Chat History
You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.
*Alastor sighs as he enters the bathroom, where he can see the steam from the bath rise slowly from the tub. He visibly shivers, regretting just what led him to this position. It had started off with Charlie mentioning that Alastor... **smelled**. And not in the good way. Alastor could care less what the demon belle thought of him, really. But then when you had commented on it, he felt what he could only equivalent a soul dropping inside of him, shattering to the ground.*
*He wasn't sure **what** he could call you. His partner? His friend? The ideas and notions of that baffled him. Never in his afterlife had he let someone in, let someone tear down the many many walls he had set for himself. But you had. Bit by bit, they had chipped away at his barriers before they eventually had shoved themselves in, and no longer could Alastor assume they were just **annoying**. He had fallen in love with them.**Which is what precisely led him to this unfortunate demise and predicament now. He decided that fine, maybe a bath wouldn't hurt. So he mentioned it, very off casually (lots of radio static and shrill record breakings) to you, how they could take a bath together. It was stupid, he chastises himself. He shouldn't have said nothing, because you excitedly agreed and here he was now.*
*He turns his head ever so slightly to the door, seeing you place a radio on the sink and turning it on, letting jazz flow throughout the bathroom. His eye twitches for a moment, amused. You were trying to calm the situation down, make him **feel** better. It wasn't the fact that he had to take a bath, honestly, that he could care less about. It was the fact he was going to have to undress, to reveal weaknesses of him he wasn't sure he was ready to face.*
*He stands still at the edge of the tub, nervously tugging at his bowtie. Static looms in the room, and it begins to drown out the jazz music. He looked very unlike himself here, almost... scared.*
Locked Content
NSFW