#i would be anyone without your help and kind words đ„Čđ
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50 FOLLOWERSS?! AKSKSJSKJE OMG OMG IDK EVEN KNOW HOW OR WHAT TO DO TO THANK YOU ALL... đ„ș
i know that i don't post any drawing these days but my motivation dissapear- UNTIL I SAW THAT SKSNKAJSKSJA đ seruously thank you so much, i don't deserve you guys fr đ„Čđ
Gonna finish some drawings about valentines day and "Carnaval" rn thanks- đđ
Have silly gelly bunnies <3
#50 followers#omggg#THANK YOU ALL#i would be anyone without your help and kind words đ„Čđ#text post#rib says something#LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEE FOR YOU ALL THANK YOUU
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đŁïž EVEN HIS BONES WERE BETTER THAN OTHER PEOPLEâS.
Oh my gosh Hazel⊠I can feel how close weâre getting to the BIG WORD and I thought Iâd be more prepared but Iâm really not⊠This chapter was the sugar we needed after the last one (even though Ephi is⊠abrasive, to say the least lmao). Which only makes my love for Ruth more fierce! I loved seeing Autumn just gab with a friend đ„čâ„ïž
⧠⧠⧠⧠⧠⧠  ⧠  ⧠⧠⧠⧠⧠â§
A deep sigh from her, âStill last to be picked by the fellas, sis?â Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, âThe ugly duckling was always your favorite story.â
damn is EVERYTHING out of this girlâs mouth backhanded?? my older sister dominance is itching to draw the line lmao
Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty.
this hit me like a fucking train oh my godddd
Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.
Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself.Â
OHHH FUCK IâM TEARING UP đ„Čâ„ïž
Youâd tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again.
LMAOOO yeah Iâd wanna avoid Brenda if I could, too
A random memory flashed behind your eyes, washing Alastorâs hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value.Â
HAZEL OH MY GOD đ„Č
Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed.
THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT. DAAAAMNNN đâ€ïžâđ„
She nodded enthusiastically,ââYes! Of course. Donât forget a name like his. Or face.â She whistled like a crude man trying to get a womanâs attention in the most annoying way.
Is Ruth one of us, or are we Ruth? Or the âsecretâ third option: weâre all the ouroboros of desire for Alastor
An abrupt laugh, âThat string bean couldnât open a heavy window. He didnât do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.â
RUTH!! đđ Donât judge a book by its cover, huh?
The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.
you need to stop it with this (please donât stop)
âAnd heâs terribly kind. Heâs always,â how to say it delicately, âgoing out of his way to help others solve their problems.â That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, âHis face lights up so bright when heâs talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul shining through his eyes and suddenly Iâm just as interested in whatever heâs talking about as he is.â You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, âWhat?â
THIS ENTIRE THING IS JUST PURE, CONCENTRATED DREAMYYY
Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didnât hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?
ONE FEAR! ONE FEAR!! ONE FEAR!!!
âIs that all men are to you? Sex?â She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth.Â
sighhh I love Ruth đâš
But â he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.
ainât that the fucking truth đźâđš
Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him.Â
THIS GORGEOUS, HEART-WRENCHING TEE UP
A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.
AND THE KNOCK OUT OF THE PARK. GOD DAMNNN
You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing youâd ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had âŠ. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.
Iâm trying so hard to hold myself together but youâre making it very difficult my dear đ« â„ïž
As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would leave, thatâd beâŠ.nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love?Â
WHAT DID I LITERALLY JUST SAY?? đ„Čđ«
When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. What were you doing in this manâs car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?
TEARS ARE BURNING MY EYES AS I TYPE THIS FUUUCKKKK
Youâd have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.
I AM SO FUCKING WEAK⊠SOOO FUCKING WEAK FOR THIS MAN
âKind of funny, you chased me down, didnât you?â Alastorâs comment pulled you back to him.
âOh yes. That makes you my doe.â Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. âReminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.â
âMy mighty buck!â He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. âWell given the chance, Iâd chase you for miles.â His hand flexed on your leg.
âŠyou already know this whole thing is too powerful. I donât even have to say it. Not a single thingâŠ
âThere is no limit. Iâd ⊠run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.â He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession.Â
Your melodrama matches my melodrama, Alastor đâ„ïž ughh the baby steps toward confession are agonizing, so thank god for my masochistic streak đ
đ»
âNope! Thatâd make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.â A wink. âWhy run from such a catch like me?â
THE WAY HEâS NOT WRONG THOOO
You hadnât made him run after all for you, but instead seemed to justâŠ.rest your neck between his canines. And trust.Â
you are really tapping into some of my deep-seeded needs, JESUS CHRISTTT
Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him.Â
I REALLY FUCKING CANâT WITH YOU HAZEL â I AM A MESS
But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, heâd be a richer man in hell than heâd ever been on earth. Itâd be enough. Heâd just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.
to quote an icon: IâLL REMEMBER YOU ALL IN THERAPY
A Doe in Fall (Part 9)
âąHumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fanâ by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smutđŠ Part 2 - Liar smutđŠ Part 3 - A Tragedy smutđŠ Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smutđŠ Part 7 - Recognition smutđŠ Part 8 - Trust sexual đ„”
Part 9 - Shiny Things
Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.
ăWarnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I donât think reader is Aromantic I think sheâs just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking readerâs ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a wholeă
Long time no see ! My head wasnât in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since Iâm writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ thereâs about four parts already written so weâve got a month of runway đđŒ Wednesday mornings are âGod, Thatâs Goodâ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!
đ¶ last time on A Doe In Fall đ¶ : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastorâs to find our estranged sister waiting on your stoop.
this isnât sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop
Itâs not that you hated your sister, itâs that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce⊠but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman.Â
âSo things didnât pan out up north?â You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm.Â
âItâs peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.â She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. âWow you werenât lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.â
Charming.Â
âWell, Ephi, youâre welcome to leave.â While you didnât understand the name it wasnât your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.
An obnoxious chuckle, âNah itâll do! Just the one single bed?â
âWhy would I have more than one bed?â
A deep sigh from her, âStill last to be picked by the fellas, sis?â Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, âThe ugly duckling was always your favorite story.â
The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a catâs hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her?Â
The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.
How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldnât win, because she wasnât listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.
âYou can take it. Iâll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.â Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?
Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. âStaying with Mister Fancy Pants?â A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, âI wonât tell mom!â Right before turning and running to your motherâs ear.
âNo.âÂ
A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, âSure, okay! No skin off my back.â
You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didnât want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.
An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction.Â
Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that.Â
âHowâs Howard?â The dick that took her away so many years ago.
She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, âWhoâs that?â
Right.
A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock.Â
âSo, then, who is the man of the hour?â
Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. âWhaddya mean! I am an independent woman.â
You werenât sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse stringsâŠ) at the feet of any man willing to love her.Â
âLoveâ her.Â
There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.
Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.
Your hands ran down the bagâs shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself.Â
Secrets you didnât need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldnât hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.
Youâd tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move.Â
Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door.Â
A random memory flashed behind your eyes, washing Alastorâs hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value.Â
âHey, if any men come by looking for me you just donât answer, okay?â You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, âPlease, Ephi.â
Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, âOoh, why? Little sister make some enemies?â
Why couldnât she just fucking agree?
âMy job sometimes attracts crazies. I donât tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. Theyâve gotten violent before soâŠjust donât answer the buzzer. Theyâll say theyâre damn near anyone to get you to let them up.â You stopped the nervous twisting of your bagâs handle, âBoyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.â
âAww, sis. Look at you.â She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. âStalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a manâs attention.â
The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response.Â
âLovely to see your new name hasnât changed you, Ephi. Iâll be back occasionally. Donât steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.âÂ
âOh hey!âÂ
You turned back.
âI do need some cash. Until I find work.â
The numbness blanketed you with a chill.Â
âIâve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?â
Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasnât fine and youâd be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, thatâs what youâd have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers.Â
She mulled it over, âYeah thatâll be fine.â Her hand came out and waited for the bills.
An open palm waiting for your money.
You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin.Â
âThanks sis!â She turned and closed the door before you could reply.
⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . âŠ
The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.
âYouâŠ. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?â
A quick shake of your head. You hadnât considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasnât very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up.Â
A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, âCigarette?â
You melted at the offer. Alastor wasnât a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back.Â
She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.
âAlright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?â Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.
You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? Youâd not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off.Â
âSo remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.â
She nodded enthusiastically, âYes! Of course. Donât forget a name like his. Or face.â She whistled like a crude man trying to get a womanâs attention in the most annoying way.
âThe detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,â you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms.Â
An abrupt laugh, âThat string bean couldnât open a heavy window. He didnât do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.â
Did she notice how much youâd been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. âExactly! He doesnât even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommyâs arrangement; itâs too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I donât wanna cause trouble.â You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, âStuff is still new with him and me, so I didnât tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?â The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.
âFair.â A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, âDidnât realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one youâve kept for awhile now.â
Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. âYeah.â
She asked what made him so special and you didnât know where to start. âThe obvious,â you began. âHeâs so-,â
âClever.â âHandsome.â
Youâd spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.
âClever, Ruth. Heâs very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But heâs sharp as a tack.â She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. âHeâs so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.âÂ
âUseful.â She mused. That isnât what you meant. You werenât trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was justâ impressive. He was well rounded.
âAnd heâs terribly kind. Heâs always,â how to say it delicately, âgoing out of his way to help others solve their problems.â That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, âHis face lights up so bright when heâs talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly Iâm just as interested in whatever heâs talking about as he is.â You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, âWhat?â
âYouâre in looooove,â her foot kicked yours, âI know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.â
Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? âOh donât say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. Weâre just enjoying each other's company.â When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didnât take it. âAll I was saying wasâ,â fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? âHeâs a very nice person to spend my limited time with. Itâs a finite resource and all.â
With a shrug she took another puff, âWhatâs to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.â
Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didnât hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?
âCheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?â
Youâd successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover youâd taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasnât appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.
Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners.Â
âIf you fall hard enough, you donât get back up.â She said it like it was a good thing. âYouâll love them forever, even if you hate em.â
That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.
You shivered, âThat sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.â
âAah,â she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, âFor the right man, youâll find yourself enjoying the trip down!âÂ
âNah, Iâm not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.â
âIs that all men are to you? Sex?â She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth.Â
But, Yes.
Well. No . But â he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.
Or, fine.Â
Yes, he was a man.Â
No, you didnât see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, youâd just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.
When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didnât accept that currency. You couldnât hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what youâd ever had before.Â
Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him.Â
A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.
âYou really donât think youâre falling for him?â Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.
The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, âI donât wanna think about it. Iâll get scared and run away. Heâll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, itâll happen. Iâll just⊠let it. Why ruin it with⊠saying childish things.â
âYouâre naive but thatâs okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.â
Your eyes rolled, âWhat if he doesnât feel the same? Why embarrass myself.â When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him heâd just end things sooner than they would have naturally.
âDontcha wanna know if heâs a waste of that precious time, then?â
You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing youâd ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had âŠ. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.
You could only shake your head, âWait, Ruth, didnât you get divorced?â
âShhh that doesnât count!â She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, âPlus thatâs how I know what Iâm talking about! After the honeymoon phase? Youâll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.â
As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, thatâd beâŠ.nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love?Â
And did that matter at all?Â
Youâd thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words.Â
Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours.Â
A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadnât felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out âcomfortableâ shoes.
Alastorâs eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, âAlready moving in?â
He realized quickly enough that wasnât a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant.Â
âEverything okay, dear?â He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.
Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens?Â
When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other peopleâs. What were you doing in this manâs car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?
No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.
Youâd have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.
He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely.Â
The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge.Â
âThe bucks chase the does. Itâs part of their mating ritual. I guess itâs not unlike the âplaying hard to getâ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.â
You laughed, âWomen donât like it, I donât think. Well, some do I am sure but⊠If we donât do that then people think weâre easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didnât really want to and save some face.â
Alastor grimaced, âGross.â
Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe.Â
âKind of funny, you chased me down, didnât you?â Alastorâs comment pulled you back to him.
âOh yes. That makes you my doe.â Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. âReminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.â
âMy mighty buck!â He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. âWell given the chance, Iâd chase you for miles.â His hand flexed on your leg.
âTo Texas?â You asked. Your usual end point.
âFurther.â
âHow far?â
âThere is no limit. Iâd ⊠run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.â He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession.Â
The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, youâd justâŠgive yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. âAnd if I just⊠lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?â
âNope! Thatâd make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.â A wink. âWhy run from such a catch like me?â
You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful.Â
A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others.Â
The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them. Â
âDonât actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, donât you dare follow me.â
Alastor just laughed, wasnât that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasnât expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know heâd reciprocate the fall. You hadnât made him run after you, but instead seemed to justâŠ.rest your neck between his canines. And trust.Â
If you were to go to heaven, he wasnât sure what heâd do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.
Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him.Â
Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below.Â
But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, heâd be a richer man in hell than heâd ever been on earth. Itâd be enough.Â
Heâd just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.
â
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#I AM UNWELL#THE LOVE HERE YET TO BE SPOKEN INTO REALITY IS MAKING ME UNWELL#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#x reader#hazbin hotel fan fiction#article by mink
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