Alastor x Reader Oneshots

A Tourtured Artist

Art Credit: This art was actually drawn by me! It's not the best but I tried my best. I've been a bit stressed out as of late and drawing, singing, and writing all helps me to reach a good state of mind. Enjoy the chapter!

WARNING: Hints of depression and suicidal thoughts, deal with a demon.

It was the familiar smell of paint and the feel of a blank canvas was enough to melt away all the pain and stress of a normal day. It was common to find this artist stained with opaque colors, mostly on her hands and arms. There were t-shirts and bottoms she owned that she would never wear out since it was permanently stained with art products.

Although she was told she should sell her works, artist (Y/N) had no intention of ever selling her art.

Especially her most recent ones.

For the past few months or so, the talented artist would have the same exact dream every night. She dreamt of a man wearing all red, tall and handsome. It was clear he wasn't exactly human based on the color of his almost grayish skin, the sharp teeth, and black antlers that protruded out of the top of his head.

Although his appearance would scare any normal person, she found she was never scared when seeing him and had very wonderful conversations with him. When she would wake however, he would be gone, and her boring day to day life would continue once again.

Being a sad, old soul in a modern world, (Y/N) always felt out of place with others. She felt like she belonged in a different place.

A different time.

Her taste in music was much different from others. While most like pop or rap, she enjoyed music from the 1920s to listen to while she painted or sketched. She adored vintage stores and could waste hours just browsing all the items from the past. Most importantly, she never could really connect to the social norms that people had today.

The man in her dreams, Alastor his name was.

He seemed like the perfect match for her in regards to how she thought and what she liked.

"Alastor, I have a question for you." she spoke to him once in a dream. He turned to her with a gentle smile, holding his staff in one hand with his other hand behind his back.

"Do you ever feel like you're an old soul?" (Y/N) asked, gazing up to him with sparkling (e/c) eyes. He nodded, letting out a laugh.
"Dear, I'm more of an old soul than you'll ever realize."

The talks became more clear and frequent, until (Y/N) could actually remember the conversations they carried from her dreams.

One morning (Y/N) was working feverently on her latest painting. This was a portrait of Alastor from memory. She wanted to capture his presence on paper before her mind could ever forget his alluring face and smile. As the painting started to get really good, a voice shook her out of focus.

"Wow darling, you made me look quite handsome."

(Y/N) yelped, nearly ruining the whole painting with one large stroke of her wet brush in hand. She quickly turned to see her dream man.
"A-Alastor?? But you—"

"Aren't real? A figment of your imagination? I'm afraid to say dear that I am very real." his smile was wide, and for some reason, (Y/N) was scared looking at him. She stood from her chair, shaking violently in her shoes as if she was in the cold. Her stool fell on its side as she stood, and Alastor's smile only fell a fraction.

"(Y/N), my dear, I mean you no harm. I just wanted to see the little lady who brings me much happiness." he tried to reassure, hoping to ease her fear. He was troubled that his real appearance to her caused this sort of reaction, but he thought it was better than her running away screaming or dropping dead just by the look of him.

To his relief she seemed to stop shaking as much as she took some steps forward. With her movements cautious, she reached forward to touch his cold cheek. Alastor immediately slid his eyes closed, leaning into her very warm and soft hand. For the many months he had found his way into this artist's dreams, he'd forever yearned to feel her warmth. Even standing next to her he could feel her radiate.

"You are real..." she murmured softly, and her mood seemed to turn upwards. She briefly flashed her memory to the conversations they had which lasted for hours, the times they laughed with one another. It was then when she realized she may even...no, it can't be.....

"(Y/N)...I don't come here as a happy accident. I have to tell you the truth."

She watched him curiously.

"I'm a demon. My goal in the beginning was to make a deal with you to take your soul, but things on my part have...changed." he admitted almost shamefully, looking toward the ground. Even with this news, she couldn't feel angry at him for he had given her the most happiness in her dreams than she ever got from anyone else in her 23 years of life.

"I'm listening." she let him continue.

"I request that you paint a portrait. A portrait of you and I. If you agree, once you're finished, you have to travel to hell with me." he stood a little straighter, watching her carefully.
"As a demon I still have to make deals to meet a quota, and if you refuse I have no choice but to take your soul...forcefully." his smile was much softer now, and his eyes looked sad.
"(Y/N) I don't want to do that to you. Please. If you agree to this you can stay with me in my home. You'll have everything you can ever desire." he took a step forward, reaching out to grasp her hand, giving it a squeeze.

"I don't offer this choice to everyone. You're special." his thumb rubbed the top of her hand affectionately. She swallowed hard as she thought for a moment. In any case, what did she have to lose? She was a lonely artist, depressed to the point of near suicide. She felt out of place always. Besides...

What family would miss her anyway?

(Y/N) nodded, looking up to lock eyes with him.
"If this is a deal, I get to have something in return, correct?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Yes my dear. Anything you want. Money, sex, power. Anything." he replied, licking his lips lightly as he said this. The thought of sex and (Y/N) made his darkened heart race.

In the beginning, when Alastor first became almost a parasite in (Y/N's) dreams, his intentions were to take her soul and just continue on the next victim. But as he continued appearing in her dreams, he found a sad, talented, and beautiful young lady with a classic soul that was roaring with passion. What changed for Alastor was that he realized he was falling in love with her. Something he thought he could never experience based on his past and his status.

"I want you Alastor. I want you to love me." she admitted, her tiny hands holding tight to the sleeves of his red suit. Not only was she sad, she also extremely lonely. Having Alastor around to shower her with love and affection were things she daydreamed about and imagined as she went along in her life. She looked forward to seeing him in dreams and always felt a certain way around him. He grinned as soon as she spoke, leaning down to kiss her lips.
"You don't have to request it my dear. I already do."

(Y/N) as she promised painted the portrait, and she left with Alastor to remain forever in hell with him. The future owners of the house (Y/N) used to live in say that they found the portrait along with most of her belongings. Most peculiar however, is that they say they can hear a couple laughing and the sound of jazz music echoing through the halls from time to time. Some rooms smell of fresh paint and paper, and the painting of Alastor and (Y/N) still hangs on the wall where her studio used to be.

(Y/N), who was a tortured artist found her peace and love in a place where that doesn't seem to exist.

But she and Al manage. <3