All Is Fair in Love and War REIMAGINED (Alastor X Reader)

From Spark to a Flame

(Quick disclaimer: not 100% sure if Alastor canonically still has his microphone staff after it was broken, but in this story we're gonna pretend it's all fixed up. Mmkay? Coooool 💕)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm fine, you thought to yourself. It's all good. Not gonna panic, not gonna freak out. I'm totally under control.

You sat staring in the mirror of the little vanity set behind the lounge stage. Anticipatory anxiety gnawing at you with its millions of sharp teeth.

Since the moment you woke up this morning you felt that rising fear, lingering paranoia, constantly on the cusp of having another panic attack. Like there was something just wrong enough to notice how you felt, but still remained enough feeling of control that you were able to steer it.

Mostly.

Funny, one would think being able to rationalize the situation would make it easier to deal with.

Instead it just added frustration.

Like having a front row seat to the shitshow and you're strapped to the chair.

I'm good. I'm fine. I'm... fucking falling apart, man...

"Sweet cheeks~!" Mimzy's voice beckoned from the lefthand side of the back wall. You put down your mascara and turned around.

"Hello, lovely." You greeted her pleasantly. Trying to put on a decent face in the presence of good company.

"Thank you for switching your time with Rosalia. You sure you don't mind?"

You shrugged and resumed your mascara application. Carefully adding another coat until you were satisfied with the appearance.

Truth be told you didn't mind at all switching with Rosalia, if tonight went well it meant you'd be headlining more often instead of opening. Since more people show up for headliners this meant a slight pay increase; and you were always ready for that. So you wanted to make sure you nailed it tonight.

Assuming your issues didn't interfere with your performance.

"Yeah, it's fine."

Curiosity brewed within the plump blonde as she cocked her head sideways and took a step over to you.

"You alright, sugar?"

You blinked and looked back at her in the mirror. Putting the mascara wand back in the tube before setting it down and turning your body to look at her head on.

"Just peachy, chika." You sighed. "Thank you for asking."

Her lips pursed together and her eyes cast a sympathetic glance. Not at all buying your statement but she didn't wanna pry. It was a little unusual to see you in a quiet mood but by no means unheard of. She figured you were just tired or dealing with your own issues.

"Okay," she clicked her tongue. "I don't believe ya but I'm here if you change your mind."

You scoffed and turned back around.

Can't argue with that.

"Alrighty," you said with a chuckle. "Thank you. Much appreciated."

She shrugged. "Don't mention it."

"Y/n, you about ready?" Lance, the saxophone player, asked as he poked his head through the thick curtain as Mimzy walked away. A stout, ferret looking demon with a missing tooth and one yellow eye; a well-mannered fellow and a fairly decent musician. Granted, that's pretty much all you knew about him.