Til Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Reader)

Chapter 8: Massacre Memories

⚠️ANOTHER TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER⚠️
~~~~~Alastor~~~~~
Y/N stays stuck by my side ever since she found out I'm the New Orleans serial killer, and I could never be happier, strangely. Her company while cleaning felt comfortable, relaxing, even. She hums and sways to the tune playing while she works, and it occurs to me that the song playing is the one I sang to her on that fateful day. This makes me smile. I finish cleaning as fast as I can and slide towards her, holding out my hand.
"Do dance with me, dear." I close my eyes while asking this, letting my body lean forward slightly. Her hand touches mine and I pull her close to me, pulling her along with the beat. My eyes finally open to see her blushing, looking down intently. She catches me staring, and looks towards me apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I've never danced before." She admits to me, looking back down at her feet. A chuckle reverberates through my throat and I pull her closer to me, my lips centimeters inches from her forehead.
"Just sway to the beat then, dear. I can teach you to properly dance later, I just want to bask in your touch for now, if that's all right with you, of course." I feel her head nod and press against my lips. Her hands move away from mine, up my shoulders, to wrap around my neck. I feel the hair on my neck stand up.
Her touch is addicting.
I move my hands to her hips, making heat rise up to my cheeks. I have never been this intimate with a woman, and to be honest, I'm quite inexperienced in this field. I feel her suck in a breath.
"Do tell me if this is making you uncomfortable, Y/N." I mumble against her soft skin. Her head shakes, before she presses closer to me.
"You could never make me uncomfortable, Alastor." She takes a deep breath. "Can I admit something to you?" I feel her hesitancy, but I attempt to sooth her, taking my hands and moving them to the middle of her back, playing with her hair.
"Of course you can. You can tell me anything." She takes another deep breath, making my brows knit together.
"My mother died when I was 7. I don't remember how it happened, but my sister told me I was playing near the creek by our house. There was a snake. I did not see it, but my mom did. She picked me up right as it struck, and it hit her. She was gone within a week because we never had the money to go to the doctor. Everyone blamed me for her death. Especially my... father. He was always so kind and caring towards my sister, because she looked like our mother, but... he would beat me everyday... He told me every day I was the reason my mother wasn't there, and that I deserved every single hit. One day, I finally got tired of it. When I was 16, I caught a cotton mouth and drained as much venom from it as I could over the span of a couple weeks. It's a miracle I was never bit, really, but I had worn thick clothing every time. He was an extremely heavy drinker, and I had poured the venom into his moonshine. From the sheer amount he ingested, he was dead within the night. The coroner concluded he died of an alcohol overdose, and they burned his body before the venom started to damage his body. I think about that every single day. The pure joy I felt watching him struggle to breathe. The way his body writhed. The way his mouth foamed. The tinge of blue and sheer panic in his eyes, pleading for help. I laughed in his face. We are more similar than you think, Alastor." By this time, we have stop swaying, the music filling the dense silence, and my hands grip her protectively. Her wet cheeks pressing against my neck, a single droplet running down my shirt. I let her cry into my shirt. I try to console her by rubbing circles into her shoulder blade. What happened to her was terrible, but what she did to her father was absolutely magnificent. She used the same venom that killed her mother. She watched him suffer with elation in her eyes. I would love to see that crazed look on her beautiful features. Perhaps she is an angel. An angel of death and destruction. Her hands are also bloodied; not as bloodied as my own, of course.
"My dear, what your father did to you was awful, but I would do much worse than you did. I can promise you that. You did what you had to do to survive." And it was genius, but he couldn't tell her that. By this time, her crying had ceased.
"Alastor, do you think I could stay here tonight? I don't want to be alone..." Her voice shook with anxiety. My eyes widen at her, but I pull her impossibly closer.
"Of course you can, my dear, but first, you need to call your sister. I don't need people coming out here looking for you." She nods her head, politely asking where the phone is. I lead her to it and leave her alone while she talks to her sister. My feet head towards the front door to retrieve the small basket she threw down on the porch, which had been forgotten in all this insanity. The cool air hits my face when I open the door, and my eyes cut downwards to the woven basket. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I take a peek. Small, crushed chocolate covered strawberries wrapped in cooking paper is the first thing I see. Then, my eyes catch the small wrapped package. My eyes widen. She had planned something. I ruined it. A small frown tugs at my lips as I take the small package in my hands. I don't hear Y/N calling my name, but a hand on my shoulder makes my eyes snap up.
"Alastor..." She starts, but I cut her off.
"You had something planned, didn't you? I ruined it." She tilts her head to the side, before hugging me from behind, taking my hands into her own.
"It's not ruined, in fact, I feel as though we finally opened up our deepest chapters of our book. What makes us, us. We can still eat the strawberries and I can still go along with my plan. My sister answered and told me to have fun, and be safe. Little does she know, I'm in the safest hands of them all." My frown immediately disappears at her words.
"The strawberries are crushed, but I'm sure they're still edible. I'm glad you opened up that dark chapter of your book my dear." She hugs me tightly, our body head growing, creating a slight bubble of warmth to shield us from the cool night. I turn to face her, before scooping her up.
"I've got some clothes you can wear, if you want to get out of that dress?" I suggest, and she nods with a large grin.
"Yes, do you think I could also take a shower? I smell like the woods." She sniffs her hair, which causes me to chuckle. I take her upstairs to my room. I grab a pair of lounge pants and shirt from my closet, handing them to her, along with a towel.
"Here you go, my dear. The washroom is just through that door. Come find me in the kitchen when you're done. Oh, and Y/N, I love you. " I press a kiss against her lips, dry and chapped from her crying.
"I love you too, Alastor." My smile grows as I head down the stairs, a plan in mind.

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What does Alastor have planned? I don't even know the answer to that!
Until next time my deers~
(sorry i was just fixing this note)
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