The day felt long in Louisiana. The heat was never bearing and the work never ended. For Lucille, the day was just beginning. She finally was able to stay in her dream city of New Orleans after many years of touring and staying at temporary studios. Her career had been so successful that her manager is finally allowing her to settle for a bit and take the opportunity of the booming entertainment to have a permanent studio in New Orleans. She longed to be closer to her family, to her roots. No place in the South was like Louisiana.
After finally settling into her new home, a small two-story house that didn’t require much, she was forced to head off to meet with her manager in the studio. Despite much of her manager’s pleas, she didn’t want a big fancy house with tons of rooms and a swimming pool. She wanted something small and simple that could last for generations. She also didn’t want the attention of everyone around her. Oh, what will the people say when they see a big ol’ fancy house in the middle of the city? They’d think she’s trying to show off.
Lucille always kept her face covered when in public. With a big scarf and black sunglasses covering her eyes, she made her way to the studio. She personally didn’t like the attention when she wasn’t performing anymore. When her career first started, it was all she could ever dream of! The eyes and ears of strangers listening to her sing and perform, adoring her every move, praising what talent she has, this lifestyle of hers is something that her family didn’t approve of. She was supposed to just be a quiet girl on her farm, doing the same homemaking duties as all the other ladies in her family and town did. Oh the jealousy of her hometown when she finally got out. Very few gave their appreciation and goodbyes when she left for touring.
Entering the studio, she took a breath of relief as she locked the door behind her, tearing the scarf off her head. Despite years of working in the heat, it was still suffocating at times. “Eli, I’ve arrived!”
A slightly older man popped out, cheerfully extending his arms out for a hug. He had his black hair slicked back and a nice tailored brown suit on. His rings beamed in the light as he embraced the girl. “Oh Lucille! The studio has turned out beautiful! The acoustics are spectacular and perfect for your voice! Here, come see!”
Eli — short for Elijah — was Lucille’s manager. He was an optimistic white man that never took no for an answer. He was the main reason that Lucille was able to have her career lift off. The privilege he carried everywhere he went along with the charm and looks of a good Christian man helped him score Lucille shows at some of the best arenas in the South. Despite giving Lucille all the credit every time, they both knew that succeeding this much in the South was something a colored person could almost never do by themselves.
The studio was as beautiful as Eli kept describing it. It had luxurious couches and the top-of-the-art recording technology that was needed to capture Lucille’s beautiful voice. She was ecstatic, jumping slightly with Eli holding his hand as they walked forward. “Oh, this is perfect! It has everything we need! My instruments, my mic, ooo~ my lucky charm as well!” She ran to the small rose pin that was attached to her microphone. “I’ve been looking everywhere for this! Did you take it?”
Eli chuckled, “ah, I found it while we were packing everything up. You ran off to whatever club you snuck off to and left this behind. I knew you’d lose it if I didn’t get it first.”
Lucille beamed, taking the rose pin and sticking it to her blouse. She had a soft smile as she looked up at Eli. “I have a feeling we’ll have a successful time here. New Orleans is perfect to establish ourselves even more. The culture is so rich! I’m sure we’ll find new ideas of music here.”
“Oh, I’m sure of it as well. I’ve been meaning to come back here for quite some time. As much as I love traveling with you, I think a good artist knows when it’s time to take a break from the extravagant touring life and set a good foundation for the next era of music. A lot has changed since we’ve stayed in Louisiana longer than a few days.” Eli motioned her to come back from the recording booth and to the table filled with countless notebooks and papers. “I’ve still got some paperwork I needa finish. There’re some artists ‘round here that would be delighted to collaborate with you. Why don’ you go and check ‘em out and see what kind of talent they got?”
Lucille nodded, excited but dreading the heat again. She always loved meeting new artists, though sometimes they would try to flirt with her and trap her in uncomfortable situations. She usually goes with Eli to have backup, but she thought she would have less chances since this was her town for a bit. He gave her a list of artists and addresses to check around town. As she was rushing to get to her first stop, a man bumped into her, causing her to lose her balance. She quickly tried to regain her footing, but her heels made it extremely difficult and she began to fall. She was certain she would ruin her new dress when a pair of strong arms grabbed her waist and helped her up.
A bit flustered and embarrassed, Lucille quickly glanced up, her sunglasses tilted and scarf a bit unwraveled. Her face felt hot as she stared at the kind gentleman that helped her up. He had loosely curled hair with some strands covering his eyes and a nice fancy red vest that stood out. He had a warm smile as his glasses gleamed a bit in the sunlight. His brown eyes stood out in the light as Lucille tried to scramble the words to say thank you. “Oh dear, you nearly fell and would’ve spoiled your beautiful dress.”
“I’m so sorry!” She yelped, trying to dust off any dirt that may have gotten on her dress. “These shoes always give me a hard time…” For a moment, she was mesmerized by how beautiful his face was with his smile. “Thank you so much mister…?”
”Alastor is just fine miss,” he stated, lightly shaking her hand. His eyes analyzed the woman in front of him, trying to figure out what about her was so familiar. “Have we met before?”
Lucille not wanting to reveal herself in this huge crowd began to feel her brain racing with potential answers. “Ah, I don’t think we have. It’s been so long since I’ve been in New Orleans. Pardon me if I’ve forgotten a friendly face.”
Alastor nodded, still feeling skeptical. There was something about her voice now that had to be familiar. An old schoolmate or neighbor? “No, it’s quite alright. As much as I would like to chat, I must be headed off now. Hope to see you around, miss…?”
”Call me Justine,” she smiled, tilting her head a bit. Alastor, who was beginning to get frustrated with himself for not remembering where he met this lady before, smiled back.
”Justine… a beautiful name indeed,” he whispered to her. He adjusted her sunglasses and scarf before giving her a small wink and heading off to wherever he needed to be. Lucille, completely disfraveled from her interaction from a handsome gentleman nodded and rushed off to her next stop. With her head still running crazy with thoughts and face hot, she missed the studio a few times.
That handsome young man… He looked to be about her age. He had this charismatic charm to him that never left Lucille’s mind. She noticed how curious he was looking at her, how his eyes never left her and how nice his cologne smelled, how his hair fell over his eye as he had bent to help her from falling. Oh, what a sucker she was for men in glasses. She had to establish her composure again before entering the first studio with the thoughts of that kind and handsome gentleman from earlier never leaving her mind.
—
Night finally arrived and Lucille walked down the street with Eli, the streetlights barely illuminating the streets. “My day was inexcusably boring… You’d never believe the amount of paperwork they had me doing. Seems like they can’t stop torturing me for dragging you back to Louisiana."
Lucille laughed softly. “Ah, those yankees’ll never understand. They’ll never understand the beauty of the south. All they care about is their money money money…” An idea popped into Lucille’s mind. “Oh Eli, let’s go to one of the speakeasies I’ve heard about. A good drink would definitely lift your moods!”
Eli chuckled. “Not tonight. Besides, you’re not supposed to be going out to the bars without your team. As much as I want to be lenient, you can’t go into any illegal establishment without someone guarding your back! Too much attention on you and you can get into a ton of legal trouble and paperwork.”
Lucille huffed, crossing her arms. “I never get to do anything fun. Folks my age are always out at this time. All I get to do is sit in my room and be by my lonesome self.”
”I’ve always said I’d be more than welcomed to come accompany you,” hinted Eli, elbowing her a bit.
”Oh please… you’d fall asleep on my couch within seconds.”
”Rude…” Eli muttered, walking Lucille to her home. “And now I’m serious when I say don’t be going into no secret bar or house or whatever. This your first night back home and I don’t want to be woken up to the police knocking at my door with some nonsense about you drinking at a juice joint. I want my rest and no more paperwork!”
”Yes sir…” she sighed, sticking her tongue out. She unlocked her door and gave Eli a small hug before entering her home. Removing her accessories, she made her way into her room. She didn’t have much yet since it had been years since she was able to have a permanent home. She was looking forward to decorating her home a bit more before inviting anyone over. As she began to get ready for the night, she heard some commotion outside her window. Peaking, she saw a couple of people walking into an alley in fancy clothing, obviously ready for a night out. Curious, she decided to put on an old dress of hers and a black robe. She wore a black hat and toned down her jewelry with only a small set of pearls and went out, making sure her manager still wasn’t around at night.
She fixed her hair, a short, coily bob that didn't need much work, by tying a head wrap around it before heading out the door. She slowly followed where the couple went and saw some stairs that led to an underground bar. She had only been to a couple of these secret establishments with other artists where they already had some connections. She didn’t know the password or secret anything to get inside. Another pair walked into front of her and whispered a word she could barely hear and she quickly followed behind them, making her way inside.
When she entered, the warmest of lights lit up the entire area. It seemed spacious for a secret location. There were beautiful paintings and shelves of alcohol just sitting on the shelves while everyone talked their life away, sipping on their beverage. It was a surprise to her that the colored people were able to stay in the same room as the white people. In the speakeasies in Alabama, they had to find an exclusively for colored people. She wandered in, asking for a glass of their finest whiskey before noticing the beautiful jazz that was coming from another side of the room. She collected her drink before heading towards the sound.
A familiar man with curly hair danced slightly as he softly played the piano. He wore the same red vest as before with a black blazer above and a few golden accessories. A trumpet sang along with him, playing one of Lucille’s favorite Louis Armstrong’s songs, A Kiss to Build a Dream On. As she tried to get a closer look at the band, she realized that the man on the piano was the same as the one she ran into that morning. Recalling that morning, she took a huge swig of her drink to calm herself before settling down on a nearby table.
When Alastor looked up from his piano, he noticed the familiar face almost immediately. She continued to have her all black getup with a tad bit more makeup and subtle jewelry. Intrigued, he gave her another warm smile and wink before focusing his attention on the music. Lucille’s face turned hot yet and again as she continued to enjoy the music. Not only was he handsome, but also a musician. She covered her mouth as she tried to regain her thoughts.
The band continued on for a couple more songs before taking a break. During that time, Lucille had a couple of men join her at her table to which she softly declined them after a few short conversations. She enjoyed the free drinks she did receive from them. She sighed as another gentleman walked up to her with two flasks of whiskeys. ”Ah, I didn’t expect to see you so soon after our encounter.”
Lucille looked up, meeting face-to-face with the same man from earlier. He handed her the drink and sat in front of her taking a few sips of his whiskey with two ice. “Alastor… was it? I didn’t know you were a musician.”
”I am a man of the arts, Miss Justine,” he smiled through his glass. “I occasionally play in these juice joints from time to time. Are you also a musician?”
“Of sorts.” She swirled her glass a bit. “I can play all sorts of instruments. I believe one of the most powerful instruments however is the voice. That I am best at.”
”Oh?” Alastor questioned, a mischievous smirk on his face. “Is that so? I’m quite curious. I’d love to hear your voice.”
Lucille, feeling a bit of all the alcohol she drank, shook her head. “I can’t sing somewhere so public like this. I don’t like attracting a ton of attention to myself. You can, however, sing a small song.”
Alastor chuckled. “Ah, I insist. Ladies first after all. If you show me your voice, I’ll show you mine~” His eyes were filled with curiosity with a hint of mischief. It seems like his eyes are always filled with mischief, Lucille noted.
She tilted her head, giggling to herself a bit. She knew it was silly to reveal herself to a stranger, but she was too tipsy to really do anything to stop it. How could she deny such a handsome and charming man of a simple request? “Only if you can keep it a secret. I’ll sing anything you request. Pinky promise?”
Alastor, taken back from the childish request, complied and locked his pinky with her. “Pinky promise.” He took a sip of his whiskey to ponder. “Hmm… how about one of your favorite songs? Give me a peek into your musical heart.”
“Ah… so hard! I hate picking favorites.” She cleared her throat and leaned in closely, cueing Alastor to also lean forward. “I am a huge fan of Josephine Baker. Pretty little baby~”
Alastor’s eyes widened a bit as he listened to her sing. He finally knew where he recognized her. It was Lucille Benoit, the famous Jazz singer and one of the youngest to do it. Surprised, he couldn’t help but to let his shock show in his face for a moment before returning back to his usual smile. The lady he helped and charmed was thee famous New Orleans singer, Lucille Benoit!
He softly clapped his hands when she finished. “What a beautiful voice you have. Such a shame you want to hide it from everyone else, Miss Justine. You sure you wouldn’t want to join my crew tonight?”
Lucille laughed. “Ah, I’m afraid I’m not looking for attention tonight. I just wanted to have a night of drinking and relaxation. Perhaps another time.” She motioned her glass towards the man in front of her. “Now, you have another part of the deal to finish.”
For a small moment, there was a silence between them. They stared into each other’s eyes, completely blinded by each other. Lucille, because of the handsome and charming man in front of her, and Alastor, because the top musician from this side of town was right in front of him drinking and singing with him. From a stranger’s perspective, it’d seem like the two were engaged in a romantic date, tension so strong. Before either one could say another word, there was a large commotion at the entrance of the building. It seemed like the police had found the place and were beginning to try to shut it down.
Lucille gasped, realizing she was most likely going to get arrested tonight despite her manager’s request. Alastor, noticing this, realized the opportunity in front of him. If he could save the artist from the police and get out with no harm, he could potentially form the biggest and best connection he could possibly have in the entire state. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her slightly. She turned to him. “Come. I know how we can escape this.”
Trusting the man blindly, she followed Alastor into the men’s restroom of the place. Realizing the stupid situation she just got herself in, she feared that Alastor had just taken advantage of her and was going to try to pull something quick on her. On the contrary, Alastor began hitting the ceiling above a stall and motioned Lucielle to take a step back. The tile fell on the floor and revealed the escape out. Alastor turned to the lady with his hand out. “Ladies first. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”
”How will you get out?” she asked, worried that he wouldn’t be able to climb out without any help.
“Fear not. I am a strong climber,” he winked. She took his hand and allowed him to lift herself up. He was careful about how he handled her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Lucille, completely embarrassed, lifted herself to the outside, dirtying up her attire in the process. Once she was secured on the ground, she reached her hand out to Alastor.
”I know I seem weak, but I have years of heavy lifting under my belt,” she smiled, giving him a wink. Alastor grinned, flashing his white teeth at her while he took her hand and climbed his way out next. “I’m not like you city folk.”
Alastor then covered the escape hole with a cardboard box that was outside. “I’d love to hear more about it in the proper environment, darling. We should go before they catch us here.”
”The night is still so young. We could go to another place and chat?” Lucille insisted. She didn’t want the gentleman to go, especially after the escape they had. What a thrill that was! She hadn’t had a night like that in so long. “I never have time for something as thrilling as this.”
Alastor began to lead her out into another side of town. “Shouldn’t a lady like yourself enjoy a more quiet night instead? The night in New Orleans isn’t kind to someone as lovely as yourself. It’s quite dangerous out here.”
Blushing at his comment, Lucille shook her head. “Too many boring nights. I never get the chance like this during the day to do much. This will probably be the last time I have the chance to enjoy a rebellious night out before I settle into my work.” She beamed at him. “Besides, you haven’t fulfilled your portion of the deal.”
The gentleman chuckled. “I suppose you are right. If rebellious is what you seek, then I have a fun adventure for you, my dear.” He let his arm out for her to hook onto. “I’d also love to continue hearing your enchanting voice.”
She smiled as she hooked her arm into his. She lowered her hat a bit, trying to avoid anyone looking at her face but also to prevent Alastor from seeing her blush. “Lead the way, kind gentleman.”
***
hi everyone! this is my first upload on tumblr! i am cross-posting on ao3 as well under the name spacetrees. used to write on wattpad YEARS ago and now switched here. will try to make this historically accurate so feel free to give me feedback n all that :)
to all my other latino baddies that watch hazbin hotel, do y’all think alastor would like salsa? i could just be making up stuff in my head cause it’s 2 am right now, but for some reason, i feel like alastor would vibe with salsa, ESPECIALLY the dancing. it’s so percussive and makes you wanna dance like jazz! what other genres of music do y’all think alastor would like besides jazz?
also lowkey wrote this cause i saw some dude dancing like a full suit with a red tie and it reminded me of alastor especially with his curly hair mk byyee
as someone from the deep south with family and friends from louisiana, i wish more people were interested in the historical context in fiction. like with alastor, i always see how they call him “french” and while that might be technically true, he’s creole. ask anyone from Louisiana and they’ll tell you it’s its own separate language and it has its own culture. it’s mixed with a variety of different languages and practices. you can say he speaks cajun french, which would sound more accurate and similar to like modern french since it’s a dialect in louisiana, but anyone with grandparents raised in louisiana will tell you that speaking any kind french was prohibited and they’d receive severe punishment in schools. hence why alastor doesn’t speak it throughout the show except for that small bit when he was alive and he was alone when he said it. (also wish alastor had more of a southern or NOLA accent ;-;)
i’m glad there are other POCs and native louisianians who highlight alastor’s background. this might just be a small pet peeve of mine when i read fanfics that mention alastor’s french. it’s also hard to write louisiana creole i believe since it’s more of a spoken language rather than one that has a set writing system, especially back then where it was pushed to teach the school curriculum entirely in english.
also if there are fanfics that mention his creole let me know 🫦
do y’all think alastor would eat his (pretty sure mostly racist) victims because back then, they used to eat and cook slaves and Native Americans so it’s kinda like payback or like power dominance?
You run a quiet cafe in New Orleans, where one mysterious customer, Alastor, always seems to be watching. After you silently wish havoc upon a group of men harassing you, they turn up dead the next morning. Whispers of the Bayou Ripper terrorises the city, while you begin to realise your wishes may not fall on empty air and he might be the one listening. Has he always been the one listening?
part 4
♡ ♡ ♡
6:07pm.
The cafe lights flickered a warm gold. Tables were wiped clean, chairs were neatly stacked. Outside, the street darkened, swallowed by a cold, creeping blue, as street lamps sputtered to life, casting long shadows across the cobbled paths. A few wandering souls hurried back into their homes, skittering like rats before the haunting of the night purges their peaceful life. The door were locked, the sign was turned, but it still felt like something else was near you. The night stretched out, heavy and hungry, as if it were waiting to devour everything in its path. It had a life of its own, creeping in through the cracks of the alley ways, curling around the edges of your cafe.
The gentleman hadn’t returned that afternoon, but his presence lingered. The air felt still like someone had taken the winds pulse.
You rubbed your arms, wrapping your scarf tightly around you.
That was when the shadows in the peripheral shifted quietly, like they were stepping out of their own accord. Alastor materialised around the turn as if he had been there waiting.
He stood near the window, hands loosely clasped behind him. He didn’t speak first but something in the angle of his silhouette hinted that he wanted to.
He was listening to the silence before you spoke. “Alastor?”
His head tilted, amused. “You should lock the back door as well, my dear.”
The night air nipped at your fingertips and made the street lamps glow a little warmer. You saw clusters of moths finding solace under the rays.
With the chaos of recent events, and with the predator’s shadow lingering too close, Alastor became something like your streetlamp. An unreliable source of light in the suffocating dark. As the world seemed to close in around you, he stood there, like a beacon against the weight of the night. His warmth was the only thing between you and the, invisible threat creeping closer, yet even he felt like something fragile, unable to push the darkness fully back, but trying nonetheless.
“You got that right. There’s no sense in tempting fate, especially with the way things been going” You hummed back, stumbling over to the door, fumbling for the key in your coat pocket. With a quick twist, the lock clicks, and you stand there a moment longer, eyes fixed on the door as if expecting it to move.
Alastor chuckled, “one can never be too careful, hmm? Now, allow me to escort you home, my dear. It would be my absolute pleasure.”
You feel the claws of the darkness retreating away from behind you. “Well now, ain't you the gentleman. Lead the way."
His grin widened, satisfied. “Grand! Shall we?”
The walk started pleasant, old brick streets, the distant hum of jazz leaking from a club. But you couldn’t help but notice a crooked man leaning against a lamp post at the corner ahead, cigarette dangling, eyes already tracking you.
“Well now, look at you, sugar. Ain’t no way a beauty like you should be out here in the dark. Why don’t you let me walk you home instead? I promise you’ll be safer"
You stiffened immediately, unconsciously picking up your pace. Alastor’s gait didn’t change. But his smile did. “Some men lack both manners and dignity.” He said quietly, voice thick with a velvet warning.
“What’s the matter, huh? Too good for a little conversation? I ain’t tryin' to bite, just talk. Ain’t no harm in that."
You both kept walking.
“Hey!” the man called again. “I wasn’t done talkin’”
His words choked off abruptly. You didn’t look back, but you felt Alastor tilt his head, as if memorizing the man’s face, his posture, the cadence of his breath. Filing it away like a name on a list. A debt to collect.
You heard the man drunkly mumble under his breath, talking to the dismissive air. “Women these days, always actin like they’re too good for a man. Think you’re somethin' special, huh? Just a broad in lipstick, thinkin you can ignore me."
“Men just get loud when they don’t get what they want, huh?” You sigh, used to the encounter.
Alastor blinked innocence. “Loud men are often the easiest to silence.”
The air around you both seemed to vibrate, like a violin string pulled too tight. You both walked in a silence that wasn’t empty but carefully chosen. An unspoken weight that neither of you touched, you just let the quiet settle in like the fog; pretending the peace was real.
When you reached your building, you turned to him, hands clasped politely, trying to ignore the way he stood a touch too close.
“Well then, thank you for seeing me home again.”
“It was my pleasure entirely.” He reached up slowly, fingertips brushing a loose curl from your cheek. You froze, breath catching. “Forgive me,” he murmured, voice low and uncharacteristically soft, “but you do make even the night feel less dreary.”
“There you go again, making such remarks.”
He chuckled, eyes gleaming. “Can’t I? I was under the impression such compliments were considered gentlemanly.”
He leaned down, not quite touching, close enough that his breath ghosted your lips. His hand hovered at your waist but didn’t settle.
You made no move forward which Alastor noticed.
“Ever the careful one” he purred.
“Someone has to be, you’re forever rushing headlong”
Alastor’s brows arched. “Do I?”
“Mhm”
There was a long, charged pause between you, then, very quietly, “May I?” He didn’t specify what. He didn’t need to.
You hesitate, chewing the inside of your cheek before nodding. Only then did he close the distance.
The kiss was slow, almost testing, the way an intruder tests a locked door before breaking it open. His gloved fingers brushed the side of your jaw, just barely anchoring you.
You felt him smiling against your lips, like this was something he’d waited far longer than he cared to admit.
When you finally kissed him back, his breath hitched. Just once.
His hovering hand rested at your hips, drawing you toward him as he guided you to the wall behind you. The kiss deepened with a kind of tentative certainty, a mix of restraint and wanting, as though he was asking for more without speaking a word.
Alastor tilted his head further, grazing your bottom lip with his tongue as he pushed himself closer to you. His knee eased between yours, guiding you into the space he created, while his fingers curled around your jaw, coaxing your face closer to his.
A warm thrill rolled through you, soft but impossible to ignore. Your body leaned into him before you could think. You were drawn by the steady pressure of his touch. Your stomach fluttered, nerves and desire tangling together as you moved your lips in the rhythm of his hungry kisses.
Abruptly, he broke away, not far, but enough. His smile was a bit too sharp, eyes a bit too bright.
“That,” he said lightly, “is quite enough for tonight.”
Your lip parted. “Don’t tell me you’re stopping now.”
His grin widened, almost wolfish. “If I continue, my dear, I fear I may become decidedly less gentlemanly.”
“Well-“ you started, frowning as you saw him tip his head towards you. “Inside you go.”
“And this?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
You glances up at the sky as you linger at the doorstep, the clouds were swollen and dark, tinged with a sickly green glow that makes the world feel just a little off balance, like the calm before a storm. Shadows stretch long and jagged across the cobbled streets, and a faint electric hum seems to vibrate in the air.
“Will you be alright?” You murmur.
Alastor tilts his head slightly, letting a corner of his grin linger in the shadows. “ Oh perfectly”
You raise your brows at him, amused almost. As you steps inside, he lets his hand hover in the air for a moment where yours had been, almost as if reluctant to let the contact go. Yours shoes click against the floor as you moves away, giving him a final glance.
The moment you disappeared from view, Alastor’s smile dropped into something colder.
His shadow stretched unnaturally long as he walked back into the night. “Nocturnal pests,” he mused, playing the memory of the earlier interruption. “One must keep the streets clean for her.”
7:01pm.
Alastor wipes the speck of blood from his face, humming softly.
The body lies slumped behind a warehouse, throat cut with surgical precision. No rage. No hesitation. Just a quick, merciless kill.
He dusts off his coat, straightens his tie, and steps neatly around the pooling blood. There is a rhythm to justice, after all, a tempo he knows by heart.
The night had been simple after you parted ways. He retraced the route to the drunk. He followed the man for seven blocks. Watched him curse at a beggar. Watched him shove a vendor. Watched him smoke nervously as he realised someone was behind him.
Alastor had smiled.
“Good evening. You’ve had such a busy day. Let’s bring it to a close, shall we?”
Now, he feels the city breathe easier. He looked at the direction of your building, despite it being out of view. His fingertips brushed his lips before he lowered his head.
Then vanished into the night.
♡ ♡ ♡
💌likes and reblogs are always appreciated!
I NEED HIM SO BAD ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY ME!!!! ALASTOR IN MY ROOM BUTT BOOTY NAKED WITH A RIBBOW ON HIS DICK 🙏
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