𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

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Two months blew by within what felt like days. Alastor was sat in his broadcasting room with a small frown. He hadn't killed Jeremy yet, he just couldn't without you getting suspicious of him, what with him hurting you and then Alastor saying he would handle the situation. If Rogers was suddenly the next victim, it would seem too coincidental; so three others had been killed beforehand, and now Alastor was simply planning on how to get rid of that fat tub of lard.

Slowly, he reached his hand out and flicked the "on-air" switch, smiling as he greeted the audience. "Good evening, New Orleans! What a lovely day of snow we had! And right before the festival too!" he let out a chuckle, twirling a pen betwixt his fingers. The soft sound of his flytraps munching on their supper could be heard as you fed them, a deep breath being inhaled through his mouth. He still hadn't told you that he knew what you were — and you haven't told him either, most likely thinking that he still didn't know and wouldn't approve. He would never blame you for wanting to keep that a secret.

After Jeremy, Damien was next on his blacklist. That man was keeping you from eating, you were more than exhausted half the time Alastor managed to set a time to see you, and you were being abused by the people he "rented" you to. Possibly even by Damien himself. But he was making a plan to figure out exactly where Damien's weak points were. He was planning to get himself a night with one of that man's ladies, tie her up, threaten her, get the information, and kill her. He would remain anonymous when making the arrangements well in advanced.

"This weekend will be quite a time to remember! Horses and parades, fires and lights, hot chocolates and holiday cakes," he laughed, feeling your warm gaze on his back before it returned to the hungry flytraps. "Be sure to ask your friends, family, partners to head out with you! Not just for fun but you may want to be sure you're safe. Large crowds of people may be exactly what that cut throat is looking for." Alastor's tone dropped to something a little more sinister, but lifted just as quick as it came, his smile bright once more, "Anywho! That's all I have for you folks! Have fun out there, tomorrow, and stay tuned!"

A quick and easy broadcast — there wasn't much to say. He had already spoken of his most recent murder earlier that day so all that was left was some small news. Yes, normally he told scary stories on his evening broadcasts, but tonight he wanted to take care of you... as odd as that sounded. He flicked the switch off and removed his headset, turning his chair so he could face you. "How's it going?" he cooed and stood up, heading for your side while you gently tickled Tsetse's petals. "Eh, I'm a little tired. I'm glad I got the day off tomorrow," you let out a silent chuckle, feeling Alastor wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you into a friendly side hug. "You sure he won't drag you back to work?"

"I'm sure," you nodded, savoring the warmth of Alastor's body against yours with a small smile. You were growing fond of him. You didn't want to admit it, but you had to. He was such a gentleman, and you simply couldn't help the mild feelings of adoration for him that began to manifest in your mind. "How about you go take a shower and get ready for the night? We have a big day of fun planned tomorrow," he chuckled and gave you another gentle squeeze before releasing you.

"Alright, Al." You gave him a smile as you stood, straightening your dress a little. "The guest room?" you asked. He turned to you and shrugged, also lifting to his feet, "If you want." Your brow raised in confusion, "Where else would I sleep?" Alastor shot you a grin. "Well there's the living room, the library..." He paused, eyelids lowering, "My bedroom." Alastor gave you a playful wink and stuck his tongue out, a warmth rising in your cheeks. "Gross, don't say that!" You shoved him away from you lightly, though there was still a weak smile on your face.

"You know you love it," he teased and pulled you into a tight side hug again and tousled your hair. You yelped and tried to wriggle free, his hands tangling your neatly brushed locks while you struggled. "Quit it, Al!" you laughed, finally managing to slip out of his hold. With a small laugh, he fixed his bowtie and nodded, "Well then the guest room it is, if you're really that revolted by the thought of sleeping with your friend."

• 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲'𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 • Alastor x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now