live alone. I have a roommate who takes care of her when I’m not around. That’s why we picked her out together from a neighbour’s litter. She looks kind of like this one,” Warriors said, gesturing to the cat he was petting, “but she’s all white and her name is Penelope.”

“Penelope!” Twilight was practically squealing. “Fucking adorable.”

Thankfully, Twilight didn’t ask about his roommate. He didn’t feel like explaining that his roommate was actually his wife and Penelope was regarded as their child and she was even introduced to his in-laws as such. Link inquired about putting Penelope in their will to inherit their estate should they both die suddenly and tragically young but her parents only begrudgingly called Penelope ‘the furry grandchild’, so they wouldn’t find it as funny as they did. Unless they adopted a Hylian child or brought more cats into the house, Penelope was the only ‘grandchild’ her parents were getting from them. Maybe they won’t care – Vivienne wasn’t their only child to get grandchildren from and she wasn’t inheriting the main estate anyway.

“I hope you know that if we’re ever in your neck of the woods, we’re going to see her. You’re not allowed to hide a cat from me.”

Warriors found himself laughing. “Twilight, I know better than to get between you and an animal.”

Link was grateful that his in-laws didn’t try to parade them around or throw extravagant parties on their behalf that often. Their wedding was mostly just friends and family from both sides and it took place in the Arlet estate garden, so it was out of the view of the public. Vivienne said something about how they were glad she got married at all, so maybe they were afraid to rock the boat too much. Maybe that’s why they didn’t argue when Penelope was introduced as their child.

For their first anniversary, her parents decided once again to forgo something fancy and just gifted the two a bunch of wine that they definitely drank too much of that night because he couldn’t really remember what they did besides drink a lot. He did remember waking up on the bedroom floor with Penelope sleeping on his back. Her parents didn’t leave Penelope out of the celebration either, giving her a bed that she went on to use a lot.

But Link knew that one day, his in-laws would drag him to some sort of function where they would show him off. He was the hero and a noble now.

He couldn’t say he was surprised when his father-in-law showed up at his door unannounced, thankfully when he was actually home, and told him and Vivienne that he was hosting a party and he expected the two of them to be there. Luckily, he already had clothes for the occasion that Vivienne said were nice enough – a gift from his tailoring family when he got married – and he went to fancy dinner parties before as a bodyguard, so at least he wasn’t going in blind.

“Vivienne and Link!” They spent maybe all of five seconds at her father’s before he found them near the entrance. Link wouldn’t have been surprised if he was waiting for them. His father-in-law gestured towards the rest of his estate with a grin on his face. “Link, let me show you around. This is your first time inside the main estate, yes?”

Link looked back at Vivienne. She simply shook her head. They were stuck following his father-in-law around his estate. Link couldn’t tell if it was because he was proud of his estate and actually liked showing it off to people or if it was some clever way to show off Link himself to the guests that were already there. He was certainly recognized as the hero even though his scarf was missing. At least he was used to getting looks from strangers all the time.

But it was made tolerable with Vivienne being close by, offering some sort of comment about what trouble she got into as a kid when her father introduced them to a new wing of the estate. Apparently, she was quite the fan of climbing when she was a child and he could see it in her father’s face that he wasn’t sure if he should have been amused or exasperated by the memories. When her father let them go to hang out and eat in the dining room, the two of them stuck together in a lonely corner of the room, watching and making quiet comments about the other guests. Vivienne knew most of them and had some juicy details to share.

If Link had to summarize the party, he would call it two friends suffering together. He had a decent time but it wasn’t because of anything that was offered at the party – it was spending time with a friend and engaging in gossip.

It made him think of all the people he could have been stuck with, all the people who would want more than he was comfortable with offering or just couldn’t offer at all. He couldn’t reciprocate romantic feelings as he didn’t feel them and the thought of being intimate made him deeply uncomfortable.

But being friends and sharing a space with Vivienne was easy. They were two friends who had to pretend to be more sometimes, but the important part was that they both knew that it was a game.

Warriors frequented taverns and pubs, not just to have a drink or two with those he was close to but because drunk people were a fountain of information. It was less helpful in his own era since people knew who he was and were more guarded around him, but in other eras where people had no idea who he was? They saw no reason to filter their words and they told him all sorts of things. Sometimes it was useful but sometimes he just got sucked into whatever gossip there was and he didn’t learn anything that would help them.

Today, he was at a pub with Sky and Twilight. He didn’t drink with them often, just once or twice in Time’s era when Time dragged them to Castletown. Time was his usual drinking buddy but he seemed pretty tired so he declined his invitation. It was times like those where he truly lived up to his ‘old man’ nickname.

Alcohol didn’t change Twilight that much. His accent was definitely coming out more and he was a bit louder but otherwise, Twilight was acting mostly the same. Sky was quieter after a couple of drinks, like he was contemplating matters of existence. The chosen hero wasn’t the chattiest to begin with but after a few drinks, he didn’t start conversations anymore. He needed to be roped into it.

They were only a few drinks in when a woman slid into the seat beside him with a wide grin on her face. Great, he knew exactly where this was going. Before she could say anything, Warriors held up his hand with his ring on it. “Before you say anything, just know that I’m already taken.”

“Oh, are they here right now?” she asked, her eyes scanning the crowd before her gaze settled on him again. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“I’m not a cheater,” Warriors snapped back. “I’m happy with my wife.”

“Is she happy with you? You’ve got the look of a military man. When’s the last time you’ve gone home to see her? Are you sure she’s been as loyal to you as you are to her?”

Warriors wasn’t sure what her goal was. He never had anyone who wanted to sleep with him insult him and his wife in the span of a minute. Was she mad that he rejected her?

“You don’t know anything. If you’re trying to get me into bed with you, you’re failing miserably,” he said as he stood up. Sky and Twilight caught him and he spotted Twilight fishing out his wallet as Warriors found the shortest route to the exit. He didn’t look back as he headed to the one familiar spot in town and stepped into the room he was sharing with Four and Hyrule. He must have looked a mess because the two took one look at him and stayed away from him for the rest of the night. Just as well, he didn’t feel like talking.

He knew he couldn’t avoid it though. He wasn’t surprised that Sky found him in the morning as Warriors chugged down some water, hoping that the minor ache in his head would disappear if he had more water. At least, Warriors hoped that the minor headache came from alcohol and not because that woman at the bar made him so angry that he had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep.

Though, if he was honest with himself, it wasn’t just the encounter at the bar. His mind raced constantly, dredging up experiences and memories that he wanted to bury and never look at again. Ever since he was asked about his ring, he couldn’t stop thinking about all of the unhelpful and unwarranted advice he got when he was single or all the pity he got when people thought he was stuck in a sad, loveless marriage. Warriors just couldn’t stop thinking about it even when he wanted to or needed to focus on something else.

He hoped they weren’t travelling. He was pretty sure he wasn’t fit for it.

“Why did you storm out of the bar last night? Was it the woman?”

“Of course it was the woman!”

Sky smiled awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his neck. Shit, he shouldn’t have answered his question like that. He wasn’t mad at Sky.

“What did she say that set you off? Twilight and I didn’t really hear it.”

“She wanted me to cheat on my wife and when I rejected her, she start insinuating that my wife was cheating on me and before you ask, I actually do have a wife.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant when you said Legend was on the right track,” he mumbled as he titled his head slightly. “You are actually married, huh?”

“It’s a political marriage. Athena needed extra support from a noble and she got it when I married the noble’s daughter. Through marriage with the hero, that family is now closer than ever to the royal family and in return, Athena has more weight to throw against other nobles.”

“So you didn’t marry for love?” Sky asked with a slight pout on his lips that often came with confusion. Warriors could feel his frustration bubble under his skin but he took a deep breath. It wasn’t Sky’s fault that Warriors had this conversation before with a bunch of other people who didn’t understand that not everybody wants to date or be in a marriage or be intimate.

“I’m actually happy this way. I don’t care if it’s a ‘loveless’ marriage. We both knew what we were getting into before the documents were drawn up and before we were actually married. I made it clear to her the first time we met that I wasn’t interested in sex or romance. It turns out she feels the same way. We’re just roommates who occasionally have to pretend that we are more than just roommates. We share a home, we share a bed that’s so big we barely know there’s somebody else in it, and we share custody of a cat named Penelope. I’m not interested in anything more than that.”

Sky hummed for a moment, then smiled. “Well, if that’s what you want, then that arrangement sounds perfect for both of you. As long as you’re both happy, nobody should get a say about what the two of you do or don’t do together.”

For a moment, Warriors was taken aback. In his experience, it generally took a lot more convincing before somebody backed off and switched topics. He didn’t know why it was so hard to convince people that was actually happy.

“Why didn’t you say this before, though? Everybody would have understood.”

“Because it’s tiring... before I got married, everyone and their grandma would tell me that I just had to meet the right person, then I would want to date and get married and have kids. If I met the right person, I would be ‘normal’. Now that they know this marriage is political more than anything else... they fucking pity me. They think the fact that I didn’t marry for love is something to pity. Some people even tell me I’ll learn to fall in love with my wife. They just can’t fathom that somebody just... doesn’t care about any of that. It’s so tiring. I’m tired of trying to explain it and people looking at me like I’m broken or something. No matter how many times I tell them I’m happy, they just don’t believe me.”

Sky frowned. “Has... this been on your mind for a while? We all noticed that you seemed distracted lately.”

He only nodded. The thoughts probably would have started bothering him at some point, even if nobody asked about his ring. They seem to come and go, more often when he was in town and people tried to talk to him. However, the current cyclical nature of his thoughts was because he was asked about his ring and he had to think about how to answer.

“Do you ever plan on telling the others that you’re married?”

“If we end up nearby, yes.” He did tell Twilight he could meet Penelope and even if he didn’t, the villa would be a nice break for them and their wallets. They were always maintaining guest rooms that didn’t get used so it would be nice if the villa was full of people for once. It was far too large for a family of three and their hired help. “For now, I just need to collect my thoughts.”

Though... it helped that Sky took it so well. Maybe he wouldn’t have to explain it to them more than once. They would probably believe him if he said he was actually happy with his arrangement.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need any help.”

“I will. Thanks, Sky.”

Warriors thought there would be more time between his conversation with Sky and the conversation he knew he needed to have with the others before they set up in the villa for a few days. It was only a couple of weeks after he talked to Sky that a portal took them to a battle and it was when he was wiping the black blood off his blade that he realized that he recognized the castle in the distance. His villa was only about a half an hour from the castle.

“To the castle?” Twilight asked.

“Actually, there’s a place we should go first. Athena can wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh, so this is your era,” Legend said with a nod. “What’s this stop you plan on taking?”

“My place. It’s big enough to fit all of us comfortably.”

Wind raised an eyebrow. “How big is your place?”

“It’s...” Was this how he was going to start explaining who Vivienne was? By explaining why he can comfortably host them all? His gaze met with Sky’s, who gave him an encouraging nod. “It’s a villa. I moved in when I got married.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Legend glared him. “Is that what you meant when you said I was on the right track? You could have just said so! It was bugging me ever since you said it.”

Warriors rolled his eyes. “I didn’t feel like explaining it back then. Even now, it’s a little difficult...” He took a deep breath. “I got married because Athena asked me to. I didn’t pick my wife but it’s pretty convenient for both of us because we are both just happy being friends. If I had to get married to somebody else, I wouldn’t be able to return any romantic feelings and being intimate would be out of the question. We have to put on a show sometimes but that’s a small price to pay to able to say I’m married and not have to do anything I’m uncomfortable with.”

He had no doubt that there were questions but the others simply nodded, except for Sky who offered two thumbs up instead. Maybe they were just saving questions for later but he wasn’t going to complain about the break. They probably cared more about having a roof over their heads than about his odd but convenient marriage.

Wind hummed for a moment before putting a hand on his chin. “So your wife won’t mind if we stay at your place then?”

“I doubt she would care. In fact, she might even be happy that we’re using the guest rooms as guest rooms for once.”

“What are they being used for now?” Time asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Decoration.”

“Wait, this means we get to meet Penelope!”

“Who?”

“His cat!” Twilight answered with a wide grin. “C’mon, butts in gear! We have a cat to meet!”

There were some grumbles but the group started moving, following Warriors as he led them to the villa. It was nearly sunset by the time they got there so he wasted no time in opening the front gate and letting everybody in. He stopped them as soon as they got into the front doors and he couldn’t immediately see her nearby. He didn’t think she would get upset about the villa being used as an inn for a few days, he wanted to give her a little bit of warning.

He found Penelope first in one of their many hallways so he scooped her up and kept looking for Vivienne until he found her in her plant room, which was the room in the villa with the most windows. She was bent over one of the pots trimming the plant inside of it. He cleared his throat to let Vivienne know he was coming in so she didn’t startle and drop the trimmers.

“Oh, you’re home.” She straightened her back and turned around to face him.

“For a bit. If there’s another lead, I’ll have to go again. I have company though!”

“Oh, those heroes you mentioned in the single letter I got?” she asked with a smirk. Warriors winced internally – they were still friends and he should really let her know more often that he was still alive and her father didn’t have to find a new husband for her. “I’m not upset, by the way. I can only imagine that time travel complicates things, to say the least.”

“Yeah. I got busy. I didn’t realize I only sent one letter,” he mumbled as he ran a hand through Penelope’s fur. “But they’re in the lobby if you want to meet them. I told them they could stay here for a few days since we have the room.”

“It would be a shame not to use it. It might be the only time we’ll fill all four guest rooms at the same time. Let’s go show them their rooms, then. My parents didn’t raise me to be a bad host.”

Warriors’ heart pounded in his chest was they walked back to the lobby. He couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. The others would be nice to Vivienne and they knew she was his wife, so there wasn’t anything to hide. Vivienne was generally pretty nice and she got along with the people he was close with before. It should go well but his nerves were still getting the best of him.

Finally, he saw the other heroes, who were all studying Vivienne.

“Wow, she’s tall!” Wind gasped. Vivienne was a bit taller than Time, as it turned out and she wasn’t even wearing shoes. Her entire family was tall – taller than he was – so he wasn’t exactly surprised that she beat them all.

“We’re just kind of short,” Time chimed in, shaking his head.

“This is Vivienne,” Warriors started, gesturing with his free arm, “and this our daughter, Penelope. Vivenne, you already know their names but they’ll introduce themselves with their nicknames sooner or later.”

“Can I hold Penelope?” Twilight asked, arms outstretched.

“Just keep her belly down, she hates being on her back,” he warned as she gently passed her over.

It was a good thing that Penelope enjoyed a lot of attention. Once she was settled in Twilight’s arms, it wasn’t just Twilight who was petting her – half the group was reaching around and crowding Twilight to get a chance to pet her. Warriors could hear her purring over the excited cooing coming from the boys.

“I hope she doesn’t expect that much attention from now on,” Vivienne mumbled before she turned to the others. “I know Penelope is amazing but I should show you to your rooms. Penelope doesn’t leave the house, she’ll be around for more petting later. She may even pick one your rooms to spend the night in later.”

“We’ll be back,” Twilight said quietly as he pet her on the head one more time and set her down on the floor. Warriors watched as everybody followed her, looking around the villa as they did so. Penelope purred and rubbed her head on his leg so he picked her up once again.

“That went well,” he mumbled as he looked down at her giant green eyes. “Especially for you.”

She meowed.

“Yeah, you are spoiled. You deserve it, though.”

Instead of following everybody to the guest rooms, he headed towards the master bedroom to change into something more comfortable. He set Penelope down on their bed – neither he nor Vivienne cared if Penelope got her fur all over it – and slowly stripped off all of his equipment and gear, dropping everything on the floor by his side of the bed to deal with later.

One loose shirt and clean pair of trousers later, he left the master bedroom to find that everybody was gathered at the kitchen table that he and Vivienne usually used for their own dinners. The only person not at the table was Wild, who was poking around in the oven to warm it up. There was a more official dining room in the villa but they only used that one when Vivienne had family over and it had one of those long dining tables that made Warriors wonder if anybody actually wanted to eat together. The table in the kitchen was a little small for the size of the group but they were all used to butting into each other’s space all the time.

Warriors decided to stay on the periphery of the conversations, joining only when their conversations were directed at him. He wanted his brothers and his wife to get along, so he wasn’t going to intrude when it seemed like they were actually bonding. Vivienne was relaxed, talking to the group in the same way she spoke to him or the few times he saw she had a couple of the neighbours over for some tea. It was also the same way she spoke to Clarissa, as the two of them became friends pretty quickly. She spoke more formally with some of her family members than she did with the other heroes.

As for the heroes, they were behaving as he expected – they were asking Vivienne for embarrassing stories about him. Oh, well. If that was the price of peace, he would let it slide. It wasn’t like she had a lot on him in particular.

Once they all had dinner and tea, the group of heroes all headed to their rooms, except for Sky. He helped himself to the last of the tea in pot and started to headed to his assigned room but he made sure that he passed Warriors.

“You did a good job today,” he said quietly, adding a small but sincere smile before leaving.

Once he was gone, Vivienne tapped him on the shoulder. “He’s right, you did a good job. I know it’s not easy to tell people we’re married,” she started before gesturing toward their own bedroom, “but we should go to get some rest too if we’re hosting this many people.”

“They can be a handful,” Warriors mumbled. “I’m sure Penelope is waiting for us anyway. Let’s go.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu fanfic #my writing #linked universe fanfic #lu warriors #lu sky #lu twilight #lu legend #the rest are there but they don't do much #acephobia #tagging just in case #catreginae: one shots #original character #warriors is in an arranged marriage #warriors is in a marriage of convenience #queered into oblivion

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leilani-lily · 9 months ago

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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 4)

Should I have divided this chapter up into two parts? Yes. Am I going to? no~ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I promise not all chapters are going to be this long. I just... kept typing ◉‿◉ Anyways hope you enjoy! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. Finally admitting you're a fan of his show, Alastor invites you up to his radio tower. Shenanigans ensue as your bond grows. Word Count: 4.1 K Chapter under the cut! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You honestly hadn’t expected your morning coffee with Alastor to become routine, yet the Radio Demon always seemed to pop in right on time; mug in hand and grin on his face. You weren’t complaining though, it was nice to have company while the rest of the hotel was fast asleep. Plus you felt a little flattered that a demon apparently so powerful and well known seemingly wanted to spend time with you. Sometimes Alastor would even stay as you would begin cooking breakfast, either continuing to chat happily or just sit in peaceful silence. He would watch you cook, sipping his coffee as the radio played softly in the background. As much as you hated the early mornings, you were slowly finding they were becoming your favourite part of the day.

You’d chat about various things; music, food, likes and dislikes. Sometimes you’d even gossip about the shenanigans that happened at the hotel. You couldn’t help but giggle at the way his eyes would light up and grin widened when you brought up another guest at the hotel. The amount of sass and zero fucks this lanky demon posessed had entertained you more than you wanted to admit. Alastor was quite the gossiper, which you never would have guessed. But given his radio broadcasts were him ‘spilling the tea’ on the going’s on in Hell, it honestly made sense.

“Oh Alastor, I forgot to mention,” you began, your back turned to him as you busily whisked some eggs for today’s omelet, “I really enjoyed your program the other day in particular; your views on the Vee’s ‘love potion’ was really interesting.”

Unbeknownst to you, Alastor perked up from his cup, his eye’s blinking in surprise. “Y/n dearest,” he paused, tilting his head, “do you mean to tell me that you listen to my show?”

You felt your cheeks go red with embarrassment, not daring to turn around to look at him. You had meant to tell him when you first realized who he was, but it was honestly humiliating to admit. Before you had even begun to work for the hotel, you had been a fan of Alastor’s radio show. You often listened to it in the background on your trusty CD machine back when you lived alone. It was a nice way to fill the silence, plus you found his views and stories compelling. You could feel the tall demon’s eyes burning into the back of your head, the silence deafening.

“Y-yeah actually, I do.” You stammered, still not facing him, “I’ve tuned in for a couple years now, and-!”

“Why y/n my dear~!”

His voice sounded chillingly closer, making you turn around in confusion. Sure enough Alastor was towering over you, only a mere inches away from you as he smiled brightly. You nearly dropped your bowl of eggs in shock, Alastor paying you no mind as he leaned in closer.

“Now why wouldn’t you tell me this sooner? Something this important should have been mentioned earlier!”

Clutching your poor racing heart, you put your bowl and whisk down and take a moment to look up at the demon before you. His smile was ear to ear and eye’s dancing as he looked at you. He actually looked almost giddy at the news. It helped to ease your nerves in admitting the truth.

“Well, I wanted to!” you chuckled, eyes looking away from him, now nervous due to the proximity of the demon, “But I didn’t want you to think I was some stalker or creep when I first got here, so I kept it to myself!”

Alastor’s grin shifted into a closed smile, leaning away from you and looking off to the distance. “Hmm yes I can see your point. As much as I love meeting a fan, sometimes they can be rather… assertive, given the realm in which we live in.” His eye twitched in annoyance for a moment before his gaze flitted back to you.

“Nevertheless~!” He declared, his previous excitement coming back, “This is still information I wished I had known sooner! No one else at this establishment has expressed such interest, so it’s rather refreshing to have a confidante intrigued in such matters.” His eyes suddenly widened, and his grin slowly began to creep up further on his face. Without warning, he quickly began to walk away, heading towards the door. You watch him start to leave, confused but his sudden desire to depart.

“As you know, my next broadcast will be at 9 am sharp. When you are finished with your duties, you simply must come up to my radio tower.”

You felt yourself straighten up in surprise, eyes widening in disbelief. No way. Was he serious?? Your fingers twitched in excitement, not wanting to get your hopes up but secretly dying to go.

“Are… Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to intrude or anything-!”

Alastor flicked a hand up, silencing you immediately. As he approached the door frame, he turned his body to look back at you, half lidded and smiling mischievously. “I expect to see you outside my room at 8:30. Don’t.” his eyes flashed, smile tightening for a moment, “Be late.” And before you could say another word, his body sinked into the shadows and scurried off, leaving you alone and stunned.

You had whisked through breakfast quickly that morning, your excitement barely containable. You felt a little starstruck; Alastor had invited you to his studio. And he was going to let you listen to his broadcast in person! Your brain raced with questions about how it all worked, what it looked like, how he chose his topics. Before you knew it, time had flown by and you were standing in front of Alastor’s door, heart pumping and practically bouncing from foot to foot. With a quick breath, you give a knock.

It wasn’t long before Alastor opened up, his eyes looking at a pocket-watch in his hand before they slid to look at you. His eyebrows raised up slightly in amusement.

“8:29. I’m impressed~” He grinned, his fingers snapping the watch closed before tucking it away in his jacket. You gave a small nod of acknowledgement, pleased with his approval. Without another word, he turned and walked back into his room, the door swinging open further as a silent invitation. After some hesitation, you followed suit, letting your eyes wander as you inspected his livingspace.

The furnishings looked just how you expected. Deep mahogany wood with golden accents, a bookshelf filled with multiple tomes, and a desk scattered with paperwork. There was a beautiful marble fireplace glowing an eerie green hue with two velvet chairs in front, and various candles helpt to light the room. There was a beautiful vintage canopy bed with dark red curtains and very soft looking blankets. You were intrigued by the various skeletal decorations of various animals; antlers, skulls, and even the full anatomy of an alligator.

But honestly, what had caught your attention the most was the magical glow of the bayou that seemed to just expand from nowhere. His room opened up to this expanse of wetlands that seemed to just go on forever. The soft chirping of crickets could be heard in the distance, as well as the bellow of the occasional toad. You stepped from the hardwood into soft dewy grass, your breath hitching in wonder as fireflies flickered by. You reached out a hand as one softly fluttered to your fingers, a soft laugh escaping your lips as it landed and tickled your skin.

“Mesmerizing, isn’t it~?” Alastor stepped up from behind to stand beside you. Your head turned to him as he looked out at the marsh, a fond expression on his face. “Certainly a peaceful sanctuary to escape to when one grows tired of the chaos that is the city.”

“It’s incredible,” you breathed, watching the firefly on your hand eventually takeoff and soar out of sight. You had never felt so at ease in all your years in Hell. It almost made you a little weepy, the gentle reminder of what nature was like before you dropped down to Hell. You didn’t even realize you were walking further into the wetlands until you felt a hand on your shoulder, stopping you from continuing forward.

“Now now y/n,” Alastor’s voice pulled you back to reality as you turned back to him. He cocked an eyebrow in amusement. “Another time, my dear. I’ve got a radio show to run; we mustn't be late.” You felt your heart sink in disappointment, but you knew he was right. Besides, you still really want to see where he worked, despite being enchanted by this mysterious wetland. Looking out at the magical bayou one last time, you walk back with Alastor into his actual room.

The Radio Demon walked up to a closed door to the right and prepared to open it for you like the gentleman that he is. As you stood before the entrance, you could feel yourself getting excited over what was on the other side. What did it look like? What sort of equipment did he use? How many other demons have seen his workspace? The excitement was almost unbearable as he swung the door open, your bright hopeful eyes suddenly widening in fear as a gust of wind hit your face.

You looked out to the expanse of Hell, a thin rusty bridge leading from the outside of the building to his tower. As the wind bellowed, you could hear the creaking of metal as the tower gripped rather precariously to the side of the hotel. Your eyes dared to peek down, feeling your knees begin to quake at the height of which the drop was if you were to fall. You remained frozen in place as Alastor stepped in front of you, walking along the narrow path without a care in the world. As he approached the ladder at the end, he turned back to you and tilted his head to the side, as if confused by your hesitation.

“Alastor,” you stammer, your hands gripping the edge of the doorway, “I would rather sell my soul for a corn chip than walk out on this sad excuse of a bridge.” The tall demon raised an eyebrow at you mischievously.

“Don’t tempt me y/n dearest.” he smirked, his neck almost snapping as his eyes flashed red for a moment. You ignored his threat, too distracted by the fear gripping your heart as you looked down. Alastor watched you amusingly for a moment before finally rolling his eyes and walking back towards you. He shook his head and tutted to himself, as if dealing with a child.

“Come now, we mustn't dawdle,” he chirped, reaching a hand out for you and finally making you lock eyes with him. Though you knew he sounded condescending, there was a certain gentleness in his smile as he bent down lower, his hooded eyes not at all holding any malice. It was odd; you knew what atrocities this demon was capable of doing, yet in this moment, you felt like you could really trust him to keep you safe. After what felt like hours, your own shaky hand finally reached out and gently fell in his outstretched palm.

His hand tight around your own, he began to walk backwards and guided you forward. Your legs took small trembly steps as your other hand gripped the rails like a vice. You felt like you wanted to puke when you approached the halfway point, but Alastors grip on you was strong and secure, and helped to ease your fears. You were grateful that he never turned his back to you, continuing to step backwards as his eyes remained locked on yours; it helped you to focus on him and not look down. You knew he could’ve done many things to upset you; teased you, tricked you, edged you on. But he was surprisingly tender the whole way, and your heart warmed for a moment. His mother did an excellent job raising such a refined man.

Finally reaching the other side, you let go of his hand and practically threw yourself at the ladder Alastor chuckled at your dramatics as you took deep calming breaths. Finally settling your racing heart, you look up at the lookout above and begin to climb. You managed to hoist yourself up through the hatch, standing up straight and finally getting a good look at the workspace.

The tower had windows all around, giving you a magnificent view of Hell. There was a huge heavy desk in front of you filled with various equipment; turntables, microphones, wires, and a giant control panel at the center of it all. It was filled with various switches and dials and flashing lights, all seemingly able to control different things. There was a single large chair in front of the desk, as well as a round side table with a simple lamp and a tray of whiskey and cups. Vines hung from the top of the ceiling while cattails seemed to grow from the floorboards.

“Welcome to where the magic happens!” Alastor cheered behind you, stepping forward and gesturing to the space. “I made it very clear to Miss Morningstar that if I were to help at the hotel, I would require a private space to conduct my work.”

“The foundation is… unsettling.” you remark, knocking on the glass panel beside you as the tower groaned in the wind. Alastor quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

“But I’ll admit, the view is fantastic.” You sighed approvingly, staring out and watching the city bustle below, red skies dusted with soft clouds. You never thought you’d admit this, but Hell had a certain beauty to it. You admire the landscape for a while longer before turning back, realizing Alastor had been watching you the whole time. He spoke up before you could think anything of it.

“Well my dear, I do believe it’s almost time for the broadcast to start,” he immediately turned to go sit in his chair, waving a hand in the air as his microphone appeared. “I suggest you get comfortable.” With a snap of his fingers, a velvety red armchair poofed beside you near the small side table. You smiled at his thoughtfulness, realizing there weren’t many places to sit otherwise. You settled down into the soft chair, your heart beginning to race in excitement.

“And in case it isn’t obvious,” he continued, “I would advise you to remain quiet while I’m on the air. Can’t have any outside noises interfering with the audio now can we~?” He turned back to you for confirmation, a serious and almost threatening look crossing his face. You give an excited nod, pursing your lips tightly together and not realizing your body was swaying side to side eagerly. Alastor’s expression softened ever so slightly.

“Good girl~” he praised, turning back to the desk and flicking some switches, preparing the transmission. Alastor paused for a moment, quickly clearing his throat before pressing a final button. A bright red light on the console flickered on, and before you knew it, Alastor began to speak.

“Salutations my wayward souls, and welcome back to the show!” He smiled, speaking so eloquently into the microphone. “Today’s broadcast is an extra special one as one of my good friends is here with me. And in honor of that, I’ve decided to dedicate this particular topic just for her~!”

You felt your heart melt with warmth at his words. He considered you a good friend? AND he was dedicating this show to you?? You almost wanted to weep, you were so touched. You were practically on the edge of your seat, ready to hear what today’s focus would be.

“So, without further ado~” Alastor teased, turning his body so you could see his profile. He looked at you and you waited with baited breath.

“This segment is called ‘Cooking with Cannibals! How to Properly Mince a Man to Avoid Choking~!”

…………….

This.

Fucking.

Asshole.

Alastor watched you giddily as your smile slowly fell into an angry pout, his own mouth rising into a shit-eating grin. You had never seen him so gleeful until this very moment. You were about to yell at him when his free hand rose, pressing his index finger against his teeth in a shushing motion. Your eyes flickered from the red beacon flashing, then back to him, his grin growing even wider, if possible.

Oh mother-fucker.

You slouched into your chair, sulking and shooting him daggers as you flipped him off. Alastor’s face wrinkled in pure delight as he turned back in his chair, continuing the show as if nothing had happened.

The shithead continued to talk for half an hour about different chopping techniques, which parts of the body had the most bones and what to avoid, and even went over how to perform the ‘Heimlich maneuver’ in case choking was inevitable. As furious as you were, you had to admit, it was a little funny. Plus, you couldn’t sulk for long as you watched him work. His voice was so soothing; the rhythm in which he spoke had a certain pattern that captured you. He also spoke with such ease and confidence, it was hard not to marvel at how he could speak to millions of listeners and not even break a sweat. You had to hold back a laugh at the way he gestured while talking, subconsciously acting to the audience even though they couldn’t see him.

You could tell the Radio Demon was wrapping up, giving his final thoughts and farewells before he finally reached over and pressed the button again. The red light stopped flickering, and the room fell silent as Alastor sat for a moment, back facing you. Finally, he swiveled the chair around and focused on you, smiling proudly and crossing his legs.

“So my dear!” he beamed, his eyes calculating as he looked at you, “What did you think~?” Your eyes squinted into thin lines.

“You’re a real prick, you know that right?”

Alastor immediately bent over in laughter, shoulders shaking with joy as his laughter track played in the background. You continued to glare at him, arms crossed as he reveled in the fun. He rotated from trying to recover, to looking up at your pissy face, to snorting again and laughing even harder. The more he laughed, the more you had to bite back your own smile. Finally, the tall demon managed to catch his breath and straightened his back.

“Ohhh my dear,” he chuckled, wiping a stray tear from his eye, “You honestly cannot blame me; you make it too easy to tease you.” He leaned in closer to you, eyes practically dancing in delight. You stare at him a moment longer before finally cracking a smile and shaking your head.

And this is why you didn’t tell people how you died.

“Ok, well, despite being completely roasted for about half an hour,” you sneered; Alastor cast you a wicked grin, “it honestly was a good show. Your segment’s flowed really well together, the jokes you threw in were witty, and it was obvious you had done your research.” You looked up to him and smiled warmly. “I really enjoyed watching you work, Alastor.”

Alastors face didn’t waver as he looked at you, his eyes scanning you in thought. For a moment you couldn’t tell what was running through the demon's brain. But then, one of his ears flicked ever so slightly, and in a moment you knew. You had come to realize that was something he did when he was secretly happy, but didn’t want anyone to know. You had to physically stop your grin from widening at his reaction, you would never dare reveal the little quirk to him. He leaned back in his chair and hummed, playing off his secret pride.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it was to your liking,” he mused, his eyes soft as he looked at you. There was a gentle pause as you both watched each other before his eyes widened in delight, an idea popping into his head. Immediately, the lanky demon stood up and extended a hand to you.

“Come! Let me show you how everything works.”

For the next couple minutes, Alastor presented all his equipment to you, explaining what each thing did and how it worked. You ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ as if it was show-and-tell, asking many questions and showing genuine interest. He was quite pleased to answer, clearly happy to boast and prove how smart he was. As time ticked on, you realized that you had to get back to the kitchen to start making lunch, and Alastor gave a nod of acknowledgement. With a snap of his fingers, you had both transported back into the kitchen.

“WAIT!” you gasped, looking to him in horror as you realized where you were. “Are you telling me you could have ‘poofed’ us into the tower and I DIDN’T have to risk my life on that sketchy-ass bridge?!”

Alastor looked at you a moment before his lips curled up into a mischievous grin.

“ALASTOR!!” you roared, a laugh escaping your throat as you looked up at him in disbelief. The Radio Demon couldn’t help it as he snickered. He had got you. Again. All you could do was stare at him dumbly, not sure whether to be angry or ashamed or even impressed.

“Ohohooo~ I suppose that’s enough teasing for one day.” Alastor sighed, straightening out his jacket and tie. “Don’t you worry my dear, the next time you come up I’ll be sure to teleport you straight into the tower. No more high wire acts~”

Wait… did you hear him correctly?

“ ‘Next time’… ?” you echoed, not wanting to sound too hopeful. Alastor finally looked at you and blinked, giving you an obvious look.

“For my next broadcast! I figure if you’re listening anyways, you might as well hear it right from the source~!” he proclaimed, saying it matter-of-factly. Your eyes widened at the offer.

“Do… do you really mean that?” You couldn’t help it, it was too good of an offer. And for free at that. You knew it was rare for the Radio Demon to offer something without anything in return. Now it was Alastors turn to give you a confused look, tilting his head at you as if there was any doubt.

“My dear,” he began, his arms crossed behind his back and turning to face you fully, “I insist~! I’ll admit, I would be lying to myself if I said I didn’t enjoy your company today; having you around was thoroughly entertaining.” the demon wore his shit eating grin as he reminisced all the funny moments. But the way he looked at you, you could tell there was a hint of sincerity in his words, even if he expressed it in an insouciant way.

“Besides,” Alastor continued, “Since you’ve been a fan for so long, it might be nice to get a listener's perspective on how to make my segments even better. A fresh perspective from someone I can trust.” his eyes held your gaze, making you feel as if he was looking straight into your soul.

You knew he was trying to sound logical and strategic, but his true intentions were peeking through. He really did seem to actually like you, despite all his razzing. And you had to admit, this morning had been so much fun; even with the teasing that came with it. If being friends with Alastor meant a little prodding along the way, then it was well worth it for the excitement and joy he brought into your previously boring life. You took a breath and smiled at him, eyes crinkling in delight.

“Thank you Alastor, I’d love to sit in again with you, work permitting that is,” You smile sheepishly and gesture to the kitchen, realizing you still had a job to do and couldn’t spend all your time with him. But that was enough to satisfy the Radio Demon. With a content grin, Alastor suddenly took one of your hands and bowed at his waist, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I look forward to it dearest~”

Your heart lurched as he closed his eyes and lifted your hand up, pressing the back of it to his forehead. You could almost feel a soft burning against your skin from the spot in which the X marked his temple. Knowing that was a very sensitive spot for him, this somehow felt very intimate. You knew he was just being a gentleman, but still, you couldn’t help the flush growing on your cheeks. His grip on you tightened a moment before he finally pulled away, letting your fingers slip away from his before stepping back. Giving you one last look, the Radio Demon turned around and glided out of the kitchen.

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

Imma take a couple day's break cause hoo wee that was a lot. ε-(´・｀) But thank you for reading thus-far! Please feel free to reblog and comment below; your words help to fuel me ( ≖‿ ≖ )

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

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