I may be cringe, but I am free

Call me Trish, like fish 🐠🐟 AroAce ♠️ Old enough to remember buttons on phones 📱 Stupid in three languages 🧠 Toss a Coin to Your Witcher - buymeacoffee.com/TrishLikeFish 🪙

[f-ing-another-account]

Bonsoir mes petits choux!

So I'm still looking for a job but in the meantime I've got a nice gig. It will last a few days and unfortunately for it I have to go to Paris. I'm not the biggest fan of Paris but money is money. I haven't been there since I was a kid.

I have a human!Alastor X fem!reader one- shot in works. It is set in the "we have so much to say" universe but it can be read as a stand alone thing.

[f-ing-another-account]

So no posts in May. I might start a new month with info:

✨I lost my job today✨

Recently I wasn't in the mood for writing anything. Besides I think I bit a bit more than I can chew with the "we have so much to say and we shall never say it" series. I will try to finish it but it's more likely that a shorter one-shot will appear before the next part. I've got anxious over it and how it doesn't live up to how I imagine it.

Life sucks right now.

But I will be fine.

I always am.

[f-ing-another-account]

Shit my mom asked me as Alasotor and Vox conversation

Alastor: So what is "Heated Rivalry" about?

Vox: * spits out water while wondering where Alastor heard about it *

[f-ing-another-account]

So I had the strangest dream tonight.

Basically a Hazbin episode in which Velvette and Alastor got together in some shenanigans and you could tell that they were forming a familiar bond. At one point they were in a stereotypical romantic setting, y'know like the little mermaid 'kiss the girl' kind of thing. They both looked bamboozled but decided to go along with it and made out and once they parted Velvette looked at Alastor and said that she's definitely a lesbian and Alastor was relieved since he said it didn't do much to him and he was afraid she'd want something more.

[f-ing-another-account]

Conversation that happened to me in a lift as shit Vox would say

Vox: *sliding closer to you to look as smug as possible* Sooooo... You're French! I'm also French

You: ...I-

Vox: Well, Canadian french American...

You: So you're Québécois?

Vox: Well, no-

You: Tu parlais français?

Vox: Well, no. My mother's maiden name is French-sounding.

You:...

Vox: Bonjour.

You: I'm not French, I'm just wearing a beret.

[i-worship-the-radio-demon]

Alastor Natal Chart + Interpretation (fanmade)

Fair warning this might be a bit messy and long since I have a lot of things to explain

Post inspired by @thewhaledreamer and @youthinkaboutme-yourradiodemon

Disclaimers:

- I tried to be as objective as possible but alas astrology is kinda subjective

- I am not a professional

- This should not be treated as the only correct answer

Preliminary stuff:

I have done a lot of research about this beforehand to see what folks think about him. I found some interesting opinions, and there was a consensus of the most likely signs to represent him: Gemini, Capricorn, Sagittarius, Aquarius, Scorpio, and even Leo and Libra. (Wrote these in order of popularity) But for the most part, the lovely folk of the hellaverse consider him a Gemini. Honestly, I feel like every opinion is valid because there is some sort of intuition going on behind it. While I do agree on the Gemini thing, my organization of things might seem a bit peculiar, so bear with me.

First of all, a rooster of the placements and their meanings:

Sun - extroverted part of the personality, the one that is seen and felt in the world

Moon - introverted part of the personality, the inner dialogue only the individual is aware of

Ascendant - overall vibe, looks and social hook

Mercury - intelligence and communication

Venus - love and relationships

Mars - anger, dynamism and sexuality

Phew. With all of that out of the way, let's go!

1. Sun sign = Aquarius

This was the most important one to decide on because the sun sign limits the placements of the other ones, so I had to make a huge commitment here lmao. Before you yell at me, let me explain!

I did not make him a Gemini because I strongly believe Gemini fits more as a moon sign for him. (Will explain later.)

Reasons for choosing Aquarius: intelligence, struggles with social unfairness, detachment, sensitive ego, desire for superiority, constant rebelling, living by his own rules, independence and overall weirdness

I don't think I have to explain to anyone that Alastor is intelligent, because it's obvious he has that "I'm one step ahead of everyone" kinda persona. But he has a weakness - and it's his ego. While Leo is the one usually associated with the ego, Aquarius is the sister sign, and has equal struggles when it comes to the ego. They are usually sensitive to feeling weak, suffocated and underestimated. Alastor is usually composed and refined, but he only really flips out when someone threatens his ego. (Obviously it's a superiority complex hiding his inferiority complex developed from past trauma, but yeah.)

Talking about trauma, I don't want to delve too deep into this topic because I don't want to be misunderstood here (😭) the only thing I want to point out here is that Aquarius is the humanitarian sign, that feels social injustice on a level no other sign does, and it seems like a good thematic match for him. (Especially since he seems to have a sort of morality to his killings, only going for racist white men and stuff.) He killed when things were unfair, not only to him personally, but from a social (?) point of view. All in all, Al hates being belittled and so he will fight back against anything that makes his ego feel powerless.

On the topic of intelligence, since Aquarius is a male sign, it prefers logic over emotion, it prefers a certain distance to observe, analyze and figure out people. They tend to study people and pick them apart, almost like someone were to conduct a science experiment. (Really immature and toxic Aquarius tends to actually play God in their social circles.)

(Aquarius pls I love you all I am not tryna to do slander here)

Aquarius tends to have this sense of being different and special, inborn. They fight hard to maintain that, to remain their own unique selves even if that means outcasting themselves. And also, we're emotionally constipated. (Not every Aquarius is the same, but more on that later.) The stoic face is pretty common, the hyper independence and the mentality of 'i don't need anyone by my side, I am self sufficient'.

As we can notice, Alastor hates the notion of depending on others, asking for help, and obeying. He rebelled against Rosie and was like 'oop' lmao. The thing Aquarius hates the most in this world is feeling like they are on a leash, like they have to fit into a certain mold. They, along with Sagittarius and Gemini, are usually the bosses of 'I'm doing something extremely weird but I'm acting so normal about it, what you mean, this is how I live'. Literally will not bat an eye, he lives life according to the reality he has created for himself in his own head and won't think he's weird lol

Aquarius also rules the 11th house, aka the house of society. But it's not social maneuvering as much as Gemini or Libra, it's more about social integrity and wellbeing, so to Alastor it's not about pleasing people and being integrated, it's more about shaping society to his own ideals and expectations. (And to some degree, getting rid of the things that obstruct him from having his ideal). Also another point is that the only thing that really broke the sadistic facade he has was feeling connected to a group. (End of season 1)

Another and the final reason why I chose Aquarius as his sun sign is because World Radio Day is on February 13th, which also happens to land in the Aquarius timeframe. I think it's very fitting and it would be a very cool fanon birthday for him!

2. Moon sign = Gemini

Gemini needs to be part of his natal chart, and that is extremely obvious. However, the moon sign is perhaps the most important placement in a chart, and that's why Gemini needs to go here. A Gemini moon can explain the rapid switch between personas, the social maneuvering and the talent for communication and performance.

From my own experience, talents usually manifest more in regards to the moon sign.

Gemini is the sign of intelligence and communication, so of course it makes a lot of sense that he'd get his knack for radio hosting, that social intelligence and word manipulation from a Gemini placement.

That's also his inner world. A world that is logical, overwhelming, full of perspectives. Paired with Aquarius, he can also become very creative.

I am gonna say it once and say it now, I don't believe in the whole "two faced Gemini" thing. As a mutable sign, Gemini is definitely moody and can have mood swings, but that doesn't define their personality as "ever changing", just more... Depending on the day. From my own experience Gemini behavior depends on mood, headspace and circumstances. Which I find pretty normal lol because I feel we're all performing to a certain degree in different circumstances. But my point is, Alastor has a complex personality that does seem to manifest as an eccentric switch - the killer vs the performer. I am sure that's not the only side he has though, because he's also been seen as a friend, a son, a defeated man, so on and so forth. He's very interesting when he feels cornered.

3. Ascendant = Taurus

Now, an Aquarius sun and a Gemini moon would create a very airheaded individual. While Alastor can seem somewhat of a quirky loopy jokester, he actually prides himself in control and stability. Therefore, he needed to be grounded. Taurus felt like a perfect match because of many reasons.

Taurus is a stable, calm sign. It is the sign of roots: family roots, familiarity. Alastor not only is seemingly still stuck in his past, his family and trauma, but he also brought his entire human life down in hell with him, including his bayou, his radio tower, and many other details that created him that sense of familiarity and safety. He never really let go of things, you see. No matter how much he built himself in hell, when he enters his room, he's back in his own world.

On top of that, Taurus is ruled by Venus, the planet of beauty. Alastor is very refined, always dressed well and with proper manners. That gives very much Venus to me, so Taurus came instinctually. He cares about appearances and he always had. (Also he's handsome lol)

Taurus is also about the other senses. The most sensual sign, sensory pleasure - appearance, smell, taste etc. The fine pleasures in life. He's associated with food, a good cook, always making sure that what he consumes is something that brings him joy.

Also, there's the romantic tone to him. (Not as in relationship romance, more of the whimsy type.) He has his own whimsy style of life, with dining and flowers and all of that. I'm sure he lives life in his own whimsy way 😂

4. Mercury = Aquarius

I was actually very confused about this one, torn between Aquarius and Capricorn. A Capricorn mercury would give him a very composed and life smart intelligence and communication style, which would make sense concerning his deal making. However, I couldn't help but think there is also a kind of quirkiness and unpredictability to his thinking that doesn't quite match with that. (he's literally the definition of don't let 'em know your next move lmao)

The thing that most defined my choice was the word play he beat Vox with. That reminded me of the many times he thought outside the box, making decisions that were totally off the grid that no one expected and somehow worked out in his favour.

Combined with his Gemini moon, this placement creates a fun, quirky and eccentric individual with creative insights and unpredictable ideas.

5. Venus = Capricorn

Now, the sun sign constricts the choices for Venus since it cannot be many placements away from the sun sign. And realistically speaking, getting a Cap Venus on Feb 13th is kinda hard, but regardless this is fiction 🤣

If I wasn't constricted I'd probably would have said Cancer Venus, and therefore its sister sign Capricorn is my best option. Capricorn is still family concerned, and it actually represents father issues. (If we're going off the popular fan theories about his dad and the fact that Alastor is confirmed to dislike men.)

Capricorn placements are known for being very selective and organized, they do not waste their time on people that do not meet their requirements. They're all about efficiency and proper planning. When it comes to relationships, sometimes they can see them as a give and take situation, like a trade exchange (which hits home for him!) Of course that doesn't mean they cannot form close connections, since they are actually very good caretakers! (And father figures!)

Combined with his Gemini moon and his Aquarius sun, this means Alastor definitely needs intellectual stimulation first and foremost in order to feel slightly interested in someone. He needs someone special, smart, dedicated, fun and communicative; and most importantly someone who will not try to stop him, hold him back or belittle him. A good thing is Cap Venus placements are very loyal and their bonds last a lifetime.

For Alastor, which is built pretty logic heavy so far, it is actually pretty normal to have relationships that are more professional and detached, where he keeps his control over his own person.

6. Mars = Scorpio

I had to create some intensity within his chart, and this seemed like the most obvious choice. Capricorn brings a sense of determination, Taurus being the sister sign of Scorpio is also intense and protective - and Scorpio brings the spice.

Mars being the sign of anger and violence, when it is in Scorpio it actually means a non-immediate anger response. For the most part, Alastor doesn't react to things immediately unless his ego is being threatened. When it comes to other things, he rather observes, plays the field, plans and strikes when he can hit the hardest. That is very Scorpio Mars, actually. On top of that, this placement is also associated with revenge, especially if it's a smart type of revenge.

On the topic of sexuality, Scorpio Mars is usually seen as a promiscuous placement, but I don't think so, personally. Scorpio has a lot of walls up, they are suspicious of people and will not admit vulnerability in front of people unless that person is 100% trustworthy to them. (See the pattern here?) Therefore, in combination with the Cap Venus and the air signs, there is a gigantic wall here when it comes to connection. Attraction is definitely not a 'light' discussion here, and even platonic connection needs to survive many trials.

----

This placement may also bring some sado-masochism to the mix, which was needed to truly complete the mix.

A little something extra

I have read Andre Barbault's book about the Aquarius (Humanitas, 2002) and he made a couple interesting points there:

1. The Aquarius is usually associated with Lucifer, the fallen angel, because of his attempts to be revolutionary and different, rebelling against God - which would make our Lucifer an Aquarius too, theoretically

2. Barbault argues there are two types of Aquarius - the pure (ruled by Saturn) and the rebel (ruled by Uranus). He argues the pure is the one is the one that lives life in a spiritual plane, detached and aloof (Lucifer) and the rebel is the one that uses eccentricity and psychological shock in order to have control and effect (Alastor)

I just thought this would be interesting because it kinda made me see Alastor's and Lucifer's fighting in a new light lmao

Overall, the way that I constructed this natal chart was to create this complexity and distance between a fun, charming performer and a distant mastermind, while also leaving some room for sensitivity. I've chosen a lot of placements that tend to be self protective, to try and really enunciate the fact that he is not a heartless bastard, he's actually just protecting himself. (Or at least that's how I see it.)

I hope I did him justice 😭

There are probably a million things I have forgotten to explain or bring up, maybe I'll complete the analysis sometime later because I've been driving myself mad with how long I've been brooding over this post 🤣

Also! Please know I do not intend to insult any astrology sign or placement, I hope I didn't offend anyone, because I don't think there is such a thing as an 'evil' sign or some stereotypical bullshit like that.

If you actually read this far, you deserve a cookie. 🍪

Discussions are open in the comments but remember, be nice! ❤️

[f-ing-another-account]

This is such a nice and well thought out analysis! I might use it in the future writing.

[f-ing-another-account]

We have so much to say, and we shall never say it - Chapter 6 (human!Alastor x human!fem!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Synopsis: Chapter 6, in which Alastor and his favourite nurse get caught, and George and Alastor have a talk.

Tw: none

A/N: This is a short one since I couldn't find a better spot to end this chapter while writing. This is also the cursed one that causes a power outage. Twice. I hope that the next part will be sooner, as I already have some of it written down.

fem!Reader x Alastor, 3rd person pov, no y/n, no ‘you’, Alastor is AroAce and it's written with queer platonic relationship in mind.

It was still dark when George shook Alastor awake. Groggy, Alastor fixed his glasses and wiped a bit of drool from his mouth. The nurse was still asleep beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as she breathed quietly. She looked peaceful and happy, and the sight made him smile. For a moment, she really did look like an angel from a church painting. Then George’s interruption broke the calm.

“Ya might want to wake her up before the sun rises, lover boy! You’re lucky I woke up in time to let you sneak her out. The head nurse would certainly not appreciate one of her angels sleeping with a patient. You could test how well your arm healed by carrying her, but letting you into the nurses' quarters would be like inviting a fox to a chicken coop. So wake up the sleeping beauty and send her on her way; you two will surely see one another in just a few hours.”

Alastor blushed at the insinuation. No matter how many times he told George that Alastor was the farthest thing from a seducer, George didn’t listen. It didn’t help that many nurses genuinely enjoyed Alastor's charming personality. At this point, Alastor gave up on trying to correct his neighbour; George’s mind was set. Besides, George would be sent home soon. Alastor himself would be back in the trenches in a week. There was no point in explaining minor things to someone he would never see in his life. But Alastor would also bid farewell to his favourite nurse. Why did he care about never seeing her again? Alastor didn’t want her to disappear from his life. He wanted to keep her and had to figure out if she wanted to keep him as well. But with the nurse snuggling in his neck, that sunny smile on her face, Alastor had a hunch the feeling was mutual.

Alastor fixed a lone lock of hair that strayed away from the nurse's cap and put it behind her ear, then he shook her slightly until she woke up. She opened her eyes slowly, still lethargic from her sleep, and looked at Alastor in a way that everyone wants to be looked at. Pure happiness and adoration on her face made Alastor want to keep it in a bottle to come back to during dark days. At least that was the case before she heard Alastor speak his next words.

“You might want to get up and return to the nurses’ barracks. If the head nurse finds you here with me, it will be both our heads, I’m afraid.”

While neither George nor Alastor cared for social conventions, at least they didn’t care as much as society did; the good name of the angel was at stake. The head nurse, who is also a nun, would forbid her from visiting her favourite patient if she discovered them in such an intimate position. She might even take her off the recovery ward duty and send her to the appointment section! Section smelling like old blood, full of moans and screams, where patients await their judgment. In this place, life and death lie in the hands of the triage medics. Probably the worst ward to work in, besides the quarantine ward.

Alastor laughed a bit at his companion’s shocked expression; she looked like a deer in headlights. Her hand instantly left his palm as she moved away from his body, clearly surprised that she had fallen asleep here in the first place. She got up in a hurry, straightened her skirt and apron, and quickly bid farewell to the men before leaving for her quarters.

With a little smile, Alastor kept on looking at the closed door she had left through just a few seconds ago. Slowly, the soft, warm feeling started to leave him, and it brought out this annoying thought from the back of his mind - How to keep her?

Before his mind could elaborate further, he heard the familiar raspy voice one more time.

“Parting is such a sweet sorrow, eh Romeo?”

Alastor turned to George with an annoyed expression and answered:

“Since when do YOU know Shakespeare?”

George’s smile dropped a little, and he turned away his face from Alastor a bit. He couldn’t look him in the eyes. George nervously grabbed his blanket and slowly answered in a quiet voice. The kind that Alastor has never seen him use before.

“My son, a smart lad, used to read a lot. He was a student before the war, the smartest lad in my whole family. His ma and I were very proud of him. He died in 1915 from the Spanish flu in a military hospital. There is not a single day since that cursed year that I don’t feel empty inside. His older sister, my daughter, is the only child I have left.”

Even with poor light, Alastor could see that George wiped a tear from his eye. He then slowly looked at Alastor one more time and continued:

“You remind me of him a lot. Perhaps that’s why I took an immediate liking to you. Your father must be really proud of you.”

The last sentence struck a nerve inside of Alastor. While he suspected that George held some kind of paternal feeling for him, the topic of his own father was one Alastor avoided. It was Alastor's turn to turn away from the eye contact with a frown. He grabbed his itchy blanket and suddenly found a lone thread very interesting as he fidgeted with it.

It didn’t escape George’s attention as the Englishman asked with a quiet, sad voice.

“Your father wasn’t of the teaching sort, I presume?”

Alastor just took off his glasses, put them on the nightstand, and turned off the paraffin lamp. He lay down with his back facing George, and he covered himself with the woolen blanket. Maybe he will get to catch some sleep before someone starts screaming again. Before closing his eyes, he just said one last word:

“Correct.”

It didn’t take long for both men to fall asleep again. That night, Alastor dreamed of a woman in a blue dress, walking with him down the French Quarter in New Orleans. But was it his mother or a nurse? He couldn’t tell. He woke up feeling peaceful, which was rare since he had come to Europe.

[f-ing-another-account]

Me as a student waiting for a teacher: *please don't show up please don't show up please don't show up*

Me now as a teacher waiting for my students: *please don't show up please don't show up please don't show up*

[f-ing-another-account]

Ok at this point it is not even funny. Another sudden power outage.

The next chapter IS cursed.

[f-ing-another-account]

I think I am cursed at this point. I sat down to write today and then the power went out for four hours. Now when it's up and running again I have to go to work. Great.

[f-ing-another-account]

Alastor sneezes like a kitten. Even in his demon form he has the cutest, the sweetest and the most gentle "achoo" you've ever heard.

He absolutely hates it.

Still, it's adorable.

[f-ing-another-account]

Bon nuit mes petits choux!

I'm alive, though I am sick. My job has been killing me recently but I should be able to get back to writing soon. I have the whole plot of "We have so much to say and we shall never say it" figured out by now. I can tell you there will be murder, party, old school french saying refrence and some drama.

Stay tuned!

[f-ing-another-account]

We have so much to say, and we shall never say it - Chapter 5 (human!Alastor x human!fem!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Synopsis: Chapter 5, in which Alastor and his favourite nurse share a night together, and Alastor makes an offer.

This one can be read as a stand alone one-shot.

TW: none, this one if pure fluff

fem!Reader x Alastor, 3rd person pov, no y/n, no ‘you’, Alastor is AroAce and it's written with queer platonic relationship in mind.

Alastor laughed quietly in the dim light of a lone paraffin lamp. The oil's faint scent mixed with the unmistakable tang of antiseptic that lingered through the hospital at night, creating a haze that clung to his clothes and hair. It has been over a month since he and his favourite angel started their nighttime meetings. He did notice that since he discovered her little secret, she has been visiting him outside of her nighttime activities. Her visits didn’t end with the death of a patient, not anymore. Not that he minded, or was going to point out how she slipped into his room late at night just to share quiet company. She was fun to be around, especially since he was going back to the trenches soon. The rough wool of his blanket scratched at his forearms, a reminder that his wound had healed enough for him to be released. He looked at the familiar blue dress, white hat, and neat white apron. While the uniform was the same for all nurses, Alastor thought she looked more pleasant than the others. Perhaps it was the way the soft lamplight played on her face, or maybe it was the luminous smile he had grown to adore. She was far more at ease with him now. Instead of the rigid posture from their first night encounter, she sprawled comfortably across his bed, hands folded behind her head as a makeshift pillow. Her feet dangled from the bed, kicking happily as she told him a story of her first days during her nursing training. Even in the weak glow, Alastor could spot her scuffed leather shoes and a glimpse of her petticoat peeking from her blue dress. She didn’t care, knowing he wasn’t one for ogling. She felt safe around him. He could tell it by the soft touches, light laughter, and all the time she spent with him at night, and he appreciated it.

“Aren’t you afraid of waking up the new guy? He definitely would tell on you to the head nurse.” Alastor asked while still giggling. The prank she pulled on a head nurse during those early days was quite funny. The last-minute switch of scalpels for spoons during the inspection cemented her position as a mischief among the nurses.  One could never be certain with this gal, and Alastor loved himself some entertaining unpredictability.

“Oh! Please! I’ve given this guy enough melatonin in his tea that he will sleep through shelling if it happens here!” She lightly kicked his neighbour with the tip of her shoe to prove the point. The new arrival in Nam’s old bed was a real pain for nurses and patients alike.

“If it’s George you’re worried about, I’d say he would have enough decency to pretend to be asleep if he caught us. Your turn, Mr. Tell me something about yourself that I never would have guessed.” She continued pointing at sleeping George, whose back was turned to them.

Alastor thought for a second about what was harmless enough, yet entertaining, that he could tell her without spoiling the casual atmosphere of their rendezvous.

“I really like roses, they are my favourite flowers. I remember one time when I snuck into one of my neighbours' gardens to collect roses. I was twelve years old at most, mind you. She had the most beautiful ones, but her garden was guarded by a ferocious beast. I was quick and sneaky, but unfortunately, the beast found me! On my way out, I’ve lost my glasses and a bit of my dignity to Nuage. My mom was angry, especially since Madame Aguillard is my mother dearest’s close friend. I did get my glasses back at least, and the stolen roses grew beautifully in front of my mom’s schoolhouse.”

For a second, Alastor felt like a kid again. Rascal in shorts running through his neighbourhood with other kids, playing swordfights with sticks, drinking soda, and peaking at dancers in the saloon. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Isn’t Nuage the white pomerenian you’ve mentioned before? You really are scared of dogs, if a cotton ball with legs can chase you off. Ironic considering that if it wasn’t for Prusco, you would have died that day. Saved by the very same animal you’re afraid of, how poetic.” The nurse jested as she flipped to lie on her stomach next to him.

Her legs rose up as they were kicking now above the metal frame of his bed, exposing her shins. She was almost lying alongside him in the tiny bed, how scandalous.

“I like listening about your life before all this mess,” She said while dramatically waving her hand as if she was presenting the wooden barracks to him. Her smile dropped from her face as she continued.

“I feel like I can’t remember what life was like before the war. It is like a distant dream that never happened. After years here, I suppose I can’t come back to my old life; it wouldn’t feel right.”

Alastor’s stomach twisted; he didn’t like it when her smile vanished. It felt as if the sun set down behind the horizon line, and suddenly, everything felt darker. He moved slightly to the edge of the bed to make some room for her next to him, a silent invitation. Through their shared time, he not only befriended the strange nurse but felt like she grown on him as an important part of his life. He cared about her deeper than for anyone since he arrived in Europe. She moved closer to him and sat so close that their arms were touching as both rested their backs against the metal headboard of the hospital bed. Regardless of the wooden walls of the barracks, the smell of oil and antiseptics, the atmosphere around them felt rather intimate. Never before Alastor felt such closeness to another person, neither woman nor man. Just being with her felt somehow right, and he wanted to hold on to this feeling for as long as possible. Especially now, since he was going back to the trenches in a few days. Alastor felt her head on his shoulder, and while initially it shocked him, the weight of her head on him felt rather nice. He decided to press his own head on hers as if in a small hug. He wanted to see her smile again, so he said slowly:

“I don’t know if any of us has a future to look forward to, but if it pleases you, you can have all my nights until my release.”

With a corner of his eye, he could see the familiar smile appear again on her face. Again, Alastor could swear that the Sun itself showed up and bathed the entire room in its golden rays. He wished he could catch some of this sunshine and keep it with him in a bottle for the dark days of creeping barrage.

He could see her fingers reaching for his hand and giving it a small squeeze as she responded in a sleepy voice.

“I would like that.”

Her body was soft and warm next to him, her heart rate was slowing down as she dozed off slightly with her head on his arm. To his own surprise, Alastor actually liked the closeness. Their arms touching, their fingers intertwined, and the inner peace he felt with her next to him. He didn’t want to wake her up; he didn’t want to let her go, just yet.

[mearko]

This bitch ass fucking made a card on valentines day TO HIMSELF

Im so down bad cause why is that so cute 😩😩😩😭💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[f-ing-another-account]

Honestly? Rel

I remember sending a valentine card to myself at school. I did it just for shits and giggles and because it's important to love oneself.

Very ace 🖤🩶🤍💜

[f-ing-another-account]

We have so much to say, and we shall never say it - Chapter 4 (human!Alastor x human!fem!Reader)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Synopsis: Chapter 3, in which a new patient arrives, everyone hates it, and Alastor discovers a secret.

TW: Racism, blood, murder

fem!Reader x Alastor, 3rd person pov, no y/n, no ‘you’

The next day, a new patient arrived to fill Nam’s bed. Another American, so Alastor won’t be the only ‘Yankee’ here anymore. This new guy was recovering from typhoid fever, so he had just moved from the quarantine zone. Quarantine was absolutely the worst section of the hospital, so for someone to actually leave it was a success. Alastor heard his new neighbour before he saw him. Judging by an accent, someone from the South as well. It is easy to say that thanks to the first impression the new guy made, nobody bothered to learn his name.

He started with a racial slur and a demand for a segregated barracks. Alastor already had some snarky remarks, but it turned out he didn’t have to lift a finger. All his students, with Stanislas at the front, surrounded the new arrival.

“You Shitling! Shut up! Problem with Alastor, problem with us!”

Started Stanislas, something that the ‘Shitling’ was not prepared for. It didn’t take long for George to address the situation.

“Listen up, lad, the gentleman here has been nothing but pleasant company to us. I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you; that’s definitely an uncalled for so zip your howling screamer and sit your pathetic arse down.”

Fortunately, nurses arrived and stopped the conflict before it could escalate to a fight. Unfortunately, the issue hasn’t been resolved in the long term. Shittling, as the nickname stuck to him, holds a grudge against Alastor and his posse, especially on that big oaf who appointed himself as Alastor’s bodyguard. It is safe to say that everyone hoped this one would be transferred soon, and Nam will get better and return to his bed in the barracks.

That’s what Alastor was hoping for, too, as he smoked his cigarette in the middle of the night. Cigarettes were a universal currency around here, and thanks to his teaching gig, he had enough of them to feed his nicotine addiction. Currently, he was hiding near the intensive care barracks. From what he heard from the nurses' conversation, Nam was doing badly, very badly. He suffered a lot and lost plenty of blood. Alastor had his suspicions; now he needed proof. The stakeout took a few hours, but around 2 AM, he heard steps and saw a lamp with light dimmed by a red cape. A nurse was coming, and as Alastor suspected, it was his sunshin Angel. She checked the surrounding area and entered the building. That’s when Alastor peeked at her through a small window. Everyone was asleep, and he could see she was preparing an injection. Now Alastor has seen the morphine bottle plenty of times since his arrival in the hospital; he even had it injected after he woke up, so one thing was clear to him: this wasn’t a morphine bottle. Once she finished the injection, she covered Nam’s face with a sheet; he was dead, and she just killed him.

On her way out, Alastor decided to confront her.

“I didn’t expect our sweet Angel to be a destroyer* all this time. As a firstborn son, should I be worried? “

She jumped a bit at the sound of his voice and turned slowly to face him. She looked like a deer in headlights. Her mouth was slightly open, and her wide eyes were looking at him in shock. Alastor had to admit, she looked kind of adorable in this moment. He walked closer to her and grabbed her forearm to make sure she wouldn’t run away before he finished.

“Before you decide to scream, your secret is safe with me. Remember, I killed people too, so did Nam, and any other soldier here. I didn’t, however, swear an oath to “do no harm.””

She pulled her forearm away from him, and Alastor let her go. He could tell that it struck a nerve in her. Good, it means she will talk. He kept eye contact with her and gave her one of his charming smiles. The kind of smile she told him once during their night chats made him look especially dashing. He took a step back and crossed his arms behind him to show her he meant no harm to her.

“I didn’t break my oath! I didn’t harm him; I simply gave him a painless death instead of suffering for a few more days. He wouldn’t make it. What I did was mercy, not murder, and if it makes me a killer in your eyes, then so be it, I will see you in Hell!”

She was angry but made sure not to shout loudly; she didn’t want to wake anyone up. Alastor was, in fact, a bit impressed with this nurse. To make her kills, she had to know the routes and times doctors and medical personnel visit each barracks. She planned all the medicine supplies on paper and made sure nobody noticed she took some for herself. Well-organised serial murder and all of it while being the sweetest nurse in the hospital. At that moment, Alastor realised one thing he had to ask her:

“Did you plan to kill me on those nights I was unconscious?”

This question made her turn her head away from him; she didn’t want to answer. Silent confirmation of his suspicion. Finally, she spoke:

“Yes and no. I was checking if you had any sepsis syndromes. I wanted to be sure that you were already dying before I gave you my mercy. If there is a chance, there is a point to save a patient. Sometimes, there is no cure, only a humane way out. You were out there, you saw the scale of suffering we are facing! Wouldn’t these soldiers prefer a quiet death? With no pain and no fear? I just couldn’t look at it and do nothing.”

After the initial shock at her honest admission to trying to kill him, Alastor finally understood why he felt some sense of kinship with her; there was a moral code in her kills. His mind came back again to Fredreich and the ditch. Surely his companion would prefer a quick death to slowly bleeding out; on the other hand, he made him feel like a human being before he died, while in pain, Fredreich died in peace with a chance to say his own goodbye to Esther, to his old life before the war. Nam didn’t get that chance. He tipped an imaginary hat at her and responded:

“As I have mentioned, your secret is safe with me. Have a safe night, ma’am.”

After learning everything he wanted to, Alastor slowly marched back to his barracks. Before he left, he felt a need to make sure this Angel knew one thing, so he turned his head in her direction.

“You still are my favourite angel, it doesn’t change a thing.”

He watched her reaction: the same, luminous smile he had grown to crave, even now, shadowed with relief and a sadness he recognized in himself. She felt relieved that he understood her perspective; he didn’t condemn her. As she walked away, lamp in hand, Alastor was left alone with the sharp awareness of what had just passed between them—a secret held in blood and mercy, a quiet understanding of each other's burdens. This acceptance sat heavy but steady in his chest: two broken souls, stained by war and haunted by guilt, each in a different way. As her light disappeared into the darkness, Alastor knew nothing would ever quite be the same.

The next morning, news of Nam's death arrived; he passed away in his sleep. It was a much better death than choking on his own blood. Just like everyone else, he was buried in a nearby cemetery, another white wooden plaque to the collection. The sight was morbid, as far as one's eyesight could stretch; all of it was just covered in white, mostly crosses. Just another casualty in the meatgrinder of the Great War.

*Alastor here refers to the Exodus Book in the Bible, Destroyer was an angel of death sent to kill everything firstborn in the land of Egypt.

[f-ing-another-account]

We have so much to say, and we shall never say it - Chapter 3 (human!Alastor x human!fem!Reader)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Synopsis: Chapter 3, in which Alastor gets used to the daily routine at the hospital, has a sudden flashback to his childhood, gains some influence, and saves a life. All this while George continues trying to be a wingman.

TW: Death, blood, murder, child labour, and rules of the early 20th century cotton mills, use of the word 'color' while referring to people in a historical context.

fem!Reader x Alastor, 3rd person pov, no y/n, no ‘you’

A/N: I rewrote this one three times, and I'm still not happy with it; that is why I will be posting Chapter 4 today as well, to make up for this thing.

Breakfast was served around 6 AM, and Alastor couldn’t decide who was in worse condition, he or whatever was on his plate. Breakfast was the most disgusting meal of the day, so he mostly sustained himself on coffee in the morning. The coffee was awful, but it sometimes helped to mask the taste of whatever was for breakfast. When it didn’t, well, George would eat anything, and he was happy that Alastor shared with him. Then came the worst part - boredom. The time in between the doctor's visits and lunch. People would do anything to entertain themselves. The guy from the right row, in the first bed next to the door, would play his harmonica. He only knew one song, so after a few days, it became annoying, but Alastor had to admit that the guy was getting better at it. The gambling trio, per usual, was occupying chairs near the iron-cast stove as they played cards. The same pocket watch passed through all players and returned to its original owner. Not for long, Alastor guessed as the man put the pocket watch in the pot again. Someone was screaming in pain, morphine ran out, and he needed another injection, or he was addicted at this point. Sometimes it was hard to tell. The only thing left for Alastor to do was talk, well, mostly listen to George. He had to admit that the Britt was growing on him, slowly. An alternative to George was trying to catch some gossip from the nurses. That was the case for the initial few days, until he noticed a lone soldier who had a stack of paper and a pencil. Everything needed to write a letter, poetry, story, article, journal entry, or to draw. Paper was a rare resource among patients, so this particular soldier piqued Alastor's curiosity.

George gave Alastor a break from his talking as he was currently chatting up some angels. He was in the middle of telling them about his wife’s sewing skills and how his daughter, who was the same age as the nurses, was apprenticing in a true tailor shop. According to him, one day his daughter will be the best seamstress in the entire Manchester. While Alastor was glad for a break from George, he had to ask about the paper-owning soldier, and Britt knew everyone in this barracks. He will ask later; now he enjoys peace.

Within three days in the hospital, Alastor understood why nurses were so well-liked here. Besides helping around and easing pain, their presence made staying more bearable. They talked to them like people whenever they could; they didn’t treat them as soldiers, like cannon fodder. They provided, at worst, an illusion that someone cared who these men are and that they are important to someone. At least Alastor considered it all an illusion; to him, it was unbelievable that these women could care so deeply for strangers. Even though he had to admit that their company was preferred over one provided by other men in barracks. He wasn’t sure if it was caused by their intelligence or his own preference for feminine company. While he didn’t have any romantic feelings for her, Alastor had to admit that his night visitor was his favourite Angel. He felt a strange sense of kinship with her, as if they shared a mutual understanding. Her sunlight-like smile was an added bonus. Of course, George claimed that Alastor and the smiling nurse will soon be courting, and he already appointed himself as a witness to their wedding.

Before midday, Alastor asked George about the paper-owning soldier. Stanislas, or how George called him, Stan, was a Polish runaway from the Austro-Hungarian army. On his way out, he took a stack of paper and has been writing on it ever since he arrived in the hospital with a fever. His French was poor, but maybe Alastor will have some luck with him since the guy didn’t speak English.

Befriending a runaway from the Austro-Hungarian army for paper so he wouldn’t die from boredom wasn’t Alastor’s initial plan, but he didn’t have anything else to do. He had to get up from bed at some point anyway. One evening, Alastor approached Stan and quickly glanced at what he was writing before the other man could cover the paper. To his surprise, it was letters. Rows upon rows of letters, as if written by a child’s hand. Hidden behind a pillow was a piece of paper with pictures next to letters, peaking like silent guilt. Stanislas couldn’t read, and he was ashamed of it.

While Alastor didn’t particularly care about other patients with whom he shared the barracks, this sign hit too close to home for his liking. This view pulled out an old memory from the back of his head. Deep blue of ink, hot Southern Sun, and the sound of a school bell. He was again a kid in Louisiana, a student. His mother ran a small school for colored kids. It is where he received a part of his education, where he learned to read, write, and even play the piano. Thanks to this school, his mother could afford a better education for him, so one day he could mingle with high society without embarrassing himself. She always told him how she hated how she had never been given such an opportunity and that she swore her child would never feel such shame in their life. Alastor had to admit that he was extremely fortunate when it came to education; however, growing up, he could see kids whose parents couldn’t afford to send them to school. He saw them going to work at the cotton mill; some of them never came back from work. One of them was Ruth, a mixed girl, just like him, and Alastor’s childhood friend. On Saturdays, they would sit together in front of the local grocery shop, and he would teach her to read street signs and labels of soda bottles. Ruth was smart, smarter than many kids in his mother’s school, but she was born poor. This poverty killed her when she was 12, in an accident in the mill. That day, Alastor felt he could kill the mill’s owners. Ruth’s death was deduced from her parents' salary because the stained cotton couldn’t be sold. They didn’t even get a chance to bury their daughter, as they couldn’t pay for the damages her death caused. Ruth was buried in a mass grave with other dead workers whose families couldn’t afford the buyout. Alastor's innocence died with Ruth that day.

Maybe he did it in Ruth’s memory, perhaps for his mother, or for himself to save whatever humanity he had left in him, but Alastor took the role of Stan’s teacher. In exchange for some paper and a pencil, he would teach him how to read and write. With his help, the man could now write simple sentences, and his French improved. Thanks to George, Stanislas started picking up some English. Alastor initially translated for both as he hoped that helping the two befriend one another would get some of George’s talking off his head. Thanks to that, both George and Alastor learned more about the mysterious runaway. Apparently, he escaped with his three friends, but they all got separated at one point. One of his friends made the picture and letter chart for him, but he never got a chance to properly teach Stan. One day, during a writing class, Stanislaus told Alastor something he wasn’t expecting:

“You are a good man, friend. In trouble? I help!”

Alastor didn’t know what to make of it; he didn’t expect to form any friendships here. On the other hand, Stanislas was a big guy; he might come in handy one day.

Soon, Alastor had a few students to teach. He never saw himself as schoolmaster material, but teaching earned him the loyalty of his barracks-mates, and it gave Alastor something to occupy himself with during the day. It genuinely made him feel better about himself, as if he was doing something his mother would be proud of.

George, of course, didn’t stop in his campaigning for Alastor to get him in favour of the nighttime visitor Angel. Anytime she appeared, he would point out how smart Alastor is, how good a man he is by teaching someone, regardless of his own injuries. Every time she would smile at him, and Alastor would smile back. He has been in the hospital for over two weeks now, and her smile still feels like warm sunshine on his skin to him. She gives him this fuzzy feeling inside that wants him to make her happy again and again, just to see her smile. Alastor even caught himself following her with his eyes every time she came over. Something George unfortunately pointed out loud enough for all men to hear. Alastor liked her and enjoyed her presence, both during the day and during their nighttime meetings, which got more frequent. The nightmares didn’t stop, and every time they happened, Alastor was shaken awake by the same nurse. Every time, she had the same explanation: morphine injections. Now they both talked to one another with more than a few sentences, but neither of them let their guard down yet. One night, he asked her why she was the one always applying morphine in the middle of the night. She blamed being an insomniac and that someone has to do it. Alastor started to see a pattern; while death in the hospital wasn’t anything new, it was guaranteed that someone would die after this sweet Angel applied injections at night. He had a suspicion, but he needed proof.

It wasn’t the only pattern Alastor noticed; with every visit, she stayed longer with him, and with every chat, he wished for her not to leave yet. He wanted to hate himself for the growing attachment, but even a murderer like him yearned for a deep human connection. They didn’t discuss just nightmares and death; with time, Alastor started to open up to her about himself. He told her about his mother; after all, he called her ‘mommy’ the first time he saw her. They discussed their dreams, goals, and post-war plans. He confessed to his dream of being the greatest radio host in New Orleans. She told him he would be an amazing one, and she already loved listening to him. Sometimes their conversations would be interrupted by growing sleepiness or by George, who randomly woke up. Regardless of what ended their current talk, both of them looked forward to the next nighttime chat.

Those were the good nights; bad nights were like the one in which Alastor woke up to a sound of choking. It was Nam, the blind soldier, on his right. Thanks to Alastor’s intervention and the quick reaction of nurses and doctors, Nam’s life was saved, and he was moved to an intensive care unit, temporarily, they were informed. Alastor couldn’t save Fredreich in the shell hole, but he did save Nam. He couldn’t fall asleep that night and sat on his bed in complete stillness. He didn’t know for how many hours, but after a while, his favourite Angel appeared. She looked tired, scared, and emotionally devastated with bloodstains on her white apron. He made some room for her next to him, and for a moment they sat together in silence. In this situation, Alastor did something he wasn’t expecting from himself. He grabbed her hand and just held it. It felt right. The nurse squeezed his palm and gave him a grateful look.

“He will live, for now at least. His chances of leaving a normal life, however, are very small. Thank you for your vigilance. You saved his life today.”

The smile she gave him was a tiny one this time, grateful, but to Alastor it was worth more than all the gambling pots in this hospital. It also made him realize that he likes to have her close to him. Maybe George was onto something; maybe sharing life with her would feel right?

[f-ing-another-account]

So do you remember when I estimated that We have so much to say, and we shall never say it will be 3 chapters long max?

Well, it turned out that it will be longer (I'm sorry 😭), currently I have a ready chapter 3 and I've entered the murder arch which will be crucial for the Alastair and Nurse Reader relationship.

Shout out to the 20 people who like it ♥️ this one is for you.

Chapter 3 will contain some disturbing imagery related to early 20th century child labour so more blood and death incoming.

There will be a lot of deaths in this fic, but Alastor's is a killer, what else did you expect honestly?