valeriewinks777

[valeriewinks777]

❤️~SEÑORITA~❤️

Pairing: Vassago x OC!

Requested by my lovely bestie @earth-angel17

WARNINGS: none!

A BITTER SIGHT TO BEHOLD, A Goetia prince stripped of his power and status, while the arrogante brother in law of his literally went on his knees and ripped his coat as if he's Michael Jackson.

Walking with a dark cloud hanging over his head, Vassago grumbles, "Pedazo de mierda," he mutters under his breath, his gloved palm reaching to drag down his face.

"Sir?" The demon walking behind him speaks, "you seem troubled."

"Of course I am," Vassago replies, following with a sigh, "it was hard to sit and witness what they did to him. If anything, despite Stolas's choices, he is a better demon than Andrealphus..."

But in Hell, evil prevails.

Vassago...the Prince of Good Nature.

Does good nature even exist in this place? Well, in light there is darkness, and in darkness, there is light.

Someone has to be the good one in a cesspool of sinners and waste of space demons. Even if the weight of trying to be good natured is heavy. Vassago believes in fair chances, wanting to hear both sides of a story, analyzing all the facts before making the final decision.

But what he witnessed before him was orchestrated by the hands of Andrealphus and his sister, Stella.

Both beings wanting to dip their hands in the cookie jar, and in the end, succeeding at doing so.

Vassago sighs as he shakes his head.

What am I doing? I specifically came here to avoid the stress, and yet I brought it with me.

Turning to address the small demon who follows him, Vassago smiles. "You can explore if you want, I'll be fine by myself."

Surprised, the demon responds. "Are you sure?"

Vassago nods, waving a dismissive hand as he begins to walk forward. "Have fun," he calls over his shoulder, purposely disappearing down the coastline of Hell's beaches.

Funny thing to think about, Hell having its own beaches. Well, because they aren't exactly ordinary beaches. The water is tinted red, while the sand are broken down pieces of coal, warmed by Hell's pentagram sun.

It can be an intimidating place, especially when the sun is beginning to set behind the ocean.

But to Vassago, it's a work of art, a silver of paradise untouched and pure, kept a secret from the normal sinner demons who would taint it upon first touch.

His tail feathers drag behind him gently while he walks, both hands clasped behind his back while he tries his best to clear his mind of the intruding thoughts.

The solution? A distraction.

The distraction...a lovely señorita who stands 30 feet straight ahead, dipping her bare feet in the water in an almost dance-like manner, her arms extended in the air while she walks on the line where land touches the sea.

Her presence isn't unfamiliar, he can count on two hands how many times he's seen her from afar, the head of purple hair bright against the dim colors that bend all to well.

There were times he tried to follow her as she slipped through the crowds, only to emerge on the other side without her standing there.

For weeks, she's been a thought in the back of his mind, a temptation to address her and see if anything will spark.

It can't just be coincidence that he's not only seen you in Pentagram City, but here as well.

Despite his better judgement, a surge of excitement grips his chest at the sudden sight of the girl who manages to be there one moment, gone the next.

Maybe this is his chance to finally introduce himself...to finally break down the wall that's put in front of him every time he thinks about approaching her.

Exhaling quietly, running a hand down his suit and feathers—making sure nothing is out of place, he walks forward, careful not to move too slow or too fast.

Though the closer he gets, the warmer his cheeks suddenly feel.

He shakes his head. "Ponte las pilas, Vassago," he says under his breath. He can do this.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He breaks the silence, catching the attention of the demon.

She turns, surprised and almost embarrassed by being seen when she thought she was alone.

Her eyes travel up and down this demon once, taking in his royal, rich, appearance. He's definitely not a regular sinner demon, perhaps a prince? He looks like a prince.

"Yeah, it is," she half smiles, "it's the only place in Hell that's actually..."

"Pure?" He raises an eyebrow.

She nods. "I was gonna say spared from Hell's dirty touch, but pure sums it up."

Vassago chuckles under his breath, her joke causing an amused smile to spread across his lips.

Like a gentleman, he bows, extending an open palm. "Vassago," he says.

She takes his hand. "Angie," she responds, "nice to meet you."

"You as well, Angelica," he remarks, a playful glint appearing in his eyes momentarily, before disappearing without a trace.

Angelica, that's a first. Not her real name but...the nickname does sound kinda cute. She couldn't help but notice the hint of Spanish in his accent when he said it, and deep down...she secretly liked it.

As Vassago stands up straight, his gaze glances over at the setting sun. The hours are nearly up, but...a few moments can be spared.

"Would you like to walk with me?" He asks.

Her brow furrows. "Why should I trust you?"

Ah, right, Hell. Home of sinners and evil. She has all the reasons to not trust him.

He shrugs. "You have a fair point but, I would enjoy the wholesome company for a little while. Besides, we both were heading in the same direction."

She laughs softly. "Well, you have a fair point too. Guess we were..."

Turning on her heels, she winks. "Shall we?"

...

As the saying goes, time flies when you're having fun.

They both walked, chatting about mindless things, occasionally chuckling at a joke or laughing at each other for something silly. And like Vassago claimed, wholesome company was indeed what the two of you needed.

Company where someone isn't trying to always kill you or fuck you, company where two people are just enjoying the simplicity's of conversation and walking. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Though of course, as the hour went on, the sun finally set, casting an eerie darkness over the once colorful beach.

Angie walks to the edge, where the exit stairway will take her back to Pentagram City.

"That was fun," she grins, "thanks for the company."

Vassago grins, clearly doing his best to hide the blush that refuses to go away. "It was my pleasure, señorita," he awkwardly pretends to scratch his cheek.

Will he be considered too weird or too forward for asking this? Maybe, but what the hell?

"Since we both had a good time...would you perhaps like to meet again? For coffee? Tea? Or whatever it is that you like?"

Angie chuckles. "Are you asking me on a date?"

Immediately, a look of shock is etched on Vassago's face, caught off guard by the sudden assumption that is both...a truth and not the truth.

"Well, I wasn't going to call it a date but...if you want it to be a date, then yes."

Amused by his dismissive nature, Angie replies. "How about we meet here at the beach again? This could be our official meeting spot. Sound good?"

Vassago nods. "Sounds wonderful," he bows once more, "adios Angie."

She chuckles. "Adios," she replies before turning and walking up the steps, disappearing on the other side.

Vassago remains footed in place. For the first time in what feels like centuries, his heart flutters.

Smiling, he murmurs.

"Ella es hermosa..."

She's beautiful.

.

.

.

HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

[valeriewinks777]

⚡STAND BY ME⚡

(Vox x OC!)

Requested by my bestie @earth-angel17 ❤️

WARNING: mild swear words.

🎶"He'd be powerless without the other Vees!"🎶

Sickening lyrics sung by THAT of the Radio Demon. At the time, Vox could've cared less what Alastor sang, due to being blinded by rage from Alastor's UNWANTED sudden arrival after seven years.

Little did Vox know that those so-called lyrics, were rather a fucking prediction.

Because in reality...Vox really was powerless without the other Vees.

...

"YOU'RE FUCKING REPLACING ME?!" Vox screamed, his face contorting into a screen of blurry static. "You can't do that to me! I'm the TV DEMON for a reason you piece of shit! Hell would be NOTHING without me!"

"Quit your yelling ya baby," Velvette rolled her eyes in annoyance, one hand holding her phone as she addresses Vox with her attention spilt in two between the flat headed prince and her socials.

"You should've seen it coming you know," she remarked bitterly, one leg crossing over the other. "Your little obsession with Alastor has gone too far, which in the end means you're jeopardizing everything we are!"

Vox glared, his hands balled into tightly clenched fists as he growled. "I'm the one operating all of Hell's electronics! You can't find someone better then me!"

"We can, and we have." She sets her phone down, "so be a big boy and just accept it."

...

And just like that, everything Vox had worked tirelessy for...was gone, snatched from his palms before he could stop it.

It was like Velvette said...he did let his obsession to destroy Alastor jeopardize things. But still...he had everything under control!

He was right there at the very top! Respected, admired, feared, wanted, had a shit ton of a money to boot, his own place at the studio.

And yet here he sits, in the middle of a small basement in a less admirable section of Hell, with a few TV screens surrounded him, all revealing video footage of Hell and it's demons simply passing by the unseen surveillance cameras Vox stashed at every corner, watching as some younger CEO punk control and play with all of Vox's toys.

It isn't Voxtech if Vox isn't the one controlling it! How could this demon steal not only his entire life's work, but also the rights to the company name and motto?!

With his hands pressed under his chin, he stares at the footage on the screen for what seems like hours, spying to see what everyone is doing when he isn't there to monitor or correct things.

Already, it feels like everything is falling to shit. But then again, its his jealousy talking. Deep down, though he's not one to like the truth, Voxtech is booming still.

Without it's rightful owner.

A heavy sigh escapes Vox's lips as his hands go to cover his face, before he hears the familiar footsteps belonging to a girl walking down the basement steps.

She stands on the last step, crossing her arms as she speaks. "Are you gonna sit and stew in your mancave all night again?"

Vox glares. "It's not a mancave," he growls under his breath, "it's my office!"

She scoffs a little, stepping forward with her arms still crossed over her chest. "Well offices are meant for work, not for sitting and sulking like you've been doing for the past week."

Vox drags his claws down his face. "Will you not pester me for one damn second Angie?! I'm trying to think!"

She sighs. "Why don't you think upstairs where it's not so dusty, it's not healthy sitting down here in this place where there isn't light."

He sits further forward on the cramped table that holds all his screens and computer, his hands extending to type on the keyboard. "You know you're supposed to be my girlfriend, not my mom."

Angie pinches the bridge of her nose, before casting aside a strand of her long purple air behind her ear, adjusting her glasses.

Every damn time she tries to talk or even reason with this demon, he always bites back, refusing to let her help him.

This bastard will never admit to being vulnerable or needing help.

But she still wants to try, despite always knowing the outcome of trying to reach through to him.

"Vox can't you just talk to me?"

"Why?" He turns a cold shoulder, "all we do is just argue."

"Because you're not being open with me," she remarks matter-of-factly, placing a tender hand on his tense shoulder. She feels his body stiffen even more from the subtle touch, so in a reassuring manner, she squeezes lightly.

"You are right, I'm supposed to be your girlfriend," she turns his chair, "and being your girlfriend means I can help you. So please...just talk to me."

Talk...Vox wants to scoff, to tell her that he doesn't need the stupid pity, or those useless empty words of comfort that serve to help for three seconds.

Yet that stubborn look in her eyes goes to prove that she's dead set on getting him to talk, to share the weight he's carrying all on his own.

That simple look of compassion, determination, and a sprinkle of stubbornness is enough to get Vox to finally cave. His shoulders slump forward, dropping his gaze to the floor as he mutters.

"It's just not fair Angie...I worked so hard to get where I was, I poured my sweat, blood, and tears for that company, for those two...only for them to let me go like that, without even second guessing..."

He sighs, quickly spinning away so that his back faces Angie. An action he does whenever he feels like he's about to break down. "I just... don't feel needed anymore," he whispers faintly, so faintly she has to strain to her.

Yet the words lingered in the air between them, Angie's eyes widening at the sight of the demon she never expected to see so...vulnerable. It doesn't seem like Vox--the prideful, egotistical, emotional Vox she's always known and seen.

This is the side of him Hell demanded he keep to himself if he wants to thrive. The side of him no one else besides her is able to see.

She wraps her arms around him, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze as she replies.

"Just because you aren't with the other Vees, or the owner of Voxtech anymore...you're still needed."

He scoffs. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," she replies, "I may not show it all the time but...I need you, just as much as you need me," she smiles when she sees Vox's red eyes widen.

His reactions are always so priceless, she wish she had a camera to take a picture.

"Besides," Angie continues with a gentle touch on his chin, "I always thought those two were holding you back," she wiggle her eyebrows, hoping to get a smile or even a small chuckle from Vox.

At to her satisfaction, Vox chuckles, shaking his head in mild amusement as his hand reaches up to cup her face, brushing his thumb along the curve of her cheek.

"Took you long enough to admit you need me sugar," he smirks mischievously.

Angie rolls her eyes. "Of course that's the only part of my speech you actually caught," she shakes her head, "but above all, you don't need Voxtech, you don't need the Vees... you're still Vox, and you have the ability to take charge of your own empire without the help of those wanting favors in return."

Vox smiles, feeling touched as he places a kiss on her forehead.

"I don't deserve you..."

"No, you don't," she remarks, laughing at his sour glare. "But I'm still here because in all honesty, where would you be without me there to add some fun in your life?"

"Definitely not here now," he replies, sweeping her off her feet effortlessly, holding her bridal style with a cheeky grin. "And where would you be without your knight in armor?"

She rolls her eyes again. "Not having to deal with your tantrums?"

Vox laughs. "You know you love me."

"Do I know that?" She feigns confusion, before smiling, "yes, yes I do."

He smirks, tossing her over his shoulder as he walks forward. "I'll make it to the top again, and once I do, you'll be right beside me.

"As your assistant?"

"No," he smirks, "as my Queen."

Hope you liked it!

[valeriewinks777]

If any of you have Wattpad follow me @valeriewinks777

I write Hazbin Hotel, The Lost Boys, even Sonic the Hedgehog related things!

Give me a follow if you want a request or even just to read new stories with gripping plots!!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[valeriewinks777]

ꕥHOMEꕥ

Ahkmenrah x reader

(based on the events after Night At A Museum 3)

After the tablet, and Ahkmenrah included, were left behind at the British museum, the New York museum became just like any other regular museum.

Still, lifeless. Just like how it was always supposed to be. Though that wasn't the only thing that was affected. Larry left his job as a nightguard to pursue other goals, and focus on his son. But you, as ridiculous as it was, refused to leave.

There wasn't even anything to guard anymore besides wax exhibits, yet you didn't have the heart to leave. So you remained a nightguard over lifeless exhibits, wishing almost every night that one magical day, everything would go back to the way it was.

That day didn't happen until three years later, when the tablet of Ahkmenrah had been brought back to the New York museum.

And just like it always was, everything became alive yet again.

You sit on a bench in the corner, watching the main room of the museum be a bustle of color and sound, all the exhibits alive and thriving yet again after three years of pure motionlessness, frozen in time.

You always thought that once the tablet returned, you would be happy.

But no, you aren't. And why? Because the one thing you wanted standing beside you most of all, was him... Ahkmenrah.

You had searched every exhibit, and even asked the British nightguard woman who helped bring the tablet to New York if Ahkmenrah was here, but she said no.

He had no reason to come back to New York. His new home, new life, is in the British Museum with his family. That's where he really belongs, you tell yourself over and over again, despite the sting of pain and betrayal in your chest.

It's almost unfair, how a caveman exhibit named Laa reunited with his British nightguard lover.

And yet you weren't reunited with your Pharaoh. It's how it should be, you say to yourself. It was never meant to be. How could it even actually work out? He's only ever brought to life due to that tablet, and even then, it's only at night.

You could never hold his hand in the sunlight. You could never have a life with him outside this museum. After all, he's a 4,000 year old mummy. It's insanity.

Yet here you are, knowing all these facts, and still finding yourself walking to the empty exhibit belonging to Ahkmenrah when he stayed here, and laying down beside his hollow sarcophagus, staring at the ceiling coated with engrained symbols.

Damn your foolish heart, you let your guard down, you fell for him truly madly deeply. And now look at you. You're a mess. You just can't get the memories out of your head...memories of late night chats with him, walking around the museum, learning about each other's culture, random dancing...it all haunts you.

You were forced to say goodbye, without even confessing your feelings to him.

And now you don't think you'll ever see him again.

At some point, you fall asleep, not even knowing how many hours of the night you've wasted slumbering. But at some point--whether it was dream or reality, you cannot say--you could have sworn you felt a gentle hand brushing down your hair, soft fingers grazing against the back of your neck, and a silky voice whispering in your ear.

"I'm home, darling..."

SHOULD I MAKE A PART TWO?❤️

[valeriewinks777]

Ahkmenrah: Happy holidays Y/N

Y/N: wow for me?! Thanks! *Opens gift and gasps* oh...my...gosh...

Ahkmenrah: *smiles* it's the scepter of the Sun God. It's been in my family for over 4,000 years.

Y/N: *Dumbfounded* wow...this...this is incredible. Uhh, oh! *Grabs bag* here, I got something for you too. *Panicking on the inside*

Ahkmenrah: oh thank you, *opens it, smile instantly dropping* ...

Y/N: *nervous* uhh, it's--it's a neck pillow.

Ahkmenrah: ...right

Y/N: *thinking: "fuck I should've gotten the Electric blanket too!"*

[valeriewinks777]

Set Free🦋

pairing: Y/N x Alastor

*Your POV*

You walk restlessly--almost as if you're waiting for someone late into the night--down the cracked steps of your crumbling mansion in one of the many rings of Hell.

Your feet glide across the stained floor gracefully, the white of your wedding gown picking up the dust and debris like a feather duster.

You would have been frantic at the thought of your white wedding dress touching filth, though lately, you do not care as much as you used to. You're dress has aged over the centuries of your days in Hell, slowly decomposing away...much like you...

You approach two large wooden doors, pushing them open to reveal the vast darkened ballroom, merely lit by Hell's moonlight shining through the tinted blue windows hanging on your wall.

The smooth, polished glass dancefloor sparkles in the light, even under all the dents and cracks, its still beautiful.

Your feet lead you to the center of the ballroom, as your eyes take in your empty, quiet surroundings.

The grand piano that sits in the corner hides under a white sheet, rotting away and it's keys rusted from years of neglect.

The once red and silver lined velvet couches have now been chewed due to the rats that will become new residents of this place...

Once you depart.

You inhale a shuddering breath, feeling the warmth glow of the moonlight bask on your body.

It is nearly midnight...you only have these last final minutes to yourself. Before you finally...give up.

Your eyes catch sight of yourself in the glass beneath your feet. Slowly, you look down.

What looks back, is the sight of you, a pale, bluish skinned demon woman, whose left arm is merely bone and no flesh.

Your hair trails down your back stopping at your tailbone, your curvy waist revealing a portion of your rib cage through the ripped part of your wedding dress.

You are a decomposing sight...and yet...you still see that flicker of beauty you once had.

Your eyes are a sparkly blue, bright and shining, even against the darkness of Hell. Your round face shape still having its color, and your smile sad yet...beautiful.

Even after so long...you still wear your wedding dress, your ripped and stained veil trailing down your hair, and your dried decomposed bouquet of flowers in your hands. 

You never once took your dress off...it was all you had left.

All you had left of your once human life on earth, before you had taken your life at quarter three under an ancient oak tree.

When you awoke, you found yourself in Hell...looking into the nearest mirror to see your once white skin now tainted blue, and your once beautiful perfect body now missing bits and pieces, revealing your bones.

You are a Bride Demon. The only Bride Demon in Hell, the only Bride Demon who has ever existed.

You are Demon who is obsessed with finding true love, that you couldn't see the sick love consume you entirely, twisting you, bending you to its will.

You fell victim to such sick love on the night of your wedding. Your husband had began to beat you, and you, killed him in self defense. Before ending your own life due to the crime you just committed.

You had no ill intentions towards your husband, you loved him--or so you believed--but the night of your wedding, when he was too drunk to be able to contain his actions, you had no choice but to end him, just to keep yourself from dying.

Though your action drove you to insanity, to the point where you could not live with yourself.

For your crimes, you were sent to Hell. And as for your punishment, your once beautiful skin and body slowly began to rot away...leaving you a horrid sight to others.

Making it so that no one could ever love you...which is all you have ever desired most in life...

For centuries, you've hidden away in this abandoned mansion you stand in now, rotting away with each and every passing day.

You found comfort and solitude being here, hiding away in these walls with fading wallpaper.

You and this house face the same fate. One day, you and this house will be forgotten.

But at least, you say to yourself, that this home you've grown to love will disappear with you.

You extend your arms, imagining a partner worthy of your love placing his hands in yours and on your waist, waltzing to the silence of the ballroom, hearing a song created by your minds.

A soft smile spreads across your tainted blue lips, as indeed, the thoughts of a grinning man fills your mind.

His name...Alastor.

You had met him shortly after coming to Hell, and instantly, you fell in love with him.

He has that effect on women, of course. Due to the fact that he is one of Hell's Overlords, and attractive unlike other demons you've seen.

But you knew deep down that you were in love with him not because of his looks or rank...you loved him for him. You were probably the first demoness to have ever loved him for who he was on the inside.

You loved him because unlike anyone here, and even your romances in the human world...he truly made you feel like a woman. He made you feel alive...and worthy. And beautiful.

You wanted to be his wife, more then anything in the world. You believed that meeting him, you finally found your happily ever after you dreamed of ever since you were a child watching Disney princesses receive there happily ever afters.

Though you soon realized that someone like Alastor, could never open his heart to anyone, let alone you.

He never found love or romance worthy of his time, he enjoyed being married to himself and his passion for entertaining and making deals.

So on the day you confessed your feelings to him, he merely laughed at you, before telling you that he would never be yours, causing you to be here now. Hiding in the crumpling pieces of an old Overlord's used to be mansion, while you hold your poorly stitched heart in the palms of your hands.

Centuries has passed since you have seen his face, but you still remember him. You remember his smile, his red and black hair, his antlers, his radio like voice that brims with charm...

You couldn't help yourself to forget him. He unknowingly made sure that you would never forget him, that you would spend countless crying hours over the truth that he would never be yours.

You would never know what he was thinking, or what his feelings were because of how well he hid behind his wicked smile.

The true power of torture...no blade could ever hurt like this.

Of going centuries without the one you love and truly desire, of him being so close yet so far...

no sort of weapon could ever compare to this silent torture.

You love Alastor...more then you have ever loved anyone ever before...

And allowing your heart slowly be consumed by this pain, you find yourself here now, dancing your final moments before you would accept your demise.

You continue to waltz, before you feel the sudden gentle caress of gloved hands gingerly clasp your hands, forcing your eyes to open to be face to face with the grinning demon who mercilessly played with your heart until it had reached it's maximum...

Alastor.

He stands before you, tall and strapping, dressed in a red and black version of a tux, his hair combed back to reveal his deer ears more, and a single rose head pinned in his coat.

Your eyes widen, and your lips part. He was gorgeous...stunning, breathtaking.

You could only pray that you looked beautiful in his eyes.

Alastor begins the waltz with you, never murmuring a single word, but merely staring at you with his smile softening ever so slightly.

How you dreamed of this moment when he would take your hands in his and dance with you. How you painted pictures in your mind of such fantasies...

You feel your weakened heart beat a little harder, and your eyes stinging with tears of joy. He is here with you, in your final moments.

Alastor and you continue the dance, leaving behind trails of footprints amongst dust, his fluidity and grace leaving you breathless and even more in love with him.

He was perfect...the most perfect man you have ever loved...

He was the one you've searched for all your time on Earth as a human.

And he here was now...dancing with you.

As you feel the dance slow to nearly a complete stop, he raises a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, his touch leaving a warm sensation within you. Making you desire more...but being denied your plead, like a dog begging there master for love and attention.

How close he was to you...it made you feel a pinch in your chest, the desire to reach up and kiss his lips burning within you.

Though you cannot do so. You don't want to lose this little fraction of affection due to a reckless kiss.

You've begged for this, and you are going to stand here and allow yourself to be still, and breathe in this little affection he will allow himself to give.

His touch lingers to your cheeks, brushing aside the few tears that fell from your eyes.

All you can see, is his grinning face, staring into yours.

You begin to feel your heart ache suddenly, before it grows into a more intense pain, making you gasp softly and hiss in pain.

The time has come now...it is time to say goodbye.

For centuries, you've manifested for your demise to come, to take you and end your suffering, but standing here now in front of Alastor, the one you love with all your heart, you beg the invisible forces of Hell to give you more time.

More time to be with Alastor...to feel his fingers touch your skin. More time to feel just a little loved.

Your knees begin to grow weak, and you step forward to clutch onto Alastor for balance, though as you reach for him, he disappears from the air, and you fall to the ground.

A hallucination...your mind's one last act of torture before you give yourself entirely to the hungry void.

He was never here.

Your heart is shattering, cutting your insides like glass. You roll onto your right side to stare out at the tinted blue window one last time.

You curl yourself in a tight ball, tears running down your face as you beg.

Please...please...just a little more time. Please...I don't want to go.

You feel your breathing shorten by each passing second, your hands shaking as you grip onto your chest.

The final pieces of your soul are being taken away...and you fight to hold on just a little longer. 

As you lay there, your existence slowly being sucked away through Hell's straw, you think of Alastor. You think of his smile, you pretend to hear his voice...you think of how he made you feel.

Such a wicked game he played with you...without even knowing it. Being clueless to your true feelings and desires.

And even though initially, he is the cause of you being here now, reaching the point of your permanent demise due to the heartbreak...you wished he was here. 

You wished he would caress your face, and tell you that everything will be okay...

You wished you could look into his eyes, and see him.

The pain slowly begins to intense even more, forcing you to shut your eyes and accept it.

Unknowingly, a shadow appears behind you, kneeling down to where you lay, its hand reaching to touch your back...your last touch of comfort.

You can't see the shadow, nor do you even realize that there even is a shadow behind you, but suddenly, you begin to feel warmth...like...your going home finally.

Your eyes slowly flutter shut, your breathing coming to a slow, before you hear a faint whisper in your ear, that you can't tell whether or not if its real, or if its your mind speaking.

Don't be afraid...you will be set free...

Set free...

The words soothe you, as your breathing relaxes. After years of abuse in your human life, and centuries of heartbreak...you've finally reached the end.

You won't feel anything anymore...you will finally rest.

Your soul will become weightless, and disappear in the air.

You will be free.

Your hand falls away from your chest, as you breathe out your last final breath.

Your body relaxes...and your eyes never open.

Your time has come...your demise has reached you.

You are no longer trapped in your demoness body, you are gone.

★★★

Hours pass, and the shadow still remains beside your lifeless body.

The shadow lifted you onto its lap, so that it could cradle you in its arms.

You never stir, nor do your eyes ever open.

The shadow gingerly cups your face, its gloved thumb brushing against your cold cheek.

This isn't a shadow cradling you, no...this is Alastor.

Before your demise, you unknowingly summoned him to come to you, to be there for your final moments before you would give up fighting entirely and lay yourself down for Hell to swallow.

He witnessed you accept your fate...with a soft smile on your blue lips as you exhaled your final breath.

Alastor raises a hand to touch yours that he placed on your stomach, his crimson red eyes staring into your face.

He's waited a long time for you to finally stop fighting and give in...for the sake of your tortured soul.

He's known how long and how deeply you loved him. So many times, he wanted to scream at you, he wanted you to let him go so that you could have a chance in your new life in Hell.

Though you never did...you allowed yourself the love you felt for him to consume you until there was nothing left to consume. 

He stood by and witnessed you torture your soul, being able to do nothing to fix it.

He couldn't love you, not the way you deserved to be loved, and his powers wouldn't fix what was already too engrained in you.

He had to stand by and watch as the final piece of you faded away. 

You had proven to him...that a heart could still break once it stops beating.

Though deep down he wasn't in love with you, he did care about you. He did feel something for you...a feeling of friendship, of acceptance for who you were.

Though you would never accept what he wanted to--and was willing--to give you. You only wanted him as your eternal lover....

Alastor exhales a little breath. "You poor dear..." he whispers to yourself, "driven to demise from a love you desired...and never seeing what was already in front of you."

You don't say a word.

He leans down and gently places a soft tender kiss on your cold forehead, placing his one hand on your heart. 

"Don't worry, my darling. No longer will you suffer..."

His hand begins to glow green, as he focuses on setting your soul to freedom.

His final act of kindness, his final gift to you...to set you free.

Slowly, your body begins to detach parts of itself, the detached pieces shaping into beautiful blue butterflies, before your entire body is gone, and transformed into hundreds of blue butterflies that fly away into the air, free at last.

He watches the butterflies fly elegant and gracefully in the air, having no knowledge as to where to go, but not caring about it.

They could go anywhere they wanted...there were no restrictions.

He could never give you his heart from when you were a living demoness...but, he could only hope that what he did give you, was enough for you to finally be set to rest. To finally be free from pain, and weightless.

He rises to his feet, picking up your left behind bouquet of dead flowers.

He touches the petal of a dried up blue rose, before turning to leave the crumbling abandoned mansion, with this only keepsake of yours in his hands.

As he entered Hell's streets, he watched as the butterflies that is you float higher into Hell's skies, reaching for the doorway that will release you from Hell, and allow you entrance to Earth.

A soft smile forms on Alastor's face, knowing that he did something no one ever could.

He set you free.

And that to his eyes...is the perfect act of love.

He turns on his heels and heads for home, the thoughts of your beautifully painted face on his mind.

He will never forget you...he will hold your bouquet of flowers as his reminder of you, and the thoughts of your beautiful soul transformed into butterflies, taking flight.

He enters the door to his home, walking towards the fireplace where he sits and reads a book.

Placing your flowers...beside him in a vase.

Though he was never able to give you the one thing you ever wanted, which was his love. He gave you the one thing you truly needed...

Freedom.