Alastor/Reader Oneshots (Discontinued)

Request 1 - Switching Places

Requested by the lovely @EllaAspenFrost who's been here in support for quite some time!

Summary: "After finding a strange charm on a necklace, Alastor attempts to give it to the reader where upon they end up swapping bodies. Then, Alastor convinces the reader to keep up the facade of smiling maniacally and being creepy so as not to alert anyone else to their problem while he searches through old spell books for an incantation to reverse it. All the while, they both struggle with having to deal with each other's different magic/abilities."

...

(Alastors POV)

...
It was a simple late night stroll, one of quiet beauty for being in Hell. A slight breeze ruffled Alastors ears, while he shivered in the red light of the pentagram in the sky.

"All this for a decent meal" he muttered, smoothing out his coat and leaning impatiently against a withered away tree. Deer hunting, and eating was no easy feat, you see. One had to be impeccably patient, agile, and nearly a deer themself!

Good thing I'm all of the above.

Aha—a movement! A flicker of white, about three yards away. Setting his cane aside, he promptly stalked towards to flash that had just disappeared from sight.

Once it was within eyesight, he pounced with the precision of a wild animal, out to kill.

Upon further inspection, it wasn't the tip of a deer tail hiding beneath the thicket at all...it was a bracelet?
White and simple, the round, smooth stone was held nicely in a twisted gold wire, one that looked particularly intricate—this was certainly something worth finding.

Perhaps he should take it back to the hotel, to his room for safe keeping.

Or, it's (Y/N)'s Death-Day Anniversary? You could gift it to her, you do need a gift, you know.

I know. But what would the others think? I have my Radio Demon front to hold up, to hand out little moon-stone bracelets as a present? Might as well paint myself pink, and run around Hell with feathers for a skirt.

Nobody will know, it could be a secret.

Alastor pondered the thought with his inner voices, each offering their own twisted input. Settling on a decision, he decided it would indeed make a fine gift for (Y/N).

...

Alastor watched with an odd fascination as (Y/N) blew out the blood-red candles on her velvet cake. Why was death-day the Hell equivalent to a Birth-day on the mortal plain? One could never know why they had to celebrate occasion upon occasion with people you loved.

But, he had to admit, seeing (Y/N) so gleeful and surrounded by their cowork—friends...Made him pathetically happy, each time. It was like a sick drug or something.

It's pathetic, is what it is.

Shush.

He cleared his mind and watched as she ripped opened Charlie's present with no restraint what-so-ever. Positively dreadful, his mind mused in a fond way.

She turned to him unexpectedly, a hopeful look in her eyes while smiling like she wasn't in the presence of the almighty Radio Demon.

"Did you get me anything, Al?"

"Al?" He echoed disdainfully.

"Oh don't pretend like you don't love it," She cheekily grinned, hands on her hips. "Answer the question Deer Bitch."

He chose to let the nickname slide, grinning wider now. The girl certainly had guts, he'd give her that. While Vaggie and Angel giggled like incessant school-gays in the corner, Alastor narrowed his eyes, looking down his nose at the small demon.

"It'll present itself to you when I say so." He pointedly sniffed, smoothing out his coat.

"Was that a pun?" She poked at him, grinning wildly. He only returned her puzzling statement with a confused look.
"Present? Like the gift? Because it's a gift." She trailed on, looking away while he inwardly cringed.

"I'll stop."

"Good idea" He deadpanned, rolling his eyes coldly—although he couldn't deny the annoying flutters of admiration that bubbles within.

What is this? A wattpad grade twilight rip-off?

How do I even know what both of those things are.

He stopped arguing with himself, and instead turned to walk out of the dining room, beckoning a gloved finger to (Y/N) who naturally followed him.

Once they arrived in his room, he closed the door and pulled out a simple red-velvet wrapped box, presenting it to her. She took it and carefully peeled off the fabric, chuckling.
"One could say you're proposing to me, Bambii."

Alastor grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose "one could say." He muttered, urging her to just open the box already.

"Oh" she murmured, picking out the bracelet delicately. "It's...beautiful." She breathed, slipping it on her wrist carefully. Barking a laugh, Alastors smile didn't let up.

"Nice?"
She widened her eyes, chuckling nervously "Sorry, I don't usually get nice things." Alastor paused, worrying over that for a split second. Who didn't get nice things?

"Well, it's yours and yours only." He settled, taking off his coat and placing it on his dresser. (Y/N) smiled and quickly gave him a hug, squeezing him tightly. Alastor stiffened, freezing up subconsciously.
He would've shoved her away, but suddenly a tingling sensation filled his stomach, buzzing along to his finger tips and possessing him.

"Wha—" he started, cut off by a large flash of white light, and a dizzying .feeling taking over him. Shutting his eyes, Alastor stumbles to the ground with (Y/N), and he sloppily opened his eyes to find him staring back at...himself?

What the...?

"What the fuck!" The look-alike yelled, in a voice creepily like his own. Alastor immediately went on the defensive, jumping up and shoving the mimicker away and into a wall.

"What did you do with (Y/N), you sniveling ingrate!!" He growled, glaring at the figure while still planted on the floor. "Why do you look like me?!" He yelled at the copy-cat.

"You're the one that looks like me!" It fumed, nearly falling over. "And (Y/N) is me?! What do you mean I did something to her?"

Alastor went to stand up and confront them; it was obvious they were deranged, and needed throat slicing. The only problem, he had seemed to regress in height by about two feet—what?

Turning to look in the mirror of his dresser, he gasped, ignoring the other Alastors protests and complaints.

Staring back in the mirror, was (Y/N).

It was then he realized that his voice sounded completely different, the pitch and tone having changed completely. He studied the horrified figure before him. Where was his terrifying stance? His ears? Antlers? Smile? His monocle!

Turning to the panicking other-Alastor across the room, he slowly looked up at them. It must've been (Y/N). But how? How could they have switched their bodies?

It dawned upon him—the stone that lay coolly upon his wrist, settled and smooth. He should've known.

It's the fucking bracelet.

"(Y/N), what the hell did we do?"

...

I will be continuing this in a second parter, because tbh this story has its own plot, that could become a story in itself. I'll get it resolved though, I'm good like that *smirks*
Nah, thanks to @EllaAspenFrost for this request, and it was really fun to write!