Reunion (Iâm Not in Love Pt. 2) | Alastor x f!Reader
CW/TW: suicide, gore, death, murder, predatory behavior, blood, initial unrequited feelings, insecurities involving looks.
It is only when you lose everything, that you have the power to do anything. After all, what are the consequences?
There is only you. Head throbbing after a bullet went through it and a subsequent smack toâŠpavement?
There is only you filled with grief from an unrequited love youâd sunk over half of your lifespan into and a world you canât quite understand.
Until you heard the screams. Cautiously peeking around the corner of the alleyway you landed in, you witnessed the abhorrent atrocities committed by beings you couldnât quite comprehend. They were inhuman and inhumane.
You were inhuman and inhumane, taking notice finally of just how sensitive and high up your ears suddenly were. Perhaps your face was thoroughly scrambled by the bullet and you didnât die? Impossible. But it would just be your luck wouldnât it? Surviving a point blank shot to the face with a large caliber. You reached your hands- claws- claws?!
Sidetracked, your eyes gaped at the change in your hands. They were pitch black, fading into your skin tone that had lost its vibrancy the farther you trailed up your arms. Surely it was a malfunction or flaw within the rifle that caused an abundance of gun powder to color your limbs black? ButâŠthat didnât explain the claws in place of your dull fingernails. You continued to reach towards the top of your head, startled by your new fuzzy appendages.
Quickly darting out of the alleyway, you faced yourself in the reflection of a nearby storefront window. Only, this wasnât the Y/N you talked to before ending your life.
This wasâŠthis was something entirely different. Someone entirely different.
But sure as the days are long, it was you. Your ears reminiscent of a deer, and twisting your spine and neck to look behind you, you were adorned with the tail of one too.
âWhat on Earth-â You cut yourself off. Earth? No. This couldnât be. You most certainly died. And if you were dead, and yet alive, that had to mean one thing.
You were in the beginning stages of your afterlife, which in turn meant one thing or another: you were either in Heaven or Hell. Taking into account the potential love rivals you murdered and your demonic appearance, you could only assume the latter option were true.
âWhatâs a pretty little thing like you doing out all by yourself? Itâs a dangerous world out here, little girl.â A gravelly voice brought you out of your daze. You whipped your head around to face the source of the slimy words. It was another demon, wolf-like in appearance with a smile that looked as if he would eat a grandmother.
âI would stay away.â Is all you said. Truly, you were a deer in the headlights. What did he mean by turf war? And how were you going to prevent yourself from becoming Little Red?
âAnd if I donât stay away?â He challenged, slimy tongue running over rows of sharp teeth, inching closer as if to tease you. As if he preferred to play with his food.
âThen Iâll have no choice but to kill you. Iâd rather not, if I can help it.â You replied. Maybe you could trick him into thinking you were dangerous, but given your new form, you doubted it. A prey animal. How unfortunate when your newest enemy was a wolf.
He barked out a hearty laugh, thoroughly amused by your polite warning, but continued to close in on you.
You felt something underneath the surface of your soft flesh. A mix of anger, of the warmth of a light, of the cold of a shadow, of the bubbling of champagne, all fueled by the sheer audacity of a man who couldnât let you get your bearings in such a strange place. Couldnât you ever get a fucking break?!
It happened suddenly, the cracking of pavement sounding beneath your hooves, vines dressed in thorns sharper than knives rose up from the crevices, almost shielding you from the perpetrator. Following suit, poison ivy twisted around, blocking any means of escape for the offending wolf demon. Your lack of fear and something else you couldnât place told you these earthly vines of torture were yours.
You looked back up at the mangy mutt, a soft but dangerous smile stretching across you face, âCongratulations, my friend. Youâll be the first of many.â You flicked your pointer finger at him, and the vines shot out, tightening around his torso like snakes to mice. He yelped and whined, fighting against them. You were annoyed by the sounds he made, another set of vines wrapping around his unfortunate looking face, clamping down on his long snout like a muzzle.
âGood dogs are quiet.â You said.
It was like life on the surface. Smothering and strangling the life out of the women who had romantic intentions for Alastor. Women who told you that youâd never be right for him. That no one could ever love someone so poor as you. Your heart swelled at the thought of him. He would be so disappointed in you, surely.
The mutt of a manâs struggling subsided, his body falling limp from the hold of your vines and landing with an audible thud to the ground.
You were a firm believer that life was what you made it. You couldnât make your life better, especially without your Alastor, so you ended it. But now, maybe the afterlife could be what you made it. He wasnât here, you both separated by different plains of existence, and surely when he died, heâd go to Heaven.
Far, far away from you where he belonged. Where he surely wanted to be.
Youâd been too pliant for too long. Holding in an anger that felt released ever so slightly when you killed so freely. Here in Hell, you didnât have to hide your victims, and in their second deaths, they could be used as tools to earn respect around here.
Perhaps it was far better to be feared than loved.
Yes. The afterlife could be what you make it too. And you were going to make your afterlife everyone elseâs problem.
You were deemed âSmother Nature.â One of the only clever names given to an Overlord in Hell. You strangled, smothered, and swindled your way to the top, becoming a feared but not unfair Overlord in just a few short years.
Within that span of time, you became more accustomed to your new body and its capabilities.
You were a deer demon, specifically a doe when in your regular form, but when in your more powerful demonic form, your skull would sprout wide black antlers with vines snaking around each one like a crown of thorns. From the tearing of skin atop your head at the site where these new extensions of you sprouted, blood would trickle down your face. Initially it was painful, but now? It only added to how absolutely terrifying you could be. Here, fear meant power, and you basked in it.
This was the only time you loved yourself. You were someone to answer to. Someone powerful and dangerous, who didnât take anything laying down. Youâd killed several Overlords in order to gain this title, and you were proud of it.
Every death at your hands or vines was a surge of adrenaline coursing throughout your body, and you couldnât have been more thrilled with your decision in looking down the barrel of that rifle.
However, someone else had felt entirely different about their demise at first.
Distraught was an understatement. How was he supposed to visit you and his mother? Who else would get you your favorite flowers? Not just any random bouquet, but one composed of your most favorites?
How would he ever see you again?
Seeing as he was in Hell, that confirmed the existence of a Heaven, and surely youâd be up there.
He let out a growl of frustration, a long arm striking the side of a building, a spiderweb of cracks forming from the force. What a surprise, Alastor had committed atrocities during life so selfishly, and now theyâd barred him from seeing you ever again.
He shouldâve been more careful when burying that man in the swamp. He knew it was hunting season, and yet he couldnât help himself. Even if it wasnât, the police that were initially closing in on that woman-strangler shifted their focus onto him since the other killerâs disappearance. He always warned you about walking home alone at night because of that strangler. Youâd always brush it off.
A snap from a twig and his head snapped towards the sound, and that blasted hunter shot well before he could ever think about what he was shooting at.
The shot connected at Alastorâs forehead, perfectly centered between his eyes. One of the best shots heâd seen since he took you on hunting excursions when you both were alive.
His heart tightened at the thought of you. You were all he ever seemed to think about.
He hated himself. He hated this body. A prey animal. A buck. Pathetic little antlers akin to toothpicks until he was in his more powerful form.
Nothing down here mattered. If you werenât here, then nothing mattered. Down here, it was survival of the fittest, and it seemed he needed to make more of a statement in order to curb any ideas that he was weak, and considering his affinity for all things radio-related, he had just the idea to make it a reality.
It didnât take him long at all to unlock his full demonic potential, hijacking the sound waves and crackling onto every radio in Hell, he made his debut appearance.
âLadies and gentlemen, I interrupt this regularly scheduled programming to bring you the worst thing to ever happen to you sorry sinners since the day of your demise!â Screams of terror and agony rang out from all devices in Hell, reflecting the sheer agony heâs felt ever since he lost you. How therapeutic it was to inflict pain on others, and yet how simultaneously unsatisfying that theyâd never feel a fraction of the pain he felt.
If only he knew that your little doe ears flicked to your radio in pure shock.
It had to be him. No one else sounded like that. Talked like that. Made your heart race like that.
Ever since being here, the only thing that terrified you was that initial run-in with that wolfish sorry excuse of a man, but now that was topped by the sound of Alastorâs voice filtering through your radio, accompanied by the screams of his victims.
It wasnât that you were afraid of Alastor, just of facing the unrequited feelings you initially shot yourself to get away from.
Why was he here? He was such a gentleman in his life on the surface, how could it be that heâs here? More screams cut your thoughts short.
Heâs soâŠused to this. So used to torture that he welcomes it with open arms.
HeâŠhe had to be like you, no? Living a double life, teetering on the edges of a socially acceptable, functioning member of society, and a cold-blooded killer?
A part of you salivated at the thought that maybe he killed for you at least once, like youâd done for him so many times.
No. No he wouldnât do that for you.
Your tail wagged and your legs craved to bolt out towards wherever Alastor was. But who knew if he even wanted to see you again? You looked into the mirror of your vanity where the radio rested.
Were you ugly? Would he find this form hideous?
Your fist collided with the mirror, shattering into hundreds of tiny images of you.
You rested your face in your palms, a took a deep breath.
âŠwhat did he look like?
The temptation to see him was so strong, it was as if you were caught in a trance that forced you out of your luxurious penthouse, a testament to the many lives you ended and souls you puppeteer. The over abundance of hope held in your body leaked out in the form of green grass and clover that sprouted from each footstep you took.
âPlease let it be him.â You whispered to no one in particular. âPlease let it be him.â
It felt like no amount of bloodshed was enough. He wanted others to feel the hurt he felt internally, and yet, despite the fact that the streets were painted with the lives of the sinners caught in his clutches, it simply wasnât enough.
The void in his heart and soul was gaping, and he attempted to fill it with the viscera and gore of those he slaughtered, the taste of bitterness and iron filling his maw.
âY/N if youâre looking down on me, look away.â He whispered to himself, hoping youâd hear his plea and turn away from the carnage he created in your name.
This truly was Hell. He was hearing your angelic voice calling his name.
What hurt most was that every part of this eternal punishment was deserved, he just didnât know if he could accept it.
No. He couldnât accept this infernal reality. If he had to hear your voice but never see you again, he was sure he wouldnât make it in this afterlife.
His train of thought was cut clean off by a harsh yanking around his throat that sent him flying backwards into the ground.
In shock, he bolted upright, fingers moving towards his throat to cup it gently, as if to assess the damage. Instead of being met with the warmth of his demonic flesh, his fingertips met something cold, and metal-like.
There were no words for how you felt about this situation. How did youâŠhowâŠ?
How did you have a chain around his soul if you never initiated a deal with him? This was unheard of. Absolutely unorthodox.
While you were staring in shock at the glimmering white chain that you held in your hand, his red eyes drifted from the chain up towards the culprit who yanked it, forcing him to the ground.
His eyes widened when he saw who was at the other end of it. He lost his breath for the third time that day.
The first being the impact of his fall.
The second being the chain pulling on his neck.
The third being the vision of you, which could absolutely not be real.
âY/N?â He whispered, wishing he could take it back. He hadnât said your name in so long, it was like a button that made his tear ducts malfunction. His vision was blurry, his breathing shaky.
âI-â you opened your mouth then immediately closed it. It truly was him. He looked different, hair longer, skin grey, teeth sharp. And he was red. So, so red. But it was him.
He slowly got up from the ground, feeling as though if he moved too quickly, youâd dissipate like a mist. He couldnât handle that.
The chain you held in your claws slacked because of his inching towards you. You debated backing away, but his eyes, despite being the color of blood, of warnings, of danger, you were sure theyâd never looked to soft.
And they were looking right at you.
You. The object of all of his wants, desires, and affections. Too stupid to realize it in your lifetime, yet brought together by the very thing that made him realize the depth of his love for you; death.
You werenât sure when, but you started to cry.
His heart felt so heavy. Heavy with love, with grief, with a hatred for the way he made you cry.
His claws reached out, cradling your wet face, the most gentle action he performed with them that day.
Your body betrayed your mind, your head leaning into the warmth of his large hands. You thought he certainly wouldnât want you to, but your heart couldnât help it.
His thumbs carefully wiped away the tears on your cheeks, being mindful of the sharpness of his claws. âIs it really you?â He asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked as though you were in pain. Your ears drooped. This isnât the way you wanted him to see you. You looked-
âYouâre as stunning as the day I lost you.â
You sucked your lips in, trying to hold in the sob that was fighting its way out of your body, and you closed the distance between the two of you in the tightest embrace you could possibly muster, buried your face in the lapels of his overcoat.
He held onto you like youâd disappear for a second time, finger carding through your hair, nose intaking your scent. You smelled just like you did on Earth, only, with more floral notes.
For the first time since you got to Hell, you sobbed. âIâm so sorry Alastor.â You wailed.
He was sure you could both hear his heart audibly crack, âYouâve nothing to be sorry about, my darling.â He tightened his hold onto you. He was terrified heâd say something wrong, to have you take your life a second time in order to run away from him. âIâm the one who will forever be sorry. I-I was such a fool.â
You looked up at him, and shook your head. âI- I wasnât sure if you wanted to see me again.â You admitted.
âDarling, every waking moment of my life after youâd gone was spent wishing you were by my side once again. What I did to deserve my wish coming true, Iâll never know, but Iâd do it over again if it meant I could have you.â Your foreheads pressed together, entry wounds kissing. âY/N, no words could ever convey how sorry I am for treating you the way I did. I was so blinded by my own ignorance and arrogance that I couldnât see just how madly, deeply, and quickly Iâd fallen in love with you.â
You searched his eyes for a hint of an untruth, but found none. You laughed wetly, sniffling. âI love you too. More than anything. To live without you wasnât an option, Alastor.â
His smile tightened at your last sentence. âI feel the very same way.â
You were counting in your head when to act on your emotions, trying to build up the courage.
You never got to three. You didnât like landing on three because thatâs when everyone expected something to happen, and you just couldnât wait any longer.
You took Alastorâs face in your hands, leaning into him while bringing him closer with your arms. Your kiss wasnât how you always dreamed it to be, and yet, it was somehow better. It tasted of bitterness, of sweetness, of blood and death, and of life. He smelled of iron, of rot, of cinnamon and a fireplace.
And then it overwhelmingly smelt of roses.
You parted, both looking around in shock at the garden of rose bushes your powers created. You were initially bashful, but Alastorâs smile never looked brighter, laughing as he took your face in his hands and kissed you again, looking around as the rose bushes grew even larger.
âIt seems the best way to get you flowers is to kiss you, hmm?â He teased. âWeâll have our very own Garden of Eden by the end of the day.â He teased softly.
âNot before you tell me why youâre down here.â You lightly scolded him, no real anger of malice behind the question.
He froze for a second, wondering if heâd scare you away if you knew what heâd done. âMy dear, I-â you placed a finger over his lips.
âAlastor, nothing you could say would ever make me stop loving you.â You removed your finger from his face and gesturing for him to keep going.
âI murdered many men who preyed on womenâŠâ he admitted, looking off to the side.
âYouâre leaving something out.â Your neck craning to follow his line of sight.
âI also murdered men who meant to court youâŠâ his claws reached up behind his neck to scratch at it, but he was reminded of the chain around his throat.
âYou killed for me?â You said, astonished. Alastor mistook it for silent horror, until he saw clover sprouting out from around your hooves. He looked into your eyes, and saw nothing but an unbridled passion for him and his actions, leading to his cheeks to burn red as the rest of him. âI have something to confess myself.â You said at this revelation. âI strangled multiple women because they sought your heart. I couldnât allow any competition whatsoever.â You played with your fingers nervously, afraid of what his reaction would be.
He was sure that you were made for him, and he for you. No other woman could compare to the lovely creature that was you; homicidal tendencies and all. He kissed you again, having to put this surge of love somewhere.
You looked at his throat then, at the glowing white collar around it. He shivered when your hands traced the metal, the very hands that had wrapped around so many necks before. The softest and most delicate hands heâd ever known that had snuffed out so many lives in the name of your love for him.
âI donât understand how this happened, Alastor. We never made a deal. I shouldnât own your soul.â
He thought back to a human version of himself, a broken man who pledged his afterlife to you. A decision he wouldnât ever regret.
He took your hands in his larger ones. âDarling, you have all of me, heart and soul. I know youâll take wonderful care of it.â He kissed the inside of one of your palms. âHowever, if you are going to pull on the leash so harshly, next time Iâd prefer a warning.â
I would say I apologize for the wait, but patience is a virtue! I hope you all enjoyed this part 2, and I appreciate the support my last fic got. Please know I appreciated all comments, reblogs, and hearts you all so generously gave. â„ïž
TAGLIST: @diffidentphantom @xalygatorx @whitewolfsoldat @littledolly2345 @purple-umbrella-girl @milkissesx @cinnamon-galaxies @michi-keinz
And apologies to @psychoaxo and @ari42 I wasnât able to tag you for some reason.
