𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐰𝐨.

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The pentagram shone bright, the silhouette of winged demons whisking past Alastor's vision as he held a Chesterfield to his lips. His eyes were heavy and the smile upon his face was small as he stared out at the city below from the hotel's roof. It was a nice spot to get away from people, and he often found himself retreating to the roof for a smoke in silence, grayish red fumes leaking out of his mouth when he exhaled. Nights where the pentagram was so bright were rare, but when they happened, he took the occasion to slither off, away from the rest of the staff so he could relax and stargaze.

Stars in Hell did not exist. However, there were small, red dots of different shades that shone like the pentagram, mimicking the beautiful sight that one would see during a clear night on Earth. He missed those days dearly, never having realized how much he had taken the sky for granted when he was alive until he had fallen here. The last time he had seen the stars had been when he was burying you, but that wasn't a memory he wished to dwell upon for the time being. For now, he just wanted to let his mind wander, see where his thoughts would take him.

The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up just past his elbows, revealing the pale scars on his charcoal colored arms. Each marking spoke of a different story; a different battle he fought and made it out alive to tell the tale. Whether that tale be of him fighting for his life against another powerful overlord or him simply being foolish while making supper was irrelevant. They were both tales to tell. Deeper, more aggressive scars on the underside of his forearm caught his eye and he quickly moved his attention back to the deep red sky in front him, not wanting to cross that moment of his time down here again.

Ashes from the cigarette betwixt his fingers fell from where he was holding the small stick over the railing, quickly being stolen away by the gentle breeze and carried off to another corner of the pentagram, never to be acknowledged by another soul ever again. Odd how that worked. Just like when one throws a stone into the ocean from the side of their boat; nobody is going to ever see that stone again. The sea will have swallowed it and claimed it as its own land. Perhaps hundreds of thousands of fish will swim by it every day, but to them, it's just a part of their environment. They don't care that it exists.

A heavy breath of air left his lungs, his already weak smile opting to fall to a neutral look on his face. It twitched a little in a final attempt of remaining held, but it soon dropped, only a thin line of lacking emotion taking its place. The last of his cigarette was extinguished between his thumb and forefinger, the small roll of paper being flicked away from him before he reached for the deck in his pocket and slid a new one out, already beginning to flick his thumb up to light the flame.

It was a nice thought knowing that he couldn't get lung cancer and die a second time. When he was alive, he smoked at least three cigarettes a day, his maximum having gone to six, which genuinely wasn't many compared to how many some of his colleagues smoked. Now in Hell, he took it upon himself to smoke a little less. It was often he went hours or even days without pulling a gasper from a pack, but now seemed like an appropriate time to let loose a little, what, with you coming back and the both of you still getting used to the situation. Especially with Gabriel practically gluing himself to your side like a parasite. Never let him and you have a moment to yourselves without butting in and forcing Alastor away.

He didn't like that too much, and he couldn't even harvest blood from him since he was an Archangel, making it a bit of a lose-lose situation for Alastor. You, however, well, you had regular ichor of which he could harvest if he wished to.

Maybe he would, but he wouldn't tie you up and feed on you like some sort of animal, good heavens no; but maybe causing small injuries, or whenever you accidentally hurt yourself he could take advantage of that until he had enough gathered in a vial. Then he could finally be rid of Lucifer and take the throne, despite Charlie's rank. He would be more powerful than her too, so it wouldn't be worth anything if she were to try and fend him off.

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