Why not both?

Nightmare

One more hit. One more hit. Wipe the blood off your forehead. One more hit. One more hit.

Alastor was breathing heavily by the time he finished, holding onto the tip of his knife with a tight fist. The feeling never went away. It felt so fucking great to take a life this way. Now time for the cleanup.

He grabbed one of the person's hands, dragging the lifeless, mutilated body into the corner of the room. Only once he was there did he process how... Fuzzy the hand felt. What? That's not right.

When Alastor kills, his vision goes out and he can't think logically. The second his eyes adjusted to the dark light and trailed down the arm he was holding, seeing the white fur and bright pink outfit, the tell tale spots and each of the six hands he could have grabbed, it was dropped.

No...

"Al, you're such a prick sometimes, you know that? Why can't you just let me do my fuckin' job?"

"You were hurt last time, I can't let that happen to you again..."

"Well maybe I don't fuckin' want your help!"

All he remembered after those words was anger. Unbridled anger. No, he'd done better, he'd learned to control his temper, this wasn't... He couldn't have.

"Fucking... Monster." The previously lifeless body let out its final words as Alastor ran upstairs. He never was able to make it to the top before startling awake in a sweat.

At least it was a different person this time. He didn't know if that made things better or worse.

Dream

Alastor didn't have dreams very often, so this case was a rare benefit.

"Ally... Come here..."

This one was always the same. His mother, standing at the edge of a white void. Holding out her hand.

"I forgive you... Come join me..."

Every time, he would run. And he would make it just in time to her hug as tightly as he once did so many years ago. But never in time to join her, and she disappeared. But not without telling him one last time...

"I love you, Ally... You'll always be my darling."

kfgybghfrvdkvdthfkurvdlkuu,fxh,rjv ilkf

Bath bomb - What is the best form of self care?

"Youre insufferable."

Why had Alastor agreed to coparenting this dog? Why couldn't he have just settled for the pig, or the child? Why couldn't he just say no?

The one saving grace, he thought, was that this dog was actually a puppy. It couldn't /really/ do that much damange, could it? It didn't have the sharp teeth, or the cold eyes, or the bloodthirst taught and trained over generations.

No, but at the moment, Alastor was watching it pee against his bedframe, and that was almost as bad.

"I should have asked whether you were trained..." With the leash still on, since Al never had the courage to take it off, the poor puppy was taken outside and promptly tied to a post in the garden. "Maybe you'll learn better if you're out here for a while."

It wasn't until the thing actually started whining and stretching out its leash trying to chase after him that Alastor started to regret that. He shouldn't, its a dog, its not like it has desires or complex emotions, much less it be deserving of pity.

The dog didn't go back inside that afternoon. But neither did Alastor, sitting on a nearby bench, just out of reach, keeping an eye on him. Five more minutes, he told himself. Then he'll leave it here. Five more minutes.

"You can't be serious. You're actually moving in?"

"Of course, dear! Did you expect me to run a hotel from a distance? My tower is much too far to stay there!"

"Well too bad, there's-"

"I'm well aware you have only one patron here, Im sure there's plenty of space!"

"...you better watch your back. I'm not falling for your stupid game."

*catches the love*