Out of Darkness (Alastor x human!fem!reader)

Chapter Three: There's Peace in War Too

              Several days had passed since Alastor's return to the human world. Though his strength was slowly returning, he was still just a shadow of his former self. Each passing day among mortals gnawed at his patience, testing his limits. The past days were worse than Hell for him and he barely held back from killing any unfortunate human being that showed up in front of him. All he's been doing were trips from one place to another, sorting documents for an invented person that didn't in fact exist or had any real relevance to him. He also had to find a shitty minimum wage job; yet another stressful thing that made him almost rip a rando's head just because he stared "a bit too much" at him. It was truly a pain in the ass, but he had to hold back his violent urges, at least for now. He knew that once he became strong again, he could return to Hell, leaving this place forever.

But today, he finally got to do absolutely nothing and just enjoy (as much as one in his situation could) his time in this world. He lounged on the worn-out couch in his temporary studio apartment, a far cry from the opulence he once knew. It wasn't luxurious, but it was a necessary facade for now. The hum of soft jazz music and the smooth burn of whisky in his throat provided a rare moment of solace. He didn't really have the luxury to do this very often in Hell, so he didn't complain too much.

While taking a sip of whisky, he admired the sight in front of him – (y/n) promised a venison dinner if he improved his situation, which may or may not have boosted his motivation to continue this charade. The truth was, he missed venison. Hell had the most horrible meat ever and even if he got used to it, he still missed some real food.

Alastor's eyes followed (y/n) as she moved around the kitchen. David and his wife being the busy persons that they are, she was fresh from a parent-teacher meeting for her niece, Anne, dressed in a form-fitting black dress that accentuated her figure, her hair pinned up in a hasty yet elegant bun. Her elegance caught him off guard; he couldn't help but appreciate the sight.

The atmosphere surrounding them was undeniably intimate, with (y/n) insisting on keeping the lighting soft—just candles and a lamp. Her reason was that she was "too tired for bright lights," but the dim light only made her presence even more enchanting.

She rambled on about one of her friends going through a break-up. At first, Alastor genuinely tried to listen, but then Brenda would come in, then Nancy, then Samantha, and soon she was back to Nancy's friend, "Oh wait, no they're not friends anymore," and so on. He lay back, a sinister smile playing on his lips as her voice blended with the jazz music. His mind wandered to darker thoughts, imagining the chaos he could unleash if he chose to. For now, he relished the calm before the inevitable storm.

"And you know what's outrageous?" (y/n) asked while moving around the kitchen.

"What, darling?" Alastor asked, feigning interest while his mind wandered. He had lost track of the convoluted drama involving her friends.

"They're back together!" she said, turning to face him, waiting for his reaction.

"No way, dear. That's scandalous!" he said, pretending to be shocked. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You didn't even listen to me."

Alastor chuckled, caught red-handed. He gave her an innocent shrug, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Guilty as charged, darling." She rolled her eyes and turned back to her cooking.

"If you are so bored by my rambling, then you talk."

Alastor let out a low chuckle, enjoying her irritation a bit too much.