I Love Alastor Because He’s So Used To People Being Impressed By Him That It Gets Under His Skin SOOOO

title: dancing in the rain

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: PG

genre: slight, baby angst/ major fluff

pairing: Alastor x Reader

summary: all hell had was acid rain, and all you wanted was the rainstorms you knew on earth.

Rain hardly ever was an occurrence in Hell. And when it was, it was acid rain. You sighed, looking out the window and watched the green acid pouring down on everything, missing desperately the rain storms that you had on earth. Being the youngest at the hotel, you remembered more clearly the burn of the sun on your skin, the cool breeze on a fall day and even the mix of the humidity in the air that felt like it would choke you but the reprieve as a rainstorm came and fell from the heavens.

“What has you so melancholy, my dear?” A voice asked behind you, shockingly quiet all things considered, toning down the announcer quality in his voice.

“Hey Alastor, just thinking is all.” You replied and smiled at him, not wanting to explain that the acid rain made you sad.

“Now, whatever it is that you’re thinking about is casting a dark shadow over your usually lovely face. So, tell me, what’s wrong? What kind of hotelier might I be if I didn’t ensure that all the patrons here were happy?” He said, the announcer tone coming back into his voice, which made you wince. Knowing that meant he knew you were lying so he was going to put on a show if you were. You sigh.

“It’s the rain.” You explain.

“The what now?” He asks, all effects gone from his voice except shock and a bit of confusion.

“The rain. I miss the rain. Not this rain. The rain on earth. The smell of the earth after a good rain storm, the way that especially in the summer when it was so hot, the rain was a cool reprieve. It always felt like…” You trailed off.

“Forgiveness?” Alastor finished, looking outside the hotel now too. You blink and look up at him.

“Yes. Are you sure you don’t read minds?” You chuckle, resting your head on your hand. You suddenly feel his microphone tap your head. You look up at him as holds his arm out to you.

“Come with me.” He says, not giving you time to feel confused. As when you take his arm you shadow travel with him to the other side of the hotel appearing at the door of his room.

“This is your room.” You say, confused now.

“Ever observant. A skill many would kill for I’m sure.” He smiles at you, but the sarcasm is evident as he holds open the door for you and you step into his room.

“Just a certified Sherlock Holmes.” You roll your eyes, taking his sarcasm.

“I never had the chance to read those books.” He mused for a moment, as he shut his door and walked around you heading to the forest area. You stayed near the door.

“I have the collection if you’d like to borrow it and read them.” You explain. “They are annotated though, so you’ll have to put up with my notes.” You explain.

“That would be lovely, dear.” Alastor says stepping on the grass and you watch as he takes off his coat and hangs it on a coat rack that appeared suddenly. He turns to you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I-I guess?” You say, more like a question. You jog over to him and start walking next to him. “Are you killing me in your forest because I complained about acid rain?”

“Oh, no. Not you at least.” Alastor chuckles. “I want to show you something.” You look up at him skeptically.

“Hey Alastor, can you take smaller steps?” You ask having to jog to keep up with him. He looks down and hums seeing how you were almost running next to him.

“Good to know that if I had to catch you I could do so without breaking a sweat.” He says, as he walks slower and taking smaller steps, allowing you to actually walk, instead of run.

“Har har.” You say deadpanned and roll your eyes. You walk into a clearing that has a cabin in the middle. The whole forest felt like it was shrouded in the twilight of fall when lightening bugs gently floated around and the sky was a perpetual shade of blue, purple and pink. You finally looked up and around, seeing the trees, the bugs, the animals, the sky. Tears formed in your eyes. “Alastor, this is beautiful. It looks just like-“ You stop, your throat constricting as emotion overtakes you. You feel Alastor’s clawed hand rest on your shoulder.

“Just like earth?” He finishes, speaking softer than you had ever heard. You nod and look at him, watching him take everything in and then looking down at you.

“Come, let me show you something else.” He says, walking away and heading to the cabin. You walk in and suddenly feel at home. The decor is a little dated and you feel transported to the 1920’s, but it’s all homey. There’s a kitchen, a living room, a lounge and a hall way leading to what you assumed to be a bed room. You walk through the living room, taking it in but trying not to pry at the photos Alastor had in frames along the mantel of the fire place, you see at the back door there is almost like a deck, with a more modern porch swing.

“The porch swing is a nice addition.” You mention, smiling a bit at the modern accessory in what felt like a time capsule.

Alastor chuckles as he sets his microphone down and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He joins you next to the window. “You haven’t seen the best part.” He murmurs, unusually quiet and reserved. You don’t mention the change in demeanor though, wanting to savor the quiet and this almost more authentic view of the Radio Demon.

“What’s the best-“ You stop when you hear it. The start of a pitter patter of rain on the roof, that builds and when you look outside, it’s raining. “Is that?” You blink a few times.

“It is. Safe for you to touch as well. You won’t get hurt.” He smiles a genuine looking smile as he goes over to the record player and starts playing music. Your hand touches the door, feeling the coolness of the water slide down the glass pane. You can’t stop yourself as Alastor fiddles with the record player, you open the door, quickly closing it so no rain would get in the cabin and rush outside off the deck. Twirling in the grass as the rain poured down soaking you.

“What are you doing?” Alastor yelled from the door, watching you like you had gone mad.

“Dancing in the rain!” You yelled back, a smile feeling permanent on your face.

“You’ll catch a cold, get back inside!” He says, looking up at the sky and then back at you.

“No! Come join me! It’s amazing! This is exactly what I remember.” You say holding you hand out to Alastor. His smile looks more like a grimace as he takes you in looking like a wet dog. He looks back inside and waves his hand at something and you see towels appear and the record player is louder so you can hear it outside. He takes off his shoes and socks and places them neatly at the door but far enough away that when you come in, water or mud won’t get on them.

He walks out getting drenched almost immediately as you run up to him and grab his hand and pull him on the grass. You take both his hands and start trying to spin around in a circle with him, as you see his eyebrow raise. You stop and look at him, a little disappointed when he doesn’t spin with you and you start to let go of his hand, until his hand tightens and pulls you to him.

“We can dance in the rain, but we will be actually be dancing.” He says as he proceeds to guide you through a dance that was popular when Alastor was alive, morphing into an odd mash up of a swing dance and you dancing like you were at a rave. You both settled down and were now just slow dancing as the song had turned a bit slower. You watched as Alastor’s eyes were closed as his face angled up to the sky. You made a spit second decision, and rested your head on his chest, really it was like the start of his abdomen but it was as tall as you could reach. You didn’t see his head snap down to you and watch as you seemingly relaxed in his arms, drunk off the warmth he gave and the cool from the rain still coming down. His hand moved up, and grabbed your chin, encouraging you to look at him. As you did, you saw his eyes widen and his cheeks turn bright red.

“What’s wrong?” You ask quietly.

“I’ve never… done anything like this before.” He says quietly, and it breaks the fogginess you felt before.

“You don’t have to be scared. It’s just me.” You say, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.

“Just you? Darling, just you is enough to have me go to war.” Alastor murmurs and then his eyes widen again, shocked. You realize that he is just blurting things out and there is no filter. You smile.

“Well, I’m honored that the Radio Demon would want to be in my corner.” You say as your hand reaches up to touch his cheek, stopping just a few centimeters away, allowing him to close the gap if he wanted to. He leans into your touch shaking his head.

“Not the Radio Demon, dear. Just Alastor.” He says, looking at you with a vulnerability you had never seen before. Your eyes widen and you smile.

“Even better.”

Drank Radiorose 🍷🍾

Here’s translation!!🔽

📻 *He buried his head in her shoulder*

🌹Oh, you drank too much right? Alastor?

Dabi!

I want more “manic pixie dream scientist” Viktor in arcane fanfiction. This absolutely weirdo shows up in Jayce’s crumbling life all “do crimes, do drugs, DO SCIENCE” and Jayce just melts and decides not to kill himself for this little unhinged rat man

Birthdays G.W. x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of blood, George losing his ear, it's super sad

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: George Weasley x GN!Reader

Summary: After Fred's death, George never wanted to celebrate his birthday. This year he's turning 25 and despite his request, you want to do something special so you track down all the pictures you took from your Hogwarts years

A/N: I know it's been a little bit since I wrote anything and I just want to say I really appreciate all the love and support from everyone

Masterlist Taglist

Birthdays were supposed to be a fun and special day. They were supposed to be a day all about you and spending the day how you wanted. Usually it was spent with friends and family who loved you as they celebrated you getting older. There was typically cake and presents and singing that stupid song. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, birthdays have taken a sadder turn for George Weasley.

April 1st used to be the best day of the year in George’s eyes. Not only was it a day dedicated to jokes and pranks, but it was also the day he and his best friend got to celebrate another year of growing up but never maturing. In their younger years, they spent their birthday doing what they loved, causing mischief. One year they spent the whole day squawking like a bird at every hour; it was one of the more harmless years. On their first birthday after owning the joke shop, everything was a disaster. Well, it was for any poor soul that entered the shop with their guard down. Patrons left with bubblegum pink hair, duck bills for noses, temporarily in love with obscure objects, and even some believed they were invisible when they were in fact very visible.

George’s first birthday after Fred died was one of the worst days of his life, second to only the day he lost his brother. The family walked on eggshells and made the mistake of trying to celebrate. When his mother brought out the cake after dinner, he stormed out of the room before she could even set the homemade dessert on the table. You followed him all the way up to the roof, the place he always went to be alone or away from everyone but you. He sat there crying and you held him, rubbing his back but saying nothing; there was nothing you could say to ease his pain.

“I never want to celebrate my birthday ever again Y/N. I don’t want any cakes or presents or stupid songs. I don’t want anyone to even mention it.” He choked out as he sobbed into his hands.

“Your mom was just trying to do something nice. I don’t think she knew it would hurt this much.” 

“I know but I don’t want anything. Promise me the end of the birthdays starts here.”

You didn’t want to promise but you could see how much he needed this. “I promise.” 

You had been dating George since your Hogwarts years and you saw the pain everyone went through in the past year. You also saw how differently everyone reacted to the grief. Molly was liable to burst into tears every few minutes while Arthur threw himself into his tinkering with muggle items. Bill and Charlie spent a lot more time at home, doing things for their parents just to try and give them a break. Ron started helping George at the joke shop and he threw himself into the work there; he was a lot like his father much to his horror. Ginny spent a lot of time with George. She wasn’t supposed to have favorite brothers but Fred and George easily were her favorites. As for Percy, he still blamed himself for the death of his brother and spent most of his time hating himself. George didn’t know what to do. Everything he ever did, Fred was right there with him and he didn’t know how to function without his other half.

George no longer lived above the joke shop and instead he lived in a small apartment with you. The mirrors were covered with paper and all reflective surfaces were hidden as best as you could. He couldn’t stand to see himself because all he could see was Fred.

---

Since then, George had gotten his way and he hadn’t had a birthday celebration for the past few years. The only time it was even mentioned was when someone asked how old he was. Other than that, no one spoke about April 1st. This year George was turning 25 and after discussing with Molly many times, you decided not to ignore his birthday this time.

You were terrified that he would be upset that you went against his wishes but 25 was quite a big deal. He was officially going to be in his mid 20s and that deserved a celebration. George deserved a day where the people that loved him showed him how much he meant to them. Ginny, who had also been in on your plans, suggested for this first year of breaking the no birthday promise it was just you who celebrated. If the whole family suddenly ignored George’s wishes, he would probably feel betrayed. Not to mention out of everyone, he was more likely to be alright with his partner doing something special for him.

You spent all of February trying to think of something small enough to make sure he wouldn’t be upset but something big and special enough to warrant breaking this promise. Unlike the first few birthdays you celebrated with him as a couple, candy wouldn’t cut it this time. Soon February passed and before you knew it, it was the middle of March and you only had a couple weeks to go. You had to think of something fast

The answer came to you late at night one day in March. While George had been working late at the shop, you spent a lot of time stress cleaning the apartment and going through boxes. Wrapped up in old sweaters that didn’t fit anymore was your camera. It had been a gift to your parents your first year of Hogwarts and while you were no professional photographer, you spent all of your years in school taking pictures.

Ginny once mentioned to you a gift Hagrid had given Harry his first year. Hagrid spent months contacting anyone that knew James and Lily to try and get photos to make a photo album for Harry. Ginny said he still had it and has been adding to it; he added pictures of the people that meant a lot to him and especially pictures of things he wished his parents had been around to see. Almost all of the pictures you had taken since you were 11 included Fred and George. That was what you would give George.

When George came home that night, it was horrible trying not to tell him but you knew if he knew, he would tell you not to bother. Despite your efforts, he knew right away something was up. As he climbed into bed he took one look at your face and frowned. “What are you so worried about?” Curse him for being so observant.

“Nothing. I just hope you're not overworking yourself.” Before he could question you further, you kissed his cheek and rolled over, shutting off the light.

---

That morning as soon as he left for work, you began searching through more and more boxes of your things. Some pictures were hung up when you lived above the store but since moving, George didn’t want many pictures hung up at all. Tucked away in the closet was a small box with ‘pictures’ written on the side. “Bingo.”

As soon as you opened the box you had tears in your eyes. Right on top was a picture you had taken of the boys the day they bought the building. It was pretty worn down and needed quite a bit of work but Fred and George stood in front of the door, arms thrown around each other with wide smiles. As the picture moved, Fred and George turned to look over their shoulder at the building and gave each other a high five.

The next photo was much older and if you had to guess, Fred and George were only 12 or 13 in this picture. They were on the Quidditch Pitch, soaking wet and covered in mud but they couldn’t be happier. The boys had just tried out for the beater positions on the Gryffindor team and despite slipping and falling many times, they made the team. In the picture after only a second of smiling, Fred hip checked George and sent him flying into a mud puddle, landing right on his butt. Fred laughed until George kicked him on the back of the knee and made him fall face first into the mud next to him. The picture didn’t catch it but you remember after Fred got to his knees, the twins started wrestling and it took three people to separate them. Neither was mad at the other but more so they couldn’t stand to be outdone by their twin.

Many pictures were similar to those. One was taken of the twins while in detention with you. How you snuck the camera into the dungeons you couldn’t remember but the picture of Fred pretending to be Snape while George laughed and the real Snape rounded the corner was priceless. Another was taken when poor Ron had first started Hogwarts. You told the first year you simply wanted a photo of him and George to send home to his mother when in reality, Fred was behind him holding a fake spider. The picture captured the terror on Ron’s face as the toy came into his field of view while Fred and George rolled on the floor laughing.

Perhaps one of your favorites was taken during the Yule Ball. Katie Bell managed to take a picture of you and George slow dancing while Fred and Lee Jordan tried to do the worm in the background. Neither of them were very good and Fred wormed his way under Malfoy’s legs and sent the blonde crashing to the floor.

You had even a few pictures of the whole family. At Bill and Fleur’s wedding before the Death Eaters came, you gathered the whole Weasley clan and shoved everyone together to take a picture. Harry, disguised as a random Weasley cousin, and Hermione were included. The picture captured George coaxing you into frame with him as Remus took the camera from you. You squeezed in between Fred and George as your boys wrapped their arms around you.

There were many others, some far more normal than others but most of them George had never seen. After taking them, the pictures made their way into your trunk and never came out until after you had gone home. Besides, George always claimed he would never need to see them as he and Fred would continue to make more memories as they aged.

The last picture in the box was of them was the night George lost his ear. Fred had never been the serious type but seeing his twin brother lying on the couch drenched in his own blood changed something. All of you, but mostly Fred, realized no one was invincible. Fred pulled you aside and asked you to take a picture of them as soon as George was able to sit up and didn’t look too beat up. It was a moment you would never forget.

“I just need a picture of us Y/N. Seeing George there on the couch like that… I need something of us. This is a war and there’s no guarantee that both of us will make it. If that happens and he dies,” Fred rubbed his eyes with his sleeve and took a deep breath, “I need some reminder of him and I together in case.”

You grabbed his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Of course Freddie.”

An hour later it was just the three of you awake and George was feeling well enough to sit up and drink some water. Fred sat next to him on the couch and glanced over at you. “George, I want to take a picture.”

“Now? I’m still a little crusty and my bandage needs to be changed.” George sat the glass of water on the ground and carefully turned his head to look at his twin. “Maybe we can wait until tomorrow so I can clean up a bit?”

Fred shook his head and beckoned you over. “No way. I don’t want to wait for this one. Please?”

With a confused glance at you, George shrugged and wrapped his arm around Fred’s shoulders. “Make sure you get my good side.” He said with a small laugh as he turned to show off his one remaining ear.

The boys smiled for the photo but Fred looked like he was holding back tears. You took a second one and held back your own tears as Fred pulled George in for a hug. “Love ya Georgie.”

“Love you too Freddie.”

Over the next couple of weeks you spent any time George was in the shop working on his present. You spent countless hours arranging the pictures into the photo album and adding little notes next to each one. You tried your best to remember the year it was taken so the book was in some sort of order.

Along with the photos, you went through your old notebooks and various other scraps of paper that you had saved. On so many of them the twins had written notes in the margins. On one note page, the boys were having a written conversation about their plans for a store. They had no reason to write it on your paper except for the fact that they felt like it. While in school, it used to bother you when they would mess around and write notes or doodle on your papers but now, you were beyond grateful for these dumb little messages.

You took the notebook page and added it to the book next to the picture of the boys in front of their shop. On the next you stuck in the page with the rather horrible self portrait Fred had drawn.

There were more than a few times you had to catch your falling tears so they wouldn’t ruin the pictures but finally after weeks, it was done.

---

On the morning of his birthday, George laid in bed well past the normal time he usually woke up. Ron had been the only one working at the store on George’s birthday for the past few years. At first George refused but as more and more people talked about April Fool’s Day, he relented and let Ron take over. When George finally emerged from the bedroom, he went straight to the couch and sat next to you. He didn’t say anything for a while until he finally turned to look at you. “What’s for breakfast?”

“I can make some eggs.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips before you went to the kitchen, preparing to make his breakfast.

On the coffee table you left the photo album which you had wrapped and added a small tag with his name on it. “Y/N? What is this?” He stared at the box as if he was expecting it to come alive and bite him.

“It’s just a little something for you. Why don’t you open it?”

George sighed and grabbed the box, moving into the kitchen with you. “I thought I said I didn’t want birthdays anymore. What happened to that promise?” At first you thought maybe he was hurt by your action but he just looked drained.

You set the uncracked eggs on the counter and put your hand over his. “I know you did but you’re 25 and I think you’ll like this one.” When he didn’t move to open the gift, you crossed your arms over your chest. “George, humor me just this time. If you hate it and still want nothing to do with birthdays then this will be the last mention of it, I swear.”

Satisfied with your terms, George carefully tore off the paper and opened the box. “You broke my promise to get me a book?” The cover of the album was just a simple brown leather with nothing to indicate what was on the inside.

“Open the book.”

Following your instructions, George flipped open to the first page and froze. He stared at the picture while 11-year-old Fred and George smiled up at him. George didn’t move for a long time and just when you were starting to get worried, he flipped to the next page. He watched that one for a while too before he moved on to the next. He did this until he got to the last picture. He watched as Fred in the picture hugged him and he read the words written below the picture as Fred mouthed them. ‘Love ya Georgie.’

Without a word George moved next to you and wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, burying his head in your shoulder. George held you tight as sobs tore through him. “I miss him so much. I wish he was here.”

“I do too.” You rubbed his back as he continued to cry. Once his sobs finally turned into sniffles, you slowly moved his head off of your shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. “George, why don’t you want to celebrate your birthdays?”

He sighed and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes, just like Fred always did. “It feels wrong to do anything without him, especially this.” George wasn’t sure how to articulate what he was feeling for years until this moment. “We used to do everything together and I don’t know how to do anything without him.”

“Oh George.” You pulled him in for another hug, running your fingers through his hair. “Fred wouldn’t want this. He would want you to be happy and love your life and cause enough mischief for the both of you. He would want you to celebrate your birthday, not pretend it doesn’t happen.”

“I know but why does it all feel so wrong?”

“Because he’s not where you can see him. He’s here and he’s with you every day in everything you do but you can’t see him. You can’t hear his laugh and it’s horrible but George, he is here. I see him in your smile and I hear him in your jokes and not just because you’re identical. I know it’s hard but I promise you, he would want you to be happy. It’s ok to try the things you did together without him.” This time George pulled his own head away so he could look at you as you brushed the hair out of his eyes and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll try.” That was all you could ever ask of him. “Thank you for the book and for caring enough to break your promise. I love you.”

“I love you too George.” He kissed you softly and as you pulled away, you smiled. “Is it too early to invite the whole family over to celebrate?”

George smiled and nodded. “A bit. Let’s just get through this year and then we can talk about bringing everyone else.”

It would be a few years until George was ready to celebrate his birthday with everyone else again but when his mom brought out the cake and everyone sang that stupid song, he could have sworn Fred was right there with him.

Taglist

@100gaysnails @george-weasleys-girl @weasleybuns @s1aaaaayyyyyyyt @asuperconfusedgirl @jsjcue

Omg haha

So I was listening to pandora on my computer with headphones and There’s Nothinh Holding Me Back by Shawn Mendes comes on. So my mom comes in and unplugs my headphones at the part of the song that says “just picture everybody naked” and she just looks at me...

No context

????? march ?????? again ??????