#duvalie x reader

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact/GFL/ToCS) Eula, Lumine, Jean, Sara, Lisa, AK-15, AK-12, Duvalie, and Sharon makeout HC's

I'd find a better way to segue into why I'm writing this, but I'll just keep it real with ya'll:

NSFT Implications (obviously)

Eula had not gotten a moment alone with S/O in quite some time. They were both busy, but this transgression would not be forgiven so easily.

What starts off as a simple few kisses slowly turns into something more passionate.

Eula's grip on her S/O starts to tighten as she wraps her hands around their waist and drags them closer.

She makes no mention of her increased heartrate or flushed face, focusing on only S/O's lips.

Pulling back for a moment so they can catch their breaths, she holds their face with both her hands for a brief moment.

(Eula) "You'll not escape this act of revenge, S/O."

She crashes her lips back into theirs far more forcefully as the two tilt their heads to a more comfortable angle.

And when she feels their tongue brush across her mouth, Eula's own tongue meets S/O's.

Although it's not obvious, Eula feels terribly shy throughout their kissing. Hopefully, she didn't come across too strong, but they've made no mention of it so far.

Her worries go unvoiced as the two lay onto the couch and resume their kissing as they hold onto one another.

Lumine happily gave a quick peck to S/O's lips as soon as she returned home.

The two giggled before S/O returned her kiss with another one.

And then another.

Paimon, receiving a quite yucky premonition, decided it'd be best for her to haul ass at her earliest convenience out of the room.

Lumine quickly locked the bedroom door behind her and resumed pressing her mouth into her S/O's, their giggles being replaced with more intense breathing.

(Lumine) "Come closer, please..."

Lumine's arms wrapped around S/O's neck due to her being shorter but had the strength to keep pulling them into her.

Her eyes stay shut and focuses solely on the feeling of S/O's taste as she pushes them gently against the wall.

Her arms slowly slide down to S/O's hands as she makes them hold her even tighter.

Lumine had originally planned to tell S/O how much she missed them, but this probably did the job better than her words.

Sara went stiff upon feeling S/O kiss her cheek.

Her hand instinctively reached the spot they kissed as she began to blush.

S/O kissed her again, this time on the lips and far more slowly, which Sara closed her eyes for.

She felt very strange, not knowing what to do and how to deal with these feelings boiling inside of her. She wasn't used to being so...vulnerable.

When S/O tried to pull away, Sara leaned further in and let the kiss continue for longer. She only pulled away for a second before going in for the kiss again, brushing her hair out the way.

Sara put both her knees around S/O's waist as her hands sat on their shoulders, going for a deeper kiss.

She had no idea what was overtaking her, all Sara knew is that she wanted more.

S/O opened their mouth to say something, but Sara put a finger on her lips before they could.

(Sara) "Don't...Don't say anything. Just stay like this..."

She was never great with her words anyway, it was her actions that did the speaking.

And though her lips were moving, she said not a word after that.

Jean's heart began to pound the moment S/O's hand rested upon her face.

She wasn't quite sure what to do until S/O went in for a kiss. She'd have been more shy, but thankfully, they were at home. Which meant some of her anxiety wasn't present.

Jean didn't resist when S/O continued to kiss her, even when they gently pushed her down further into the couch, she didn't protest.

S/O's kisses were beginning to make her mind blank, and only when she involuntarily moaned into S/O's mouth did she quickly jolt up.

(Jean) "i-I apologize. Did I make things...Um...-"

She was cut off with S/O kissing her again, but when she felt her hands squeezed in reassurance, all her doubts soared away.

Jean let S/O take the lead, slowly getting louder and louder.

She curled her fingers around S/O's, both of them holding onto each other's hands as their tongues explored every crevice of their mouths.

Lisa at first wanted to tease S/O with a slightly longer kiss to see their reaction.

When she saw them lean after her as she tried to pull away, Lisa couldn't help but giggle.

In fact, it got her excited. A dangerous shine in her eyes and a quick lick of her lips was all it took for S/O to shudder.

Lisa's gloved hands grabbed S/O's face as she had them straddle her on the chair.

S/O sucked on her tongue as her hands explored their lower back and reaching under their shirt.

When Lisa felt S/O's hands reach her chest, her fingers jolted them with the tiniest amount of electro, making them yelp.

(Lisa) "My, my. Getting greedy, aren't we? Well, that's not an issue, really.~"

Now, Lisa began taking their tongue into her lips and had them moan deliciously into her own mouth. Every time she used her electro vision to make them louder, she held them even tighter.

If they made this much noise when kissing, then it was going to be a fun night.

Truthfully, 15 had no earthly idea of what she was doing.

She was familiar with kissing, but the way S/O was doing it was far longer and more...strange.

She felt S/O push into her, leaving her wide eyed and mostly confused.

15 didn't hate the feeling, or at least it certainly didn't feel like she did. She just had no idea how to respond.

(AK-15) "Is there something I should be doing in return, S/O?...Kiss back? A-Affirmative."

15 then attempted to kiss back with the same force, but it seemed like S/O was taken by surprise as she suddenly lifted them off the ground and against the wall as she did so.

15 knew this wasn't correct, but S/O increased their kissing in response. Maybe they liked this? Humans were so strange.

And yet...she couldn't resist either. 15 closed her eyes to make S/O more comfortable and followed their lead. They seemed more experienced in this field after all.

12's smug grin seemed to grow when she felt S/O hug her from behind.

She quickly grabbed S/O and pulled them in front of her, their faces inches away from each other.

12 then felt S/O's plush lips against hers, which she hummed in approval as she pushed back.

12's moaned into S/O as her weight slowly pushed into their chest.

Her hands cheekily groped their butt, which made S/O gasp and flush with embarassment.

(AK-12) "Hm? Is something the matter? I figured you'd like that."

Not giving them a chance to respond, her hands continued to hold tightly onto S/O's rear as she began kissing their neck.

12 did like the kissing, but she enjoyed hearing what noises S/O made even more.

Duvalie sighed with a pout as she averted her gaze, allowing S/O to give her a smooch.

She mumbled something under her breath when S/O asked if they could do so again, but made no moves to stop them.

By the fourth time, she had turned to meet their lips and had her eyes closed.

By the sixth time, their kiss was lasting about thirty seconds as her pouty demanour faded.

Now, by the ninth time, her hands were on their back as she put the side of her head against their chest.

(Duvalie) "...Just a few more, got it?"

When S/O gently raised her off the ground and had their hands on her waist, she seemed to completely forgot what she had said.

Duvalie had her hands push their head closer as her tongue wrapped around theirs.

She tried her best to stifle the whimpers coming out of her, but after a few minutes of this wonderful feeling of love, she didn't care anymore.

All she wanted was to feel S/O's love that moment.

Sharon's signature smile didn't budge as S/O kissed her hand. She tilted her head expectedly, waiting for S/O to make another move.

Taking the cue, S/O then kissed Sharon on the lips, to which she kissed back and delicately held both their hands with hers.

Sharon intensified the kiss after a few moments and waited for S/O to take another step.

And she was very pleased when she felt S/O lean in more, their kiss slowly growing more needy.

When S/O pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected their lips, with S/O shyly wiping it off with a free hand.

Sharon took that free hand, and seductively put their index finger into her mouth and sucked it for a moment.

Giggling at their flustered reaction, she pulled their hand out and smirked.

(Sharon) "Are you satisfied with just a kiss? Because I do not believe I am, S/O."

Finally seeing she had their consent, Sharon took the next step herself by having her hands slip up to S/O's back.

Sharon sucked on their neck as her thumb gently entered the side of their mouth and pulled out their tongue.

She swallowed their mouth as her strength lifted them off the ground and into the nearby bed.

Sharon had a mind to taste more than their tongue tonight.

[popamolly]

‘ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL ’ ALASTOR

summary. a bit heartbroken by last night’s events, you tried to move forward and entertain more suitors, a string still pulling on your heart since it was hard to forget alastor.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

warnings. human!alastor x fem!reader, eventual smut, mature themes, age gap! youre 20 while alastor is in his early 30s, alastor is a serial killer, alastor stalks you, dark romance, angst, gore, death, blood kink, not a happy ending

author’s note. thank you for all the love this story is getting!

The next morning arrived with the sunlight streaming through the window and painting the room in a soft warm glow. You stirred awake from a restless sleep, the events of the previous night hung heavy in the air but before you could get lost in your thoughts a gentle knock on the door interrupted your thoughts, and your mother entered with a tray of your favorite breakfast.

"Good morning," she greeted sharply, setting the tray on the bedside table.

The atmosphere in the room felt charged with tension and you felt as though if you made a sudden move you might die from the suffocation of it all. Your mother's stern expression hinted at the lingering disapproval from the night before. As she sat down, her eyes bore into yours, her words measured and direct.

"I hope you've had a chance to reflect on your behavior last night. Venturing into such places is unbecoming of a lady, especially a Duvalier, I will not have you tarnishing your father's name." she chided, her tone laced with disapproval.

Your attempts to explain were met with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Enough. We won't dwell on the mistakes of yesterday. However, I must insist that you put this Alastor nonsense out of your mind."

The mention of Alastor brought a rush of emotions that you had to swallow down. Now your mother’s instructions became more of a command rather than a suggestion. Though when have her words ever been a suggestion.

"Forget about him, my dear. You need to focus on the suitors who are genuinely interested in you. Now, get dressed. We have guests arriving and you must present yourself with grace and composure," she instructed sharply.

The weight of your mother's insistence felt like shackles but you complied, suppressing your emotions. As you prepared for the day, the memories of the jazz club and Alastor were pushed to the back of your mind, replaced by the formalities and expectations you were to upheld.

The morning, which had begun with the soft glow of sunlight, now unfolded in a harsh contrast. As you descended the grand staircase to meet the suitors, a silent determination set in.

The night before had been replaced by the reality of the courting season, and in this world of scripted dances and polished conversations, the echoes of the jazz club was nothing but a forbidden memory.

"And your favorite hobby?" The man next to you asked as you both walked along the side of the riverbank with your mother in tow behind you as a chaperone.

"Cooking, sewing, cleaning..." You listed everything your mother practiced you to say since you were sixteen with a bored expression, "It's hard to choose really. Especially when my new hobby would be doing all those things and taking care of man who can't take care of himself."

The gentleman's expression shifted from mild curiosity to genuine offense as your response veered off the expected path for traditional domestic roles. He struggled to conceal his surprise, his facial features contorting into disbelief.

"Taking care of a man who can't take care of himself?" he repeated, his tone carrying a touch of annoyance. "Well, I must say, I wasn't expecting such... candidness. A woman's role is to support and enhance her husband's life, not to suggest he's incapable."

Your mother, who had been following as a discreet chaperone, discreetly cleared her throat, offering a subtle reminder of the expected decorum during such conversations. The gentleman, however, appeared unamused by your deviation from the conventional script.

"I believe in partnership and mutual support," you continued, maintaining your composure despite the tension in the air. "In my view, a successful marriage is built on shared responsibilities and understanding, don't you think so? Or is your brain too small minded?"

The gentleman's offense transformed into outright displeasure, and his face reddened with anger. He took a step back, as if distancing himself from the perceived audacity of your words.

"I never expected such impertinence," he huffed, his voice dripping with disdain before turning to your mother. "If this is the kind of woman your daughter has become, madam, perhaps a lesson in decorum is in order."

Your mother, taken aback by the abrupt turn of events, attempted to diffuse the tension. "I assure you, she is a capable and respectful young woman."

The gentleman scoffed, "Respectful? A woman's place is to support her husband, not challenge societal norms. If you want to see your daughter married perhaps you should tape her mouth first."

With those final words, he turned on his heel, storming off along the riverbank, leaving an air of tension in his wake. Your mother, left momentarily speechless, could only watch as he disappeared from view.

Your mother, though caught off guard by the gentleman's departure, turned her attention towards you with a stern expression, the air thick with disapproval.

"I cannot believe you would speak so boldly, especially to such a promising young man. Do you even know who his father is?" she scolded, her voice low. "You'd be lucky if he doesn't spread a rumor about you and your outspoken views, who will marry you then?"

You bit your lip, a mix of frustration and defiance bubbling within you. The stifling expectations of the season seemed to constrict, and the encounter had exposed the deep-seated clash between tradition and your desire for an equal partnership.

"But Mother, I only spoke the truth. I want a marriage built on partnership," you argued, your voice carrying a hint of rebellion, "I want love."

Your mother's gaze remained unwavering, and she sighed in exasperation. "Love? My dearest child, it was one night of sweet nothings you must forget that man. You must understand that your words have consequences, and you must learn to navigate these social situations with more finesse."

The scolding continued, a lecture on the importance of being a mere trophy without thoughts. As the words from your mother lingered, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment. The courting season proved to be more of a challenge than you had anticipated.

The journey back home was quiet, the echoes of the encounters with potential suitors lingering in the air. Your grand estate, once a symbol of opulence and refinement, now felt like a gilded cage . A cage that you unfortunately had to be stuck in for the rest of your life.

As you and your mother entered the stately home, servants helped you take your coats off at the door. Tonight had only proved that the majority of suitors were mostly ignorant and entitled. Men who expected the traditional gender roles only stifled your desire for a more equal partnership.

You follow your mother into drawing-room where tea awaited, sitting down on one of the elegant couches after pouring yourself a cup. You mentally prepared yourself as your mother sat across from you, dropping two sugar cubes into her own teacup with a discerning gaze, ready address the events of the afternoon.

"Do you understand that I want only the best for you? It is hard but you must find content with your situation, as I did. The suitors today were from respected families, and their opinions carry weight in our social circles," she advised, her tone a mix of caution and motherly concern, "Don't be foolish to throw this all way because you want a fairytale marriage."

You sighed, feeling her slowly start to crush your spirit. "Mother, I cannot fake enthusiasm for these men. I want a marriage based on love and mutual respect, is that so bad?"

Your mother's expression hardened, a sign of her struggle between the desire for your happiness and keeping your father's legacy alive. "The world we live in demands certain sacrifices for the sake of reputation."

The conversation continued, a delicate dance between generations, aspirations, and tradition. The walls of the grand estate seemed to close in, threatening suffocate every ounce of a dream you had left.

"We will talk more about this later, now go and freshen up for dinner." Your mother turns from you to get the daily mail that sat onto a silver plater one of our servants held. Her thoughts now occupied with whatever was in those letters addressed to her.

The mention of dinner provided you temporary relief, a chance to gather your thoughts in the privacy of your room.

As you reached the upper landing and walked down the corridor towards your room, a familiar sense of fatigue settled in. The idea of facing another evening filled with polite conversation and forced smiles only wished to drain you more than you already were. With a sigh, you opened the door to your room, hoping to somehow muster enough strength to make through dinner with your mother.

Upon entering, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun. The space offered little comfort compared to the storm brewing within your mind. You moved towards the patio doors, intending to draw the heavy curtains and shut out the world for a brief moment.

However, as you approached the doors, a gasp caught in your throat. There, at the patio, stood Alastor, his tan skin bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. He held a bouquet of flowers in hand, with that grin that would be bone-chilling if you were in another world.

Had he climbed up to your patio? Your heart skipped a beat, startled by his unexpected presence. Alastor turned, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that mirrored the electrifying encounter at the jazz club.

"Forgive the intrusion," Alastor spoke, a charming smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you again, (Y/N).”

You found yourself at a loss for words, the sight of him standing there, outside your room, both thrilling and a little scary. The flowers he held seemed to highlight the spontaneity of the night that had captured your heart.

As you stood there, Alastor's gaze held a question, an unspoken invitation to step into the realm of the unexpected once more. You couldn’t, you thought, you shouldn’t. The decision lay before you – to embrace the conventional path or to follow the allure of something more unpredictable and genuine.

A surge of conflicting emotions washed over you at the sight of Alastor. The initial surprise and excitement gradually gave way to a simmering anger that had lingered since the day before. Memories of his sudden departure, leaving you alone in the crowd, resurfaced to only fuel the flames of anger.

You composed yourself, maintaining a veneer of poise, as you faced Alastor at the patio doors. "Alastor," you greeted, your tone betraying a subtle undercurrent of tension.

He smiled, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface. "I hoped to catch you before dinner. These are for you, my dear," he said, extending the bouquet of flowers towards you.

You accepted the flowers with a forced smile, your gaze sharpening as you met his eyes. "How kind of you. But if this is your way of an apology for leaving me the night before then you are not forgiven," you remarked, your words laced with a hint of reproach.

Alastor's expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of remorse crossing his features. "I apologize if my departure caused you any distress. It wasn't my intention."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at his nonchalant response. "Intentions or not, it was thoughtless. All this is challenging enough without being abandoned in the middle of a crowded club."

Alastor's gaze dropped ever so slightly, "You're right, and I regret not explaining myself that night." The man before you was unable to meet your eyes, "Something came up and I had to tend to it right away, I had hoped to invite you to dinner to properly apologize."

"Dinner?" You looked back at the clock hanging from your wall, knowing that your mother was expecting you in less than an hour to join her, "I can't tonight."

"Tomorrow then?" Alastor persisted, his eyes searching for a glimpse of agreement.

"Tomorrow." you agreed, the magnetic charm that surrounded him softening your resolve. A sense of anticipation lingered, a silent acknowledgment of the romance weaving through the conversation.

As Alastor pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles, a shiver ran down your spine, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His gesture, reminiscent of the forbidden knight in shining armor that came to save your dress that fateful day.

"I will see you tomorrow," you responded, your words breathless, caught in the enchantment of the moment. The courtyard, bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, transformed into a canvas for the unfolding romance between you two. Was this foolish yes? But when you are smitten and swooped off your feet by the person who you think could be the one, it didn’t seem so foolish. Everything surrounding Alastor made perfect sense even when nothing about him made sense at all.

"I can't wait to reveal to you my world, my dear," Alastor's voice carried a mysterious undertone, his words dancing on the edge of menacing. Unbeknownst to you, the promise held a duality, a blend of charm and an underlying darkness that eluded your naive perception.

As Alastor departed, leaving you in the fading light of the terrance, the echoes of his words lingered. The anticipation of the mysterious dinner date took root in your heart, overshadowed by the allure of a world yet to be unveiled. Little did you know, that this romantic endeavor concealed layers of foreshadowing pain and death.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

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[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Konosuba/ToCS) Aqua and Duvalie's S/O bullying them

Aqua is unused to affection directly after getting teased. Usually she's just used to getting screamed at by Kazuma with no form of recompense.

Now that she thought on it, she's just unused to affection in general.

She usually gets very pouty whenever S/O is poking fun at her, getting defensive but quickly caves in after a hug.

As long as S/O is joking, she's okay with it. Meanwhile she'll unleash her screeching and usual cries on Kazuma since she knows he's not joking.

(Kazuma) "Don't coddle her ass! She needs to be told how she is!"

(S/O) "That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

(Aqua) "Yeah, listen to S/O! Hmph!"

(S/O) "...He is right on some level though-"

(Aqua) "YOU SHUT UP!"

Duvalie is irritated very easily. Even if it's by accident, she is quick to be tilted.

Meaning whenever S/O lovingly teases Duvalie, she is about ready to throw hands.

(Duvalie) "S/O! Are you making fun of me?!"

(S/O) "What? Me? Never, Duvie!"

The way S/O said 'Duvie' was enough to get her eye to twitch.

(Duvalie) "ERRGH! I swear to the GODDESS, S/O!".

Depending on how angry she is, if S/O immediately kisses her, it completely short circuits her brain before making her angrier, but slightly flustered.

(Duvalie) "D-DON'T YOU THINK A KISS CAN JUST MAKE ME FORGET THIS!"

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact/ToCS) Shenhe, Beidou, Kokomi, Sara, Sharon, and Duvalie's S/O who speaks in opposites

No one requested this but I'M BRINGING IT BACK FOR PART 3 BAYBEEEEEE

And for anyone who doesn't get this, reader speaks like this when they mean something very nice:

Shenhe thinks her S/O was trying to pick a fight the very first time they spoke.

But upon realizing how panicked they were saying how hideous she looked, Shenhe thought something was up.

After giving them a bit more time to speak, she realizes that they're speaking in opposites.

Which is even more confusing to her.

Was this normal? She had been gone from human civilization for a while.

In some strange way, it helps her understand conversations a bit more speaking with S/O, because she has to pay attention to their facial expressions, not their words.

(Shenhe) "Is everything alright?"

(S/O) "Everything's going just great!"

(Shenhe) "Ah...A bad day, then. If you need to talk about it, I am here."

She will not question the way it helps, only that it helps her, and she's able to help her S/O in return.

Beidou's about ready to glass her S/O when S/O first spoke to her.

Being drunk did not make the translations any easier.

She squints her eye as she reads their facial expressions as they're casually saying the rudest things to her.

(Beidou) "...You uh...drink too much there, bud?"

After getting to know them, she can't help but stick around when she can. She definitely tells Ningguang about the case of the opposite speaking man/woman.

At first she thinks it's some kind of curse before learning they speak in opposites for the most mundane reason.

They didn't have the heart to tell their sibling their birthday present was atrocious, and then it just got out of hand.

Beidou laughed at that fact for a solid five minutes.

But Beidou quickly grows accustomed to how they speak.

(Beidou) "Miss me while I was out on sea?'

(S/O) "Of course I didn't, I'm disappointed you didn't crash and drown out there!"

(Beidou) snrrk! "Ha! Love you too, babe."

When S/O approached her and the other shrine maidens and immediately spouted out insults in a calm manner, Kokomi blinks in confusion.

(Kokomi) "Er...what?"

When they repeat the insult, with a more panicked expression, she figures it out.

(Kokomi) "Oh dear...is this a curse?"

Kokomi is determined to get to the bottom of this and wants to help them out.

...Before realizing that they weren't cursed, they just have a weird mechanism for lying.

Kokomi doesn't particularly mind, though admittedly it does take some energy to translate what they mean sometimes.

And when they call her the ugliest woman they've ever seen, it adds a week's worth of energy to her.

...As strange as that sounds.

(Kokomi) "+100 energy for S/O calling me ugly...Wait a minute."

Sara is highly unamused by S/O's thanks by calling her a ruthless woman.

(Sara) "Watch your tongue! Do you know who you're speaking to?"

S/O got down on their knees to apologize as the insults sprung out more.

(Sara) "...What?"

She's extremely confused as their expression showed they were sorry and panicking, but the words coming out of their mouth indicated otherwise.

Weirdly enough, it was Itto who managed to translate for them, making her even more confused.

Despite the harsh words used on her, and applying the backwards logic to their speaking, they held a lot of affection for her.

Which she didn't know how to feel.

It's kind of hard to have a heart flutter getting called the meanest, most hideous woman of all of Inazuma.

(S/O) "I'll be sure to burn this necklace in a ritualistic fire, Sara!"

(Sara) "...G-Glad to hear it."

Sara and Itto spend some time together to get S/O to say what they mean, lest they say the wrong thing around the wrong people and get into jail.

(Sharon) "...Oh my."

Sharon figures it out right away that S/O is speaking in opposites.

Her sadistic side can't help but play around them, acting offended, though it's obvious she's joking.

Her tone of voice is enough to make them stiffen in fear before she lets out a small giggle.

(Sharon) "Worry not, I understand what you mean. Though, is there any particular reason you speak like that?"

Honestly, Sharon was expecting something a bit more dramatic than a lie spiraling out of control.

But she makes sure that secret never gets out to anyone, and doesn't hesitate to drop in to translate for them.

(S/O) "You look ugly today, Sharon."

(Sharon) "Ah, thank you, you look quite hideous yourself."

(S/O) "S-Sharon!"

(Sharon) "Hah! My apologies, I couldn't resist. Thank you, dear."

(Duvalie) "SAY THAT AGAIN, I DARE YOU!"

Duvalie is about to deck S/O for talking mad shit. And the fact they actually had the gall to repeat themselves!

...Why do they look so nervous?

(Duvalie) "WHAT, LOST-...Your...Nerve?"

She takes a step back and closely watches their body language as they let out even more insults, sweating pinballs.

(Duvalie) "Uh...Are you alright?"

She has no idea why they speak like that, but quickly grows used to it.

Once she realizes what they actually mean, she grows pretty indifferent about it. At least until she thinks about it.

(Duvalie) "...Did you just call me ugly?"

(S/O) "I did, you're absolutely revolting to look at, like a coward in rusty armor."

(Duvalie) "..."

Duvalie doesn't know if she should be blushing or punching them right now.

(Duvalie) "Grr...JUST SAY WHAT YOU MEAN, DAMN IT!"

(S/O) "That's a bit rich, coming from you."

Now her eye was twitching. Option B was looking a bit more appealing now.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Persona 5/Trails of Cold Steel) Makoto and Duvalie's S/O using heavy equipment to fight

Oh believe me, there's a LOT of asks for the Cold Steel gang, just my ass has been so lazy to getting around writing them lmao

(Makoto) "The enemy is weak to physical, lay the pain down!"

Makoto is about to rush in her with her fists before seeing S/O grab a car with their Persona.

They repeatedly smashed the shadow with it, over and over and over.

She watches with a tiny bit of horror, but mostly awe.

Part of her wishes Johanna could do that to someone, because that looked cathartic.

Once they were done, she just nodded.

(Makoto) "Impressive. I don't think they'll be a problem anymore after that."

She's slightly jealous they get to do that.

(Duvalie) "Alright, now you face a Knight of the Stahl-"

Before she can finish her sentence, S/O grabs a Orbal Washing Machine from the building and smashes it over the drones they were fighting.

Part of her was impressed. On one hand, she had no idea they were that strong to lift something that heavy so quickly.

On the other-

(Duvalie) "H-HEY! I WASN'T FINISHED!"

They ignored her, though not on purpose. The repeated smashing was too loud for them to hear.

(Duvalie) "PUT THAT THING DOWN, THEY'RE CRUSHED ALREADY!"

She sighs loudly as she marches over to them and hits the machine out of their hand with her shield.

(Duvalie) "Be a brute in your own fight, damn it!"

Duvalie grumbles as they go to their next engagement. She's going to remember this.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(ToCS/Persona 5) Duvalie and Makoto with a Yor-esque S/O

Duvalie has no idea how S/O even functions as a human.

They excelled at infiltration and execution of enemies, yet completely crashed and burned at doing simple things like cooking.

You'd have to be the biggest idiot in the world to realize they aren't an assassin.

The way they fought in battle reminded her of Sharon, but outside of battle they were a bumbling buffoon.

And yet...they were her bumbling buffoon.

The way they tried so hard to be a loving boyfriend/girlfriend really endeared to Duvalie, making it hard to stay angry at them.

As a battle partner, Duvalie didn't trust anyone else more than her Stahlritter Knights and Lord Arianrhod.

As a romantic partner, no one in the world could top them.

They weren't the best at domestic tasks, but they try their hardest.

And for Duvalie, the fact they love her so much unconditionally and try that hard is enough.

(S/O) "Hey, Duvie! Wanna go out for dinner tonight?"

(Duvalie) "...You burned our dinner again, didn't you?"

(S/O) "...Y-Yes..."

(Duvalie) sigh "I love you, you moron..."

Makoto has no idea what the deal is with her S/O.

During fights they could solo entire groups, but when it came to cooking?

Yeah no, Makoto was the one taking care of that.

It kind of reminded her of Haru in a way, but even she learned how to cook thanks to Akira.

She can't help but laugh sometimes, seeing the messes S/O gets themselves into.

(Makoto) "Um...are you okay?"

(S/O) "D-Dinner exploded on me."

(Makoto) "But you were just cooking rice. In a rice cooker."

(S/O) "I don't wanna talk about it."

Makoto chuckles as she puts a hand to her S/O's cheek.

(Makoto) "Wanna head to Café Leblanc?"

Meanwhile during missions, Makoto has never seen S/O mess up once when it comes to killing Shadows.

It was honestly kind of a terrifying shift.

Now she was definitely being reminded of Haru, in a less comfortable way.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Trails of Cold Steel) Duvalie, Towa, and Sharon's S/O falling asleep on their shoulder

No one requested this, I just feel a MIGHTY NEED to write Duvalie.

Duvalie goes stiff the moment she feels S/O's weight on her shoulder.

She opens her mouth to say something before realizing they're fast asleep.

Well, at least she wasn't in her armor.

Duvalie debates on what to do before feeling S/O's arms wrap around hers.

She's not exactly used to cuddling, but she doesn't hate this feeling, at least that's what she's thinking.

Well...maybe it wouldn't hurt to loosen up since it was only them.

Swallowing her pride, she gives the tiniest peck to their head. Duvalie lets the smile and small blush form on her face as she snuggles into S/O herself, her head resting against theirs.

(Duvalie) "You're lucky you're so cute..."

She's thankful they aren't awake to hear her say that.

Towa giggles quietly when she feels S/O lean against her.

But that giggle turns into a rapid blush once she realizes S/O isn't awake.

Yet Towa finds them even more adorable. Part of her really wants to pinch their cheek, but she resists the urge to.

Towa gently picks herself up and lets their head rest against something soft like her jacket or a nearby cushion as she finds a blanket.

Once she finds a suitable sheet, she wraps it around S/O so they can rest properly.

With a kiss to the cheek and another giggle, she gets back to work as they rest.

Goddess willing, she mignt be able to sneak in that blanket with them later.

(Towa) "Be right back, S/O...!"

Sharon simply smiles once she notices S/O has fallen asleep.

With terrifyingly efficient grace, she scoops S/O into her arms without even waking them from doing so.

Her expression doesn't change as she carries them effortlessly to bed, properly tucking them in.

As much as she'd like to be their pillow, she did have to do some chores first.

But that doesn't stop Sharon from sitting on the bed next to them and brushing away a strand of hair on their face.

Her smile grows softer, watching S/O's calm expression.

Sharon thought to herself if this was what she's been missing all these years. Someone to call her own.

(Sharon) "Rest well, S/O."

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Trails of Cold Steel) Laura, Fie, Alisa, Emma, Sara, Towa, and Duvalie cuddling HC's

Honestly, I need to give the Cold Steel gals, JJK and the AOT way more attention than what I currently give them.

Laura is extremely awkward at cuddling.

All she has known throughout her life is training and the most physical affection she has gotten has been hugs from her father.

So Laura isn't great at actually giving affection physically. The moment she hugs her S/O, they can feel their spine bend in ways it's not supposed to.

But after getting used to them, Laura learns to be more gentle, and lets S/O cuddle into her, and vice versa.

(Laura) "Um...is this comfortable, S/O? Please let me know if you need me to change position."

After making sure S/O is alright with cuddling, Fie immediately collapses onto their lap and snores away.

She has no shame, or at least it seems like it.

When she snuggles into her S/O, they can notice a very faint blush. They know that she wouldn't ever be this vulnerable with just anyone.

S/O's fate is now to be Fie's lap pillow.

(Fie) "Hm...comfy."

Alisa's heart starts pounding the moment her S/O gets close with her.

She's unused to this kind of affection and doesn't know what to do at first so she's stiff.

Alisa will glare daggers at Sharon who giggles at the sight of them cuddling.

But she can't help but smile once she gets used to it. It really does feel nice.

(Alisa) "Do you need me to get you anything? ...Just stay here? A-Alright..."

Emma doesn't mind the cuddling at all, and is usually doing her own thing as she feels S/O weight gently on her.

Emma will sometimes snuggle with them after taking off her glasses, and rest her head on their shoulders.

She can't help but fall asleep on some days, and Celine will sometimes be on her lap or S/O's.

Celine will also tease Emma to death once S/O is out of the room.

(Emma) "Heh, are you falling asleep? If you want me to, I can get you a blanket."

Sara, the alcoholic typhoon of a woman she is, won't mind the cuddling at all, though her S/O will have to learn to ignore the smell.

On the days she isn't smashed before 12:00 P.M shows up on the clock, she is very affectionate, with one arm always wrapped around S/O's waist.

She has an iron grip and lets her S/O rest on her, though some days she just puts her head on their lap with a smile.

Sara will talk about whatever as she just lazily rests on their lap, enjoying their time together.

(Sara) "...And get this, he told me that I needed to hurry up and get married! Psh, yeah, I'll marry my foot to his face, the jackass!"

By the goddess, Towa needs the cuddles.

She'll always be in her S/O's arms after a long day, quick to fall asleep.

At first, Towa will be blushing madly, stuttering over herself when she wakes up trying to apologize.

But Towa quickly grows accustomed being with her S/O, and there's not a day she can go by without sleeping in their arms.

(Towa) "S/O? Thank you for always being here for me. If you ever need to rest, I'll happily take you into my arms! Just...don't expect me to carry you."

Duvalie will sigh as she averts her gaze from her S/O.

Though she won't say no...After locking the door to make sure no one comes in anyway.

If her S/O wishes to continue the cuddles, they must say nothing about the soft smile that grows on her face.

Lest they want to see her tsundere wrath. The pout she makes is absolutely worth the risk, however.

(Duvalie) "...W-What? I'm smiling?...Tch, I don't know what you're talking about. If you got a problem, then find a pillow or something instead of using me! Hmph..."

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Trails of Cold Steel) Musse and Duvalie jealous HC's

Musse doesn't get jealous easily.

She knows her S/O loves her, and is aware of her own teasing to all of her friends. It wouldn't make much sense or be fair if she got pouty for S/O hanging with other people.

Especially all the spicy comments she makes about Rean.

But Musse is still human, and she does crave the affection from her S/O.

So, Musse will just hang around S/O a bit more than usual if she's desiring their attention, before stealing them for a day or so for a date.

(Musse) "Oh, S/O. Do you think you could spend a bit of time for little ol' me?~...Joking aside, would you like to get lunch together? It's been a bit since we have."

Hell hath no fury like a jealous Duvie.

Duvalie is already pretty tsundere, so when she gets jealous, her temper goes up significantly higher.

She's too proud to say it in front of anyone else other than her S/O, but she starts to feel a bit insecure, if maybe she wasn't the one to give them enough attention.

But those feelings quickly disappear when her S/O finally makes the time to take Duvalie out, alleviating her worries.

The strangest part about her jealousy, is that she won't make any snarky remarks, she'll actually be honest. At least when they're completely alone with no one to hear them.

(Duvalie) "Hey um...thanks for always dealing with me, S/O. I'm sorry if I'm always giving you a headache...T-This conversation doesn't leave this room, do you got that?!"

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Trails of Cold Steel) Duvalie and Sharon's S/O reacting to them out of their usual attire

Honestly my jaw hit the damn floor seeing Sharon outside the maid outfit. And for reference, here's what they look like outside their usual outfits.

Duvalie looks at her S/O curiously when they're looking for her.

(Duvalie) "Uh, you're not blind are you? I'm right here."

(S/O) "O-Oh, Duvalie! I didn't recognize you outside the armor."

(Duvalie) "Evidently. What, do you think I'd wear a full suit of armor to an ice cream date?"

(S/O) "...But you still have your sword and shield-"

(Duvalie) "I don't judge you on what you wear, S/O! This is just my casual clothes, let me wear it how I see fit! Besides, I thought you'd be happy to see me in something different."

(S/O) "I-I am! You look beautiful, actually."

(Duvalie) "I-...! L-Let's just go already."

Thanks to the last statement, Duvalie makes an effort in future dates to wear different dresses and maybe she ditches the sword and shield on those dates too.

(Sharon) "Dear, do you not hear me?"

(S/O) "Sharon! W-Wow, you look...stunning!"

Sharon hides a giggle with one hand.

(Sharon) "Surprised? I wanted tonight's dinner to be a little special. I can't be your personal maid all the time, you know."

(S/O) "Hah, that's fair. Shall we?"

Sharon isn't the type to get flustered. At all.

But she can't help but feel like a regular girl out on the town. Her maid outfit and her...other job's attire was all she's ever worn. This was one of the first things she's been able to pick out for herself, and she's glad that S/O approved.

Sharon saves the dress for very special occasions from then on, making extra sure it's taken good care of, and that it's reserved for S/O only.

[popamolly]

‘DANCE WITH THE DEVIL!’ ALASTOR

summary. In the midst of a grand party, a sudden interruption occurs as uniformed officers question Madam Duvalier about the disappearance of their former chauffeur, Charles Ray. Tensions rise as suspicions linger, but Madam Duvalier swiftly redirects attention with her charm. Meanwhile, you stands alone, burdened by secrets and uncertainties, with only Alastor offering a silent comfort that belies darker truths lurking beneath the surface.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN

warnings. human!alastor x fem!reader, dark romance, murder, mention of blood/gore, agegap (you're in your 20s while Alastor is in his early 30s), alastor preys on your innocence, eventual smut, not a happy ending, barely edited

In the soft light of early morning, the world seemed to slow down as you and Alastor found yourselves immersed in the warmth of a bath together. The steam rose around you, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere as you leaned back against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

Alastor's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he placed gentle kisses along your shoulder, each touch sending a ripple of warmth through your body. The water lapped gently against your skin, soothing away any lingering traces of tension from the night before.

"Let's strike a deal," Alastor whispered against your skin, his breath teasing your ear. "I'll court you properly, and all you have to do is accept me as I am."

Your fingers entwined with his, silently affirming your love and connection. "Whether you're a radio host or not, I've accepted you, Alastor," you murmured, meeting his gaze with a tender smile. "Nothing can change that."

"Really?" Alastor wanted desperately to believe your words, holding onto hope as if it were precious. "Once we make a deal, it's set in stone."

"I promise I won't break it," you assured him, your hands trailing down his chest absentmindedly.

"Is that so?" Alastor tilted his head in amusement, a grin playing on his lips as he observed you. "Well, I suppose I'll have no choice but to trust you."

Your laughter filled the air briefly before silence settled in, your mind consumed by worries. This was your second night escaping to be with Alastor, knowing your mother was seething with anger back home. Facing her wrath seemed daunting, especially with the ball happening today. How would you tell her about your love for someone she wouldn't approve of?

"A penny for your thoughts?" Alastor's voice broke through your thoughts, the water around you both still as you met his gaze, nerves evident on your face.

"I'm thinking about my mother," you confessed with a sigh. "She wants me to marry someone she picks, either an older wealthy man or a young arrogant one."

"The party tonight is solely to find me a match she approves of," you added with a frown. "How do I even begin to talk to her about us?"

Alastor's eye twitched slightly in annoyance at a woman he hadn't even met yet. "She's standing in the way of your happiness," he noted. "How cruel of her."

"But perhaps," you muttered, "She only wants what's best for me."

"A woman like her won't be satisfied with her daughter marrying someone she deems insignificant," Alastor's words cut through the air, casting a shadow on your mother's intentions. "You might have to prepare for the worst. Your mother might not prioritize your happiness, whereas I want to ensure it," he continued, his finger trailing along your chin. "In the end, you may have to make a choice."

"Why should I have to choose? Why must I be forced into such a position?" You looked up at Alastor, frustration and confusion evident in your voice.

Alastor's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I know it's not fair, my dear," he said gently, reaching out to caress your cheek. "But sometimes, life presents us with difficult choices."

"I don't want to lose you," you admitted, fear creeping into your words.

Alastor's gaze held yours firmly. "And you won't," he vowed. "No matter what happens, I'll stand by your side."

You leaned into his touch, finding solace in his unwavering support. "I just wish things weren't so complicated," you whispered.

"It would be less rewarding if it was easy," Alastor murmured, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "But we'll face this together, whatever may come."

As the morning light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the bath, you shared quiet moments of affection and closeness, basking in the love that enveloped you both. In that serene morning embrace, time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor each precious second together, grateful for the bond that united your hearts.

Alastor's resolve began to waver, his feelings for you becoming undeniable. Seeing you distressed tore at him in ways he couldn't explain. Whoever dared to oppose your relationship with him would simply have to die, for your happiness was now intricately intertwined with his own.

With a heavy heart but a newfound determination, Alastor made a silent vow to protect you at all costs, even if it meant defying the expectations of society or facing dire consequences, because suddenly he didn't care about himself anymore now that you were in his life— in his arms. Love had a way of reshaping priorities, and in that moment, Alastor realized that he would go to great lengths to ensure your happiness, even if it meant challenging the very fabric of the world around you.

The first light of morning painted the sky in hues of pink and gold as Alastor escorted you back to your home. The tranquility of the night gave way to the bustling streets, a stark reminder of the reality awaiting both of you.

As you approached your residence, a sense of unease settled over you. Your mother's reaction was unpredictable, especially after your absence throughout the night. Alastor tightened his grip slightly, offering silent reassurance as you prepared to face the inevitable.

The moment you stepped through the front door, your mother rushed out to meet you, her face etched with worry and anger. "Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Her words tumbled out in a mix of relief and frustration.

You tried to explain, but her gaze fell upon Alastor, her expression hardening. "And who is this?" she demanded, her tone laced with disapproval.

Alastor stepped forward, his demeanor calm yet resolute. "I am Alastor," he introduced himself, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "I apologize for any concern caused. I assure you, my intentions are honorable."

Your mother's eyes narrowed with a humorless laugh as she studied Alastor, her skepticism palpable. "Stealing my daughter for nighttime rendezvous is far from honorable. If anything, it's a dishonor to my family and yours, whoever your family may be. If you truly care for my daughter, then you would court her properly and salvage whatever dignity she has left."

"He intends to, mother," you spoke up, your gaze challenging hers.

"Well, I should hope so," your mother replied, her gaze assessing Alastor's outfit. "If he intends to impress me, then he is already failing miserably. Tell me, what is your family name?"

"I have no family name," Alastor answered honestly.

"Oh?" Your mother glanced at you before returning her gaze to Alastor, her tone condescending. "So an orphan with no wealth. I assume you are of middle class, if not lower. What job do you have?"

"I am a radio show host-" Alastor began, but your mother's laughter cut him off.

Her lack of politeness made your blood boil, and you struggled to maintain composure. Realizing her rudeness, she covered her mouth with a shake of her head. "Excuse me, but I am wasting my time even conversing with you, Alastor."

"Mother-!" you began to argue, but her sharp voice cut you off.

"You will leave my house at once and never speak to my daughter again, is that understood?" she told Alastor, her tone final and cold.

Alastor's response was a bone-chilling smile as he bowed slightly. "Understood," he replied before turning to leave.

"Alastor, wait, I will come with you," you started to say, but his warm touch on your arm stopped you in your tracks.

"I will see you tonight, darling. It seems your mother needs some convincing that I am the right man for you," Alastor said softly, leaning down to place a lingering kiss on your knuckles. "Until tonight."

"Alastor..." The word hung in the air, but he was already gone, leaving you with a whirlwind of emotions and the weight of uncertainty. The one thing you seemed to have control over in your life was slipping away from your fingers, and your mother was to blame. This was all because of her.

You were tired of the glitz and glamour, tired of always being the sweet, obedient Duvalier without a thought to your own desires. It was frustrating and suffocating. Alastor had been the breath of fresh air you'd been wanting, needing in your life. Without him, you were sure you'd snap with insanity. He brought passion, excitement, and genuine love into your world, something your mother seemed incapable of understanding. Your mother's words replayed in your mind, her insistence on societal norms and status crushing your spirit. The sting of her words lingered, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Alastor's touch. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him, not after everything you'd shared.

"I can't believe you!" You turned around to face your mother, your emotions spilling over as you finally lashed out that built upon anger you've been holding back, "How could you treat him that way?"

"I did what was necessary," your mother replied calmly, not meeting your gaze as she switched her cane from her right hand to her left.

"Necessary? You just sent away the man I love!" Your voice cracked with emotion.

"He was not suitable," your mother insisted, her tone firm.

"Suitable? What does that even mean to you? Money? Status? " Your frustration bubbled over, hands balling into fists at your sides. "Do you even care about my happiness?"

"Of course, I do," your mother retorted, her facade faltering for a moment.

"Then why can't you see that Alastor makes me happy?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you pleaded with her.

"He is not from our world, dear," your mother said softly, her tone tinged with slight regret but she remained composed.

"But he cares for me, Mother. Isn't that what truly matters?" You wiped away a tear, your heart heavy with disappointment.

"I want what's best for you," your mother replied.

"And I want to be with Alastor," you countered, your resolve unwavering. The tension hung thick in the air, both of you standing firm in your beliefs. It was a battle between tradition and love, expectations and desires, "Just because you failed at love doesn't mean I should follow in your footsteps."

Just as those harsh words left your mouth, your mother's hand collided with your cheek. The stinging imprint left on your face hardly matched the weight of your heavy heart as you slowly brought your hand to your cheek, the last hopefulness you held out for your mother shattering to a million pieces.

Your mother clears her throat, turning to look at the head maid Corrine with a small wavering smile, "Corrine, see to it that my daughter gets settled for the day and prepared for the night ahead. We need her looking her best, don't we?"

Your mother's request felt like a final blow, leaving you feeling helpless and trapped in a world where your desires were constantly overshadowed by expectations and appearances.

As Corrine led you upstairs, her touch was gentle but her eyes reflected a deep understanding of your pain. The tears streaming down your cheeks were a silent testament to the turmoil within you, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat.

In your room, as Corrine helped you settle in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation. The upcoming evening, with its planned festivities and forced smiles, loomed over you like a dark cloud.

As you gazed out of the window, watching the world pass by, a spark of determination flickered within you. You may have been dealt a harsh hand, but you refused to let it break you completely. Tonight, amidst the glittering party, you would find a way to assert your own voice and reclaim a measure of control over your life once and for all- you wanted to be with Alastor and nothing was going to stand in your way. Not even your mother.

As the hours passed and evening approached, the grandeur of the ball loomed larger in your mind. Despite your mother's expectations and demands, you found solace in the routine of getting ready for the event.

The maids fluttered around you, their expert hands tending to every detail of your appearance. A dress was selected, jewels were carefully chosen, and hair was styled to perfection. Yet, amidst the flurry of activity, your mind was elsewhere.

Alastor consumed your thoughts, his absence a heavy presence in the midst of preparations. Would he show up tonight? The hope was mingled with uncertainty, creating a tumultuous storm of emotions within you.

Ignoring your mother's attempts at conversation throughout the day, you focused on the vision of Alastor standing before you, his eyes filled with determination and love. The idea of him breaking through the barriers of societal expectations to be with you filled you with a sense of longing and anticipation.

As the final touches were made to your appearance, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The image that stared back at you was poised and elegant, yet underneath the facade was a woman ready to challenge the norms and embrace her own happiness.

With a deep breath, you made your way downstairs to join the festivities, your heart fluttering with both excitement. Tonight would be a turning point, a chance to assert your desires and perhaps, just perhaps, find the courage to defy expectations for the one you loved.

Throughout the evening, various suitors approached you, each with their own attempts to court you and earn the privilege of a dance. They showered you with compliments, asked about your interests, and tried to charm you with their status.

You remained polite, engaging in light conversation and accepting their requests to dance. One suitor, a young nobleman with a charming smile, engaged in conversation about your family's estate and the upcoming social events. Another, a dashing gentleman with impeccable manners, complimented your gown and expressed admiration for your poise on the dance floor.

As the night progressed, the constant stream of suitors became a blur, their words blending into a symphony of polite gestures and formalities. Despite their efforts, none of them could capture your full attention, for your heart belonged to Alastor.

You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, all the while longing for the moment when Alastor would make his grand entrance and sweep you away from the pretense and formality of the ball. His presence was the missing piece, the one that would make the evening truly memorable and meaningful.

As you stood by the refreshment table, trying to ease your dizzy mind from all the twirling and socializing, a familiar voice sent a jolt of excitement through you.

"May I have this dance?" Alastor's voice, warm and familiar, reached your ears from behind. Turning around, your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yes, of course," you replied, trying to contain the urge to tackle him in a hug. Instead, you extended your hand, which he took with a gentle grasp, leading you to the dance floor.

You moved together in rhythm to the music, the world around you fading into the background. It was just the two of you, lost in the moment, lost in each other's eyes. The tension and formality of the evening melted away, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity.

Alastor's presence was like a soothing balm to your soul, grounding you amidst the whirlwind of the ball. With each step and turn, you felt a sense of connection and understanding that transcended words.

As the dance came to an end, Alastor held you close, his gaze filled with affection and a hint of mischief. "I told you I would see you tonight, darling," he whispered, a smile playing on his lips.

You couldn't help but return the smile, feeling a surge of happiness and contentment wash over you. In that moment, surrounded by the music and the magic of the ball, you knew that everything would be alright as long as you had Alastor by your side.

"I never doubted you," you replied softly, your gaze locked with Alastor's. In that moment, all your worries faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of his presence.

As the music and laughter filled the ballroom, a slight tension rippled through the crowd as a group of uniformed officers made an unexpected entrance. Your eyebrows furrowed with worry as you watched them escort your mother into the parlor, their expressions curious and attentive rather than stern.

Sensing something unusual, you quickly excused yourself from Alastor as you made your way through the crowd of hushed whispers. Anxiety gnawed at your stomach as you followed the men into the parlor, where your mother stood with a slightly puzzled expression.

"What's going on?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

The leader of the group stepped forward, his tone respectful but probing. "Madam Duvalier, we're here to ask you a few questions regarding the recent disappearance of Charles Ray, your former chauffeur," he explained, his words causing a murmur of surprise among the gathered guests.

"Of all times to show up, you do it at the biggest party I've hosted to date," Your mother's tone wavered between annoyance and mild relief, her eyes betraying a flicker of apprehension. "Very well, I'll do my best to assist you," she replied, her voice composed despite the tension in the room.

"Mister Charles Ray was last seen at his job post according to your servants but his family has not seen nor made contact with him since yesterday night," the Sheriff continued, his tone grave. "His sudden disappearance has raised concerns."

"Well, if I had a sound mind, I would have fired him, as I haven't seen him for the past few days. I assumed he had a family emergency to attend to, or at least it better have been a family emergency if he left without informing me," Your mother explained, her frustration evident. "Wherever he is, you won't find him here."

The officer nodded and turned to you, "Any comments to add, Ms. Duvalier?"

You felt a pang of unease at being dragged into the situation, the weight of the questioning casting a shadow over the festive evening. "Mr. Ray escorted me somewhere only the night before," you admitted honestly. "But after an hour or so, we parted ways. That was the last I saw him."

"And where was this place?" The officer pressed, his gaze scrutinizing.

"My daughter will answer no more questions without a lawyer present," Your mother intervened firmly, her grip on your arm conveying a silent urgency to stop speaking.

"Corrine, please see them out," Your mother instructed the maid, her voice masking the underlying tension. "I will have no more interruptions on this happy day."

As Corrine escorted the officers out, you couldn't shake off the sense of unease that lingered in the air. The officers' suspicion was palpable, their eyes lingering on you with an unspoken question.

"We will speak of this later," your mother whispered to you, her tone cryptic yet filled with a sense of urgency. With a practiced smile, she turned toward the crowded guests, her charming aura masking the underlying tension. "Let's not let this unfortunate incident dampen our spirits. Shall we return to the ballroom and continue the festivities?"

The guests, eager to move past the momentary disruption, followed your mother's lead, their chatter and laughter gradually filling the air once again. You stood alone in the parlor, the gravity of the situation settling in as you exchanged a look with Alastor who approached you, his presence a welcome comfort despite the weight of the situation. His hand on your shoulder was a silent reassurance, but you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling you felt from his oddly comforting touch, a tiny voice in the back of your mind yelling something that you couldn't quite make out.

Alastor's gaze held a mix of understanding and caution, a silent acknowledgment of the delicate balance between truth and deception. For it was only he who knew the truth, because it was he who buried Mr.Ray ray six feet under.

You watched the guests return to the ballroom, the facade of the happy occasion seemed to crack, revealing the underlying tension and secrets that lurked beneath the surface. You knew that the night would never be the same, that the mystery of Mr. Ray's disappearance would haunt you until the truth was uncovered.

But for now, you plastered on a smile and rejoined the festivities with Alastor, knowing that behind the masks and smiles, lies and secrets danced in the shadows, waiting to be exposed.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

── ꒰ ‧˚ author’s note ｡˚ ꒱ Sorry this took so long to come out, whoopsie. but to make it up to you; this story will be updated EVERY SATURDAY from now on. That being said, you will be getting another chapter this Saturday :) thank you for the constant love and support. like, comments, and reblog are appreciated.

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[popamolly]

‘ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL ’ ALASTOR

summary. Amidst the vibrant 1920s in New Orleans, a forbidden love unfolds in the lively jazz-filled atmosphere, evolving from an intoxicating romance to a twisted tale of heartbreak and murder, serving as a reminder to never dance with the devil.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

warnings. human!alastor x fem!reader, eventual smut, mature themes, age gap! youre 20 while alastor is in his early 30s, alastor is a serial killer, alastor preys on your innocence, Alastor stalks you, dark romance, angst, gore, death, blood kink, not a happy ending fyi

author’s note.. i want to point out that alastor’s design as a human hasn’t been been revealed/confirmed anywhere by the creator so for this short fic i described him based on his canon creole/european heritage with a few references from popular fan art made by him. I DID NOT make this art, if you know the artists please comment so i can give credit. enjoy sinners.

“Salutations! Good evening everyone, good to be back on the air!” The radio show hosts’ voice comes to life as your Mother turns the nozzle of the small wooden radio slightly to the right just to turn it up a bit more so she could hear it properly. Your ears perk up slightly from across the room, trying your best not to show eagerness since your Mother had already let you stay up past your curfew on the promise you would practice your needlework.

As boring as that was, it was better that being forced into a dark room with no other source of entertainment but your thoughts, “Now for tonight’s program! Courting season is upon us! Birds are chirping with love this year, especially with the prominent Montgomery’s masquerade ball in just a few days time. What do you say folks? Is love in the air for some lucky young souls?”

Your eyes dance across the flickering flames from the fireplace, tugging your blue thread through your quilting weight cotton in deep thought as you take in every word the radio host was saying. It was courting season and you were finally of age to find a suitor. This was finally your time to let go of your home life and become a respectable wife in high society. You weren’t too thrilled really, but you had to be ready to embrace change and find, at least, a decent husband that you could somewhat like and have children with.

It wasn’t much of a dream or aspiration but it was something you had to learn to be content with. Your family name of Duvalier had a strong legacy to upkeep and you knew as the only child in your family you must do your duty and carry on as nothing but an obedient child bearer. All the gowns, makeup, or jewelry in the world couldn’t even make you excited for the next days ahead. You knew it would be nothing but men lined up out the door and into the street with poor attempts of courting now that the announcer finally announced it.

You couldn’t wait to be the bait on the hook for any potential big fish to catch. Note the sarcasm.

“Moving forward to a more serious topic, the police have asked me to inform all of you that yet another body has been found in the Pine Grove Woods. How horrendous! They were dismembered and barely recognizable!” You shivered at the way you could hear him smiling, “Some say it was our missing darling Henrietta O’Hare, could it be? More information to come but do stick around for some of my favorite slow time jazz, perfect for any woman’s ear even the deceased ones, God rest her soul.”

The broadcast began to play some jazz, making you feel as if your brain went in a whirlwind from the information you had just recieved. Another body was found?

“How horrific,” You mother turned down the radio a bit until the jazz music was nothing more but a hum filling the room, “There is some mad man on the loose, probably someone from the poorer districts”

“Or it’s someone of high society,” You suddenly spoke up, glancing toward your Mother before continuing your needlework absentmindedly, why did you always struggle in making flower when it came to embroidery? “Must we always assume it’s someone of lower class?”

“That is quite enough,” Your mother knew that that sharp tongue of yours would be a problem when it came to finding you a husband. She would have to snap it off herself if you were ever to find a decent catch. The last thing she needed was you becoming an old maid and disappointing the family name, “I do believe it is time for you to retire to bed dear. It is a big day for you tomorrow.”

You set down your cloth, standing up from your chair before bowing your head respectfully toward her, “I shall see you in the morning then.”

In the dimly lit hall, a subtle sense of unease washes over you as you ascend the staircase, each step echoing with the weight of looming responsibilities. The second-floor corridor stretches ahead, leading to the room that carries the weight of your familial expectations.

Arriving at your door, you hesitate before entering. The looming prospect of tomorrow's endeavors casting a shadow over your thoughts.

You slip into the vastness of your bedroom, the opulence of the room a stark reminder of the legacy you're bound to uphold. You look up at the family portrait that hung proudly on your wall, your father proud and smiling, it made your heart ache at his absence. You knew your mother was extremely hard on you because now that he was gone, she was all you had left— and she wouldn’t be here forever. Her harshness came from a place of kindness, something that you were force to understand at a young age for the sake of your own emotions and sanity. Regardless, everything still weighed on you and that alone had your body feeling more heavy than usual as you got under your covers that night.

“M-Mother! Is this really necessary?” The shopkeeper and her assistants force a girdle up your plush thighs, roughly scrapping it against your skin, “Ow!”

Your mother sat with a perfect view of you as you stood on a little platform in front of a long mirror, a satisfied smile tugs at her lips, “We need to slim those hips down (Y/N), slim and pretty in the beauty norm now. Be lucky you weren’t a teenager like me in the early 1900s, the corsets were worse.”

You huff just as the workers fix your brassiere, raising your arms so they could help you slip the gown you were going to wear to the ball over your head. It was a Egyptian silk dress that reached right above your ankles, adorned with sparkly sequin. The dress was beautiful, you admired it by looking at your reflection, feeling as though you were getting more confidence to take this courting season in stride.

“Now for a mask! It is a Masquerade ball Ms.Duvalier,” The shopkeeper brings over a glass case, opening it with a soft ‘click!’ to present you with an assortment of different animal themed masks. Your fingers trace over the intricate designs in awe, “Might I suggest one for you? Perhaps you’d like to be a lamb?”

“Innocent, pure, I like it.” Your mother agrees, shooing away the shopkeeper to come step closer to you, a proud look on her face as she looks over your attire.

You stop the shopkeeper before she could walk away by grabbing her arm gently, a small smile on your face as you took out another mask that caught your attention, “But I think the deer suits me better, no?”

“(Y/N), darling, a deer?” Your Mother’s lips turns into a flat line, “Of all things.”

“You are dictating everything I do, the least you can do is let me have is a choice in what mask I wear tonight.” You grabbed the deer mask and held it up. It only covered half of your face, the antlers on either side of the mask were small but so unique you were sure to catch a few stray eyes. It was different— beautiful even, “Please?”

Your mother gave in to your sweet look with a roll of her eyes, “Fine, fine, if you must.”

"Let me package this right along with your evening gown then!" The shopkeeper disappears behind a counter to fold your purchases neatly.

Then the rest of the day went on in a flash. Afternoon tea soon turned into the early evening and you found yourself getting ready with the help of your housemaids. Before you knew it you were exiting the car and stepping onto the stone steps to the Montgomery Estate. You and your mother were welcomed especially among the rest as special guests, your family name carrying a wealth not only through currency but in history as well.

The grand ballroom of the Montgomery house was adorned with shimmering lights and elegant decorations, setting the perfect backdrop for the lively affair. It didn’t take you long before you were swept up by men and their invitations to dance. With your mother’s approval, you glided through the dance floor, the music enveloped you, and the laughter of the partygoers echoed in the air. The atmosphere was electric and you found that just as it was fun to waltz under the shimmering chandeliers, it was also draining.

The gentlemen you danced with varied in charm and conversation skills. Some were charming, others less so, but each dance brought in the hope of marriage. The night progressed and with it the clinking of glasses created a mesmerizing rhythm.

Amidst the whirlwind of conversations, you found yourself being a bit of wallflower now that the night was at its height. With sore feet, you stood along the sidelines and people watched. Faces blurred, and voices almost a distant echo in your mind as you sip your champagne.

Lost in the moment, you couldn't help but wonder if the right dance partner would emerge from the crowd. Perhaps someone would sweep you off your feet like a fairytale knight or you would be one of the lucky ones to fall in love at first sight. Or is that wishful thinking? You didn’t care, your mother controlled everything in your life and you wouldn’t let her control your mind too. Being a hopeful romantic was who you are no matter what high society says. In the midst of it all, you wanted to discover a meaningful connection— love. Was that so bad? You hoped to have a fairytale ending but that dream was becoming less of a reality as the dancers whirled and more of, exactly that, a hopeless dream.

A lady suddenly bumps into you, knocking your champagne glass into your dress, making you spill it all over your gorgeous gown. The woman apologizes profusely but you dismiss it with an understanding smile, knowing that she meant no ill intent and that it was genuinely an accident. Excusing yourself from your mother’s watchful gaze from across the room, you make your way toward the patio that seemed so distant from all the lively entertainment.

Finding privacy on the patio, you began to rubbing your stain with a napkin, nearly cursing at yourself because you only appeared to be making it worse. Your mother would scold you for acting as if you didn’t have the money to replace it with another, better, gown but you couldn’t help it. Unlike her you weren’t so materlistic and flashed your money whenever you got the chance.

“Ah, damn..” You mumbled to yourself.

“You should dab and not rub, my good lady.” A sudden voice from the shadows had you jumping out your skin. You turn to look at the man that emerged, a warm grin on his face as he stepped forward. You were in awe at the fact that his masquerade mask was just like yours, only with bigger antlers to represent that he was a male deer. You saw nothing more than his tan pointy chin and eyes but oh his eyes, they were such a lovely brown that it felt as you were lost in the soil on a rainy day.

“I-I’m sorry?” You were flustered by his mysterious nature, not really catching what he had said only a few second before.

“I said that if you want to save your dress darling, you should dab and not rub.” The man repeated.

You blinked, still taken aback by the unexpected encounter. The man's advice finally registered, and you nodded, grateful for the guidance.

"Thank you," you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. "I appreciate the tip. I suppose I got a bit carried away trying to fix it."

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet patio. "It happens to the best of us. May I?"

He gestured towards the stain, and you took a step back, allowing him to inspect the damage. With surprising grace, he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the spot gently.

"There, that should help. But you might want to have it professionally cleaned once the night is over," he suggested, his eyes locking onto yours.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you met his gaze. The dim light on the patio cast a mysterious aura around him, making you all the more curious. Despite his charm, you couldn't shake the feeling that you knew him from somewhere, his voice and mannerisms creating a sense of familiarity.

"Thank you, really," you said, feeling a bit flustered by the attention. "And who might you be, coming to the rescue like this?"

He bowed slightly, the antlers on his mask making it appear a whimsical gesture. "Call me Alastor. A pleasure to be of service, my dear."

"Alastor," you repeated, committing the name to memory. "I'm (Y/N)—" Before you could properly introduce yourself, the distant melody of the waltz called you back to the ballroom.

"I must return to the party," you sighed, torn between the stranger and the obligations of being a Duvalier.

"And yet you don't seem in a hurry to go," Alastor seemed to hold a playful glint as he observed your inner conflict.

"I suppose I'm caught between the dance floor and the quiet patio" you admitted, a subtle smile playing on your lips. The both of you knowing the real reason you were hesitant to go back inside.

Alastor chuckled, gesturing towards the ballroom with a flourish. "Ah, the dance of courtship. A beautiful spectacle, isn't it? But sometimes, the most enchanting moments happen away from the crowd."

His words resonated with a certain truth, and you found yourself drawn to the charm of his demeanor. Alastor extended his hand, an invitation for another dance under the moonlit night on the patio.

"Care for a dance out here, away from the crowd?" he proposed, his smile inviting.

Caught in the magnetic pull of his charisma, you nodded, the soreness of your feet magically disappearing once you place your hand in his. The two of you waltzed gracefully under the soft glow of the patio lights, away from the watchful eyes. The music seemed to follow you, creating a private serenade for this impromptu dance.

As you swirled in Alastor's arms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation. The night air was cool, and the courtyard offered a break from the bustling festivities. In that moment, it was just you, Alastor, and the dance that unfolded between you.

The waltz under the moonlit patio seemed to be a dance outside the constraints of time, but eventually, the music came to a graceful end. Alastor gently released your hand, and with a lingering gaze, he proposed an idea that sparked curiosity.

"You know," he said, his voice a suggestive murmur, "there's a hidden gem not too far from here. A jazz club with live music that's simply captivating. Care to join me for a bit more magic tonight?"

"Well, I-" You glanced back into the ballroom, noticing your mother conversing with other senior patrons, hardly knowing your absence just yet, but it wouldn't be long before she bound off in search of you. Though you were reeled back into Alastors light touch and warm embrace, noting that if you were to listen to people order you about constantly everyday then you had to take some charge back when it came to your life.

Intrigued by the idea of an adventure beyond the ballroom, you nodded, a spark of excitement filling you. Alastor led the way, guiding you through the elegant corridors and towards the exit as swiftly as possible, thankful avoiding your mother. As you stepped outside, the cool night air embraced you, and the distant sound of jazz music reached your ears, beckoning you closer.

The jazz club was dimly lit, with the smooth rhythms of a saxophone and the sultry voice of a singer weaving through the air. Alastor found a secluded spot, and the two of you settled in, immersed in the ambiance. The music stirred something within and your heart fluttered with every stolen glance between you and Alastor.

A waitress brought over drinks and your eyes widened as you take a sip of the alcoholic beverage, it certainly wasn't champagne since this was something you noticed only your father would drink. It was dark, and a bit stronger than you were used to but you welcomed the stinging taste.

Alastor's company proved to be as enchanting as the jazz melodies. His conversation flowed effortlessly, and there was a certain ease in the air, as if time itself slowed down within the walls of the club.

Suddenly, the jazz club went into an energetic uproar as the music changed to one of something slow to fast-paced. Couples cheered in their drunken haze, hurrying to the dance floor to do the most outlandish dance moves you have ever seen. It was exciting to say the least and you couldn't help but laugh, wishing you could join them on the dance floor.

Noticing your new found excitement, Alastor stood up from the table, "Care for a bit of the Charleston, my dear?" Alastor suggested, the upbeat rhythm of the music pulsating through the club.

As Alastor extended his hand, inviting you to join him for the lively dance, a flicker of uncertainty crossed your eyes. The fast-paced, energetic dance was vastly different from the graceful waltzes you were accustomed to. At that a wave of shyness washes over you.

"I must confess," you admitted with a shy smile, "I've only ever danced the waltz. Other dance moves are not exactly seen as… ladylike."

Instead of pushing, Alastor offered a reassuring smile.

"Well, my dear, tonight is about breaking away from tradition and embracing the unexpected. Let's make tonight a dance to remember."

Encouraged by his words, you took a deep breath to find your confidence, allowing Alastor to guide you into the heart of the lively dance floor. As the vibrant jazz music played, you hesitantly followed his lead, attempting the steps of the Charleston. Alastor's patient guidance and enthusiasm gradually eased your nerves, and soon enough, you found yourself swept up away in the joyful dance.

The jazz club became a haven, a place where your worries were melted away. As you twirled and spun with Alastor, you discovered a newfound freedom in embracing different dance styles. Laughter bubbled up, and the initial shyness transformed into an exhilarating sense of freedom.

"Thank you for this, I suppose I did need the escape," you confessed, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you raise your glass. "I’m glad to have met you Alastor."

Alastor's eyes held a warmth that mirrored the sentiment and as the night unfolded, Alastor's mysterious charm seemed to intensify. After the spirited Charleston dance, he excused himself with a playful glint in his eyes, leaving you alone in the midst of the joyful chaos.

"I'll be back in just a moment, my dear," Alastor promised with a charismatic smile, a faint air of mystery surrounding his departure.

You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, the jazz music continuing to pulse through the club. The energy of the dance floor seemed to heighten in his absence, and you found yourself standing alone, surrounded by the laughter and movement of the other couples.

Time passed, and as the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to an hour, you realized that Alastor's promise of returning might not be true.

A mix of emotions washed over you – a blend of disappointment and concern. You scanned the crowded dance floor and cozy corners of the club, but there was no sign of Alastor. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and you were left standing alone, thinking of what to do next. Had you been so stupid in believing you could find a charming man with just the snap of your fingers?

You decided to leave and face the more familiar, if not comforting, atmosphere of the night.

Upon returning home, your eyes welled up with tears, a mixture of disappointment and the frustration of having allowed yourself to be swept away by the night's excitement. The elegant facade you presented to the world cracked, revealing vulnerability.

Your mother, ever watchful and concerned, hurried over to the entrance hall noticing the distress on your face as you entered the house. The delicate mask of composure you wore during the night shattered in that moment, replaced by a glimpse of the real emotions beneath.

"Where have you been? What happened?" your mother inquired, her tone a mix of worry and disapproval, “And returning so late, have you forgotten that there is a killer on the loose?”

In a trembling voice, you explained the evening's events from the Charleston dance and Alastor's mysterious departure. There was no point in hiding it from your mother when she had eyes and ears everywhere. It would only come to her ears eventually.

Your mother, unimpressed, scolded you for venturing into unfamiliar places and allowing yourself to be misled.

"You should have known better than to let a stranger take you away like that! This is not how a lady conducts herself, especially a Duvalier! Are you sure no one saw you together? You could ruin yourself with this! Stupid girl," she chastised.

The scolding words stung, and tears rolled down your cheeks. You rushed up the stairs to your room, seeking solace in the sanctuary of your room.

Behind the closed door, you allowed yourself to release the pent-up emotions. You slid down the door as the echoes of the jazz club were now replaced by the quiet sobs that filled the room. It was harsh reality to face that your wishful thinking had could have blinded you from someone who wanted nothing but moment of company.

You brought your knees to your chest, your fingertips gripping into your arms so harshly in frustration as you realize that you never should have let him help you. Better yet, you never should have danced with him.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

Be sure to leave a comment & let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this story so you’re updated whenever I drop a new chapter! xo