ghost headcanons! (realistic)
tw: nsfw, spoilers, dead dove do not eat
a lot of these are based off of my personal understanding of him
part 2 —> character analysis of ghost
general:
didn’t go back to manchester after his family died, too many foul memories—a lot of friends will probably know him as a murderer (comic reference, ghost was accused of killing his family in the newspaper)
has a fit body. a lot of people like to hc him as big and bulky, i think otherwise! its actually a huge disadvantage to be bulky in size as a soldier (logistics while fighting yk). most SAS soldiers are trained for endurance and fitness, i think he has a moreso lean body
hes not cold and ruthless, wouldn’t say hes a big softie either.
VERYYYY punctual. always on time
will not abuse or rape anyone. this guys been through atrocities, he would never do it to someone else
won’t hire a prostitute, ever.
honestly, hes just another dude in the military. he loves dad jokes and bourbon😭
ghost doesn’t think hes mean or tries to be, he simply is intimidating because of his size and way of talking
he likes watching soccer in his free time
gets internally offended if someone thinks hes from london (anywhere but Manchester)
very dark humoured. tell him any dark joke and he wouldn’t care
loves tea
listens to older british bands, like the smiths
cannot understand modern slang at all. what does ‘iykyk’ and ‘rizzler’ mean???
texts like a typical millennial. uses ‘😂’ and ‘😜’ unironically. types with proper grammar and spelling with punctuation too, maybe an occasional LOL
also unironically likes posts about trust issues and being a sigma male. he doesn’t actually think hes one, he just relates to those quotes that are like: “being alone is better than with fakes” 😭😭😭😭
ghost probably hates other men more than misandrists 😕 i think its bc hes always fighting other men and dealing with the cruel things theyve done, so ghost subconsciously feels more on guard with men he doesnt know
has insomnia
doesn’t cry. ghost doesn’t remember the last time he cried.
isn’t rich rich, but has a ton of savings. he doesn’t have a family or spend a lot. so the money piles up.
relationship hcs:
first off, i dont think he’d realistically get into one anyway LMAO
s/o would have to the chasing, i dont think ghost is the kind to actively pursue someone
he has charisma, doesn’t feel like using it
hes very against the idea at first—his family got murdered because he was in the military, you think hes gonna let it happen again?
probably will not like someone working with him as a soldier
i think itd go two ways: a) you are a civilian who aggressively pursues the poor guy and he gives in, b) you work as a military nurse and gradually get to know him, c) you are a longtime close friend of his before he was in the military
i cant see him being fwb with anyone, only one night stands
hes not a toxic partner or super lovey dovey
ghost doesn’t entertain multiple women at once
itd most likely end up in a breakup where he fears for your safety:(((
BUT lets ignore that
tbh, i think he would probably be with someone very empathetic and kind to others. he doesn’t like people overly energetic, too soft, or someone that annoys him
persons gotta be independent and good with long distance
simon doesn’t care about age gaps, but probably wants someone at least in their late twenties
had a hard time opening up, eventually told you everything once he trusts you
another reason why i think he wants someone empathetic is because he has severe trust issues😃😃
last thing he’d care about is looks for long term relationships
the type of guy to disappear for 6 months and reappear to be like “remember im your husband???”🫡
doesn’t let you tell your friends about him—No hes not being uncommitted or toxic, but hes simply being cautious after what happened to his family
you can’t show anyone photos of him, his name, his occupation, NOTHHINGGG
so you fake a name for your bf who your friends think you’re lying about
definitely does not let you post on social media about him either.
installs security in your home, teaches you self defense, and gives you weapons. this guy can be paranoid
will never hit you or lay a hand on you
ghost genuinely thinks you saved him—his life was bleak and empty before you came in. subconsciously thinks of you as a savior
he buys you gifts, does chores for you, he really likes you :(
ghost actively tries to make his voice sound softer and friendlier when hes talking to you
doesnt understand playing mind games, things like the silent treatment or “im ok” when ur not ok thing. just tell him how you feel
doesn’t tell his team about your existence. you and his job are always going to be separate.
avoids talking about what he does in the military. ghost has killed and injured many and he doesn’t want you to see that side of him.
scary dog privileges for SURE
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Hey hey! i have a third angsty silly idea teehee (yes same person who requested the one where wife reader gets teleported to the hotel and the one with the fake dating trope-)
Im at it again with my silly ideas i can’t quite get out of my head- so picture this RIGHT before the begging of the second fic (loved it btw if i could id kiss you on the mouth)
(this interaction is important) Reader is eyeing Alastor to subconsciously make him talk to her, he does of course it goes a bit like “Alastor dear, havent seen you before?” "Just moved in, thought of making some acquaintances” and they talk, reader tells him “a charmer too? should be careful around you not to break my heart” or smth smilar idk i suck at dialogue
And then the partnership happens and theyve been at it for a while (like at least 5 years id say)- until Readers twin brother dies in a planned house fire and she goes out for revenge, before that they have a fight like “youre going to be out numbered” “its suicide” blah blah blah- and eventually reader goes out alone
She does manage to to kill the criminals but because of the cold January weather and the exhaustion of it all- reader gets hypothermia and in the frenzy thats caused by it stumbles and falls into a fence spike of an abandoned farmhouse, gets impaled right below the ribs teehee, Alastor eventually finding her and goes out to bury her properly.
readers death happens in 1925 -8 years before alastor which gibes her enough time to take over half the pentagram with her blizzard/ice powers (cuz i think theyre. cool ;)) and is also important reader has a long tail with fluff (which can turn into a heart shaped fur or have happy/angry twitches) at the end because i think its cute and because her demon form has one so it matches (think the faceless room guardians by anyaboz on IG but fully white- with a void face from which emerges a dog skull at will). the normal form being overall relatively normal aside from the long ears and black limbs that symbolize the hypothermia part of the death (Yes this is an Oc but im making it a bit more generic for everyone :>)
When alastor does die in 1933 (when he got shot visiting readers grave) he hears of this blizzard overlord and goes a bit into her territory and into a bar where he sees a somewhat familiar person teehee and they have the same first conversation over again but in hell :D and then get reunited but possibly pull out their signature weapons on each other again for old times sake 😇
also i love you so much for taking the time to write my dreams it does mean quite a lot to me and if you want i can give more ideas because i have a lot more- 😇 (im tottaly not insane and or delusional i swear-)
A/N of course?? I’m obsessed with your requests. they’re always so fun. Also as a heads up, I decided not to do this as a part to for cover up because I got an earlier request asking to do a part two for that and I try to address requests in the order I receive them. I also made some other minor changes just to make it work a little smoother. Also, please keep sending in requests, yours are always so fun.
Frostbite (Alastor X Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Murder, death, gore, arson, a little bit of angst.
Word Count: 3,949
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Alastor sat at the bar of Mimzy's club drinking like he did every friday night. Normally the whirling dancers and loud music merely served to give him a headache, normally he ignored them and all the fans who somehow recognized him from the radio. Tonight was far from normal, tonight there was someone new.
Spinning on the dance floor, the fringe of her blood red dress spinning out from her legs. The woman was all smiles, all laughter, and she seemed never to turn down a partner. He watched her, entranced.
The woman wasn't a talented dancer, far from it in fact, but what she lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm and enjoyment. He had no intentions of doing anything other than watching her enchanting display until he made eye contact with her across the club. She blushed, turning away and quickly engaging a friend in conversation.
It was all the encouragement Alastor needed. In the dim light of the speakeasy, Alastor smiled to himself. He downed the rest of his drink and got to his feet. The crowed of dancers parted to make way for him like the red sea, waves of whispers following his path. He could hear the chatter, knew the rumors that he was a man uninterested in women, uninterested in love or romantic involvements of any type He knew that that was what everyone was speaking of as he approached the first new face the tired old place had seen in ages.
Coming to a stop behind the woman, her friend saw him first. It made sense, her back was turned to him after all, a result of her embarrassment at having been caught staring. He friend tapped her shoulder, indicating for the woman to turn around, and she spun. Alastor could feel the hem of her dress as it brushed against his leg through the fabric of his pants. His smile grew.
"Haven't seen you around here before Darling," he hummed, "new in town?"
"Just moved in, actually." the woman bashfully replied, clasping her hands behind her back and crossing one foot in front of the other.
The position it threw her body into sent Alastor's mind reeling. He hadn't expected that. Sure, she was pretty and different, new, but Alastor didn't feel things like that. At least, not normally.
"Well, I'd love to give you a tour sometime. The name is Alastor, Alastor Hartifelt."
This was the test: his name. How would she react? Was she just another one of his simpering fans, begging for his favor, for his attention, or would she do something interesting?
He held out a hand which she daintily rested her own in, a smile spreading across her face.
"Y/n L/n. I'm free tomorrow morning?"
Alastor was lucky, Saturday mornings were one of the few he had free. Gently, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand. Y/n felt her heart flutter inside her chest.
"Ah, a charmer." she hummed as Alastor raised his head again and she took her hand from his, "I'll have to be careful around you."
Everything had snowballed from there. The tour around the city had spiraled into dinner which had further fallen into an attempt by Alastor to take her life. He had been curious, how it would feel when the life drained from her body at the force of his hands. Instead, she had met his advances by holding her own knife to his throat.
It became a game of sorts for the two, always trying to outwit one another, one up each other, land the other six feet under. The game ended when Alastor was chasing Y/n through the woods and she had stumbled, falling to the ground. He had grinned maniacally as he had advanced on her, as she had scrambled on the ground away from him. Knife raised, her back against a tree, she had breathlessly asked him out on a date. How could he say no? Especially when he looked up and saw that she had planned this all along. There was no other way their initials could be carved into the surface of the very thing that had stopped her escape. It was perfect, she was perfect.
Five years of bliss. Five years of feathery kisses and passion. Five years of waking up to her smiling face, of washing the blood off each other's hands, of nearly wedded bliss. Then there had been the fire.
Y/n had a twin brother, a brute of a thing who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Despite his flaws, Y/n loved him. This time, on a January morning in 1925, he had pissed off the wrong person and gotten himself killed. Y/n was inconsolable, spent every waking moment tracking the killer. It didn't take her long to get a lead.
She was halfway out the door when Alastor found her, shoving knives into her pockets and grabbing a gun. There was a wild, unfocused look in her eyes. Alastor turned his gaze momentarily to the setting sun as it sent rays of liquid golden light bouncing off the snow.
"Darling, what are you doing?"
"Going out." she gruffly replied, adjusting the laces on one of her shoes.
Alastor sighed. Y/n had mentioned to him just the day before that she had an idea of who was behind the murder and it wasn't pretty. The most controversial and strongest gang in the city had, according to her research, wielded the flames. Alastor took a step forward, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder and she turned to him. Her eyes were hard and narrow, her face contorted by rage.
"Y/n, please." Alastor began, treading carefully, "Not tonight. It's awful out, and you just confirmed everything today."
"No." Y/n shook her head, "No, I can't wait to do this any longer, Al. It has already been nearly a month, I can't..."
She looked away, raising a fist to her heart, her shoulders hunching slightly.
"I can't."
"And I can't loose you." Alastor quickly replied, using his free hand to turn her face back to his.
"So come with me."
He hesitated. Y/n saw the look on his face, the doubt. She shook herself from his grip, turning back to the door.
"Alright. I'll go alone."
"Y/n," Alastor pleaded, taking another step towards her as she grabbed her coat off the hook on the wall, "it is too dangerous. I can't let you do this."
"Let me do this?" Y/n spun around, her coat in her hand and flames licking at the corners of her voice, "You can't let me do this?"
Alastor took a breath, trying desperately to keep his own anger at bay.
"There are too many of them." he tried to reason with her, "You can't do it on your own."
"So come with me!"
"I..."
Y/n scoffed, sliding her jacket onto her arms. Turning back to the door once again, she unlocked it. Her hand rested on the knob, she took a breath. Their eyes met over her shoulder.
"I'll be home later."
She swung the door open and stepped out into the night. Alastor trailed after her, the snow sinking into his socks. It was cold, a terrible night.
"Y/n, you'll die!"
"Do you truly have that little faith in me!?" she spun around, her rage radiating off of her, devouring everything in sight.
Alastor had never seen her like this before. He halted in his tracks.
"Please, I can't..." he took a deep breath, emotions had always been a struggle, "I can't loose you too."
"But I'm supposed to loose my brother and know who did it and do nothing?!" she screamed back at him.
"You will die!"
Y/n turned her back on him once again. She unlatched the gate to the garden and slipped through it, letting it fall shut behind her.
"So be it."
"Y/n!"
Alastor tried to run after her but, it was simply too cold. His limbs were numb, he stumbled.
"Y/n!" he yelled again but, she didn't turn around.
He could see her, in that red dress. She looked like she did the first time he had ever met her as she disappeared into the night. He knew it was his mind playing tricks on him, it felt like an omen.
Alastor stood in the cold for a few minutes longer before resigning himself to the truth of it all: Y/n was going to do what she was going to do. He just had to hope she would come back, that the damage he had done in refusing to back her up like that wouldn't be enough to have driven her away. That she was strong enough to make it out alive.
The fireplace crackled invitingly. No matter how warm and cheerful it made the room, Alastor couldn't stop the dread. He sat down on the couch before it, painfully aware of the empty spot beside him. He tried to read.
The hours ticked by, seconds dragging on for eternity. Still, Y/n was not yet home. Alastor couldn't focus on anything. He couldn't 't read, couldn't sleep, could barely sit still. He paced circles around the room as the sun rose, he called in sick to work, intent on being there should she return.
When it reached four pm, when it had been nearly twenty full hours since she had left, he decided to go out and look for her. Y/n had always been messy, always bad at putting things away. While normally it had irritated him to no end, he now found himself grateful. He swore to whatever gods were listening that if she was alright, he would never bother her about it again because right there on top of her desk were all her plans, including the exact location of the gang's hideout, the exact place she had disappeared to.
The sight that met Alastor when he reached the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city was one he would never forget. Blood stained the snow red and there were bodies everywhere, both outside and within. It was clearly, Y/n's handiwork and he couldn't help but feel a tad impressed, he had underestimated her yet again. His slight smile, a result of the realization, fell as he spotted the footprints leading out of the backdoor.
He had tracked Y/n enough times to know they were hers, they couldn't be anyone else's. A trail of blood accompanied them, one foot dragging more than the other. Alastor tried to keep his head clear, his mind cool. He gave chase.
The back yard to the warehouse was large, gave the impression of going right off into the woods. Alastor soon realized that was not the case as the rusted, wrought iron fence came in to view. Y/n wouldn't have been able to see it. Judging by the way the tracks were iced over, it had been a long time since she had walked this path. In the dead of night, surrounded by trees, the fence would have come as a surprise.
As he got closer, the lump that he had assumed was a fallen branch came into more detail. Alastor's heart stopped, he rushed to her.
If only he hadn't waited, if only the minute he had felt she'd been gone too long he had gone after her. He might have been able to save her, to stop her from this cruel fate.
What had happened was obvious. The fence was iced over, slippery to the touch. Y/n had evidently tried to climb over it and lost her grip, the force of her fall being enough to ram the sharpened edge of one of the fence's defensive points right through her temple. Wrong place, wrong time.
Alastor had never cried like that before, as he sat in the snow at her feet, her body stiff from the cold. Not even when his mother had died could he ever remember feeling such a grief. It ate away at him, pooling in the center of his chest and spreading out. She had been so integral to who he was, so much a part of his life and way of being. She had been his dream, his end goal. Alastor remembered the ring, sitting heavy in the drawer of his night table. His tears redoubled.
By the time he managed to calm himself, the early winter sun had long since sunk to its bed and been replaced by the moon. Moving completely on autopilot, not considering his actions, Alastor wrenched her body from the fence. Y/n deserved a proper burial, in a place that mattered. He made her final resting place at the base of the very same tree she had told him she loved him while sitting at. His fingers traced their carved initials, grown hard with the years. There was nothing to be done.
The guilt ate away at him, festered over the years. If only he had stopped her, had gone with her, had come to her rescue. If only he had told her that he loved her one last time.
When Y/n awoke in Hell, to say she was surprised would be an understatement. She had never been one to believe in the afterlife in any sort of way, let alone such a wonderful one with so many opportunities for mayhem.
The thing that had been the toughest to get used to was her new form. All the demons in Hell got them upon arrival and when she caught that first glimpse of herself in the glass of a shop window, she understood why everyone on the streets seemed to be eyeing her fearfully.
She looked like she was rotting, her fingertips and toes black from the cold she had lost herself in. It trailed up her limbs, mingling with her own natural skin color. Her hair, her eye lashes, her eyebrows even, looked perpetually frosted with snow, little particles of ice hanging delicately in them. Then there were the horns and the tail, those were by far the strangest. The horns were pure white and curving like a mountain goats, the tail was thin with a little heart shaped ball of fluff at the end. It wasn't until another demon attempted to attack her that she realized the full extent of the changes that had taken place.
Y/n had just tried to punch the man, that was all. He had made advances, she had said no. He had tried again and she had told him she was married. It wasn't entirely a lie, they had been planning on it after all. Still, the man refused to listen and so, she had resorted to brute strength. When she had pulled her fist away, it was to find the man encased in ice. That was when the anger had set in.
Y/n didn't blame Alastor, not really. She was mad at him but, in the end, he had been right. She had died. It was all so brutally unfair. The way they had left things, that final fight, weighed on her soul. She wondered if he even knew she was dead, if he just assumed she had up and left him. The guilt, the what if's of it all, were crushing.
The stronger Y/n's emotions, the more uncontrollable her power. She still attacked people for fun but, taking over half of Pentagram City with her storms had honestly been an accident. In retrospect, she would call it a happy one.
Y/n liked being respected, being feared. She liked the near worship with which the smaller, weaker demons began to treat her. She settled into her new life with surprising ease and soon, every demon and hellborn in the place knew her name: Frost.
Y/n would've liked something different, preferred something cooler but, when the people give someone a name, its hard to change it and so, she embraced the title. Stone cold, cruel, powerful and appearing at what others perceived as totally inopportune moments. She locked herself, her heart, away. She swore never to make the same mistakes again.
Alastor visited Y/n's grave at least once every year. Always on the anniversary of her death, sometimes more frequently. That was where he too had met his death. As he had stooped low to place the bouquet of flowers he had brought on the surface of the hard-packed earth, the hunter had shot him, thinking he was a deer.
His arrival in Hell had been uneventful and not all together shocking. Alastor had been raised in a Christian household and although he never truly had faith in the matter once he had been old enough to form his own opinions, he had still always assumed that if there was life after death he was going to end up in Hell. He also knew that if he had ended up down here, Y/n had too.
The search was all consuming and fruitless. Every demon he interrogated, every one he thought had the slightest spark of his love within them, never had a single clue what he was talking about. Half the city was a snow storm and before long, that half was the only part he hadn't searched. Allegedly it was the territory of some new overlord known only as Frost who had taken Hell by storm - literally - just a few years before. Alastor already had a distaste in his mouth for the overlords, a sort of hatred spawned from something close to envy. He figured that worst case scenario, he could just add this Frost character to the list over overlords he had already taken out in the year since his arrival.
The chill of the air as he stepped over the border was a cruel reminder of the truth of his life. Alastor welcomed the cold with open arms, wondered if Y/n had already been killed since arriving in Hell. He had heard of the exterminations, it wasn't too wild of an idea. The thought gnawed on his mind like a parasite, intent on seeing him dead. Alastor progressed.
The fact that in death he still felt such things as hunger had been a mystery to him. There was something poetic about it, something forlorn in the idea that hunger and touch were the only things that followed a person to their grave. He stepped into the restaurant, his stomach growling, and walked up to the bar.
"Do you have beignets?"
Alastor knew the answer before the barkeep even shook his head. He sighed, falling on to one of the stools.
"Sausage and grits."
"Coming right up."
Alastor tapped his fingers on the counter, watching the world around him. Hope was running thin, anxieties and hurt taking over. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, how much more disappointment he could take.
"Haven't seen you around before, Darling," a voice purred from behind him, sending shockwaves of pain through his chest, "new in town?"
He summoned his microphone into his hand, ready to fight. It didn't matter that the demon most likely had no idea the effect of their words, the connections they had to his own past life. All that mattered was that he felt like he was being mocked, the world was parroting his life back to him because Y/n was out of his reach and probably would be forever more. He turned to face the person, a sickening grin spread tight across his face.
The demon had a clearing around her, the crowd avoiding her at all costs and whispering to one another behind the cover of their hands. Her tail flicked back and forth, ice emanating from the place her feet hit the floor.
There was something oddly familiar about her, the cocky smirk, the confidence. Alastor got to his feet. He leered over her and the woman didn't flinch one bit.
"Who's asking?"
A threat. The smile on the smaller demon's face grew, snow beginning to pile up on the floor in the corners of the room.
"You know, it's really far too cruel of you to go around with a voice like that." she hummed thoughtfully, a finger to her chin, "Gets a girl's hopes up just to shatter 'em on the floor."
Alastor could feel it now, the cold nipping at his extremities. Wind picked up in the indoor space and demons began rushing out through the door as quickly as they could. Alastor stood his ground.
"Ah, so you're the one responsible for this little snow town?"
"Why yes, I am."
"You're rather cruel yourself, you know." he mused, "Using my own words against me, how did you know? Do you overlords have some way to read a person's mind? Find the center of their desire and turn it to a weapon?"
Only now did the woman's expression change. Her calm facade morphed into confusion as the winds died down.
"What do you mean?"
"'Haven't seen you around here before, Darling, new in town?'" Alastor scoffed.
Y/n's eyes widened with a sudden recognition. It only fueled Alastor's anger as he took a step forward, shadows rising from the ground at his feet.
"I-"
"Just moved in, actually." the demon cut him off, holding a hand out for him to take, palm to the floor.
Alastor looked at her, disgust etched into his features.
"How could you..." he trailed off.
Eyes flicking over her form, Alastor examined the demoness carefully. Sure, she was different. She looked half dead, frost bitten to the extreme but, there was certainly something familar.
"Who are..."
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Slowly, he took her hand in his. It was icy to the touch, sent shivers down his spine. With a practiced grace, he leaned down and planted a feathery kiss on the back of her hand.
"Ah, a charmer." Y/n smiled as he raised his head to hers again, "I'll have to be careful around you."
"Y/n."
It wasn't a question, he knew the answer. Alastor could feel it in his bones.
"Alastor."
She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Alastor watched her movements in astonishment. Disbelief laid thick on his body, too heavy to allow him to move.
"I'm so sorry." she whispered into his ear, her breath a cold breeze.
"I... why are you sorry?" he asked, pulling her away from him.
Alastor placed his hands on her shoulders, brushing off a bit of snow that had landed there with utmost care.
"I'm the one who's sorry. I should have come with you, I shouldn't have said the things I said, I sh-"
"I love you."
She couldn't hold the words in anymore. Icicles of tears tinkled like glass as they fell from her cheeks and landed on the floor.
"I... I love you, Alastor. I can't... I always regretted... I..."
"Me too."
He pulled her back into his arms, this time holding her body tightly to his. The cold burned but he didn't care. The whistling of the wind outside seemed to quiet.
"I love you so much, Y/n. I am so sorry."
"I'm so sorry."
Y/n pulled back, cupping Alastor's face in her hands.
"Never again."
"Never what, my love."
"Never again will I be parted from you."
"I thought I'd never see you again." Alastor admitted, "I was beginning to lose hope."
"Me too, me too."
"Never again."
"Never again."
----
Next Part -> Day Lilies (Alastor x Blizzard demon!Reader x Angel!OC)
A/N I am such a little slut for a good reunion scene.
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