#and i'm trying to be a normal human around her like we were in a group and i participated and talked and stuff

[kate-apologist]

.

[benegesseritofficial]

The effects of face paint on Harrowhark's psyche

I've now cosplayed Gideon Nav 3 times, with my wife along as Harrow every time. Naturally, this has included full face paint for both of us each time and I have some thoughts.

Let me start by asserting that everything Muir writes in TLT about the face paint is accurate. Rubbing off your lips first, smearing into gray where the black and white meet, the way sweat makes it ooze but not run. I can't say if Muir (a known Homestuck) ever cosplayed as a troll, but I'm positive she tested out the practicality of the skull face paint or otherwise has first hand experience with extensive use of grease paint. Also, the way she describes normal people flinching when they see you is spot on.

I've noticed while putting on the make up that once most of my skin is covered, any flesh tones sticking out start to become unsettling. Specifically, the red/pink of the inner mouth and around the eyes jump out upsettingly. Every time I've done skull paint I find myself meticulously trying to patch over these edges of skin, despite knowing that it's inside skin that Shouldn't Have Make Up On It. Once my face is monochrome, I don't want to be able to see a scrap of real human under there. Smiling, or otherwise opening your mouth wide enough to see the pink, looks UNSETTLING. My own skin causes the uncanny valley effect. You see where this is going. In NtN we learn Harrowhark disassociates often enough that Crux isn't surprised or concerned to see "Harrow" insisting she's someone else. Obviously this is due to her schizophrenia, and perhaps trauma besides. But it doesn't account for every aspect of why Harrow's "like that." On her most lucid days Harrow ignores her body to the point of sweating blood and passing out. She goes entire days without eating. She thinks of herself as a skeleton unfortunately covered in flesh. She sleeps in her paint.

All of which is heinous, but that last one has stuck with me. From age 13-18 I barely glanced down while I showered and whatever I saw I basically blocked out. I wore underwear and a bra under my pajamas to sleep every night. I was going through the wrong puberty, "my body was in open rebellion" as I liked to say at the time, and the only way to cope was to bind it down and pretend it wasn't happening. By Gideon's narration in HtN one gets the impression most nuns of the Ninth are putting their paint on after breakfast and taking it off when they get home. It's not even expected the average person wears it every time they leave the house. But Harrow regularly only takes her paint off in order to redo it. I suspect a combination of being the most brainwashed person in her own cult, knowing how she was conceived, and the regular disassociation make it very difficult for Harrow to conceptualize that she actually lives in a body. If she faced that fact head on she'd have to ask why it so often feels someone else is using her body. She'd have to cope with owning this body, being a part of this body, that was bought with the blood of 200 children who should have been her peers and friends. Instead she pretends it's an object on loan from them. And she does it with 10 layers of black petticoats and so much paint she never has to see her own skin.

Which brings me to the final thing I've noticed wearing full face paint. It dehumanizes you to yourself and everyone around you. I couldn't read my own expressions in a mirror. Even people who understood and were delighted with my cosplay were visibly nervous talking to me. You don't look like a person. Studies have shown that faces wearing heavy make up are ranked as harder to read and perceived as less empathetic. It's a particularly insidious trap of patriarchy that many women find self esteem in wearing make up, while that very act makes everyone around them treat them more callously. And, worst of all, if you stop wearing it once you're used to it, your naked face is shocking. You look sick due to your colors being less bold and the normal small flaws of your face appear unbearably ugly. With all this in mind, Harrow has trapped herself in a feedback loop of not being able to witness her own face and becoming more and more disgusted with the flesh and person underneath whenever she has to glance at it.

[hareofhrair]

I wanted to put this one the previous post but it was long and this is a tangent but- In regards to the hypothetical "If House was my doctor I'd just tell him everything. Rip to all his other patients but I'm different."

The whole point of the show is that you wouldn't. Like a major theme of the show is about how the various shames and stigmas and habitual dishonesties that plague our societies both metaphorically and literally kill us. "Everybody lies" isn't just a cynical catchphrase, it's the shows thesis. Because of how we operate as a society, everyone feels compelled to suppress and hide things and that inevitably leads to suffering.

And there are plenty of episodes where this is obvious, ie "I cheated on my partner and gave them an STD." But there's also much more of "This little girl went through early puberty and because of the way our society stigmatizes women's bodies her single father never discussed puberty with her and she was so afraid and ashamed of her new pubic hair that she tried to shave it without telling anyone and mutilated herself, leading everyone to think she'd been abused and throwing off the whole case until House figured out her hormones were going crazy because she'd been exposed to her father's low T medicine, which he hid because of how our society regards masculinity, which he started taking because he began dating a younger woman (because of shame stemming from our society's unrealistic expectations wrt sex in relationships) which he was hiding from his kids, because of shame regarding our societies toxic views on monogamy."

A particular episode stands out as a really good example. S06E15 "Private Lives," which aired in 2010 but was fairly prescient about where social media was heading. The patient was a blogger who documented literally every moment of every day for her followers. She made it very clear she left *nothing* out, from her and her boyfriend's sex life to, eventually, asking for feedback from her followers on whether to get her heart valve replaced with one from a pig or a "vegan" plastic one. She handed the whole blog over to House as soon as he took the case and the team poured through the whole thing. Surely this is proof you're wrong about everybody lying, the team says to House. She's give us her whole life and you still can't find out what's wrong! Spoiler, it turned out the crucial symptom that allowed House to put it all together? Was the one thing she *didn't* include in the blog- Her bowel movements. Shame and stigma around talking about *poop* nearly killed this woman. It was also a detail that should have been picked up immediately by a normal doctor, who would have asked about her bowel movements as part of the standard checklist of diagnostic questions. But this woman was so confident that she'd laid out every relevant detail of her life in her blog, she wouldn't answer those questions, obfuscating what she was actually ashamed of underneath a pile of curated, rationalized, narritivized junk she could pretend was proof of a lack of shame and not simply a skill at creative writing.

When I say "I'd just tell House everything" is ridiculous, I don't just mean "well, because of the way the show works, you HAVE to be hiding SOMETHING." I mean literally, you- because you are a human being- are ashamed of *something.* And because you are a human being, the more info you try to give House the more deeply you will bury whatever it is you're actually ashamed of. And, because of the way the show works, that *will* end up being the key to what's making you sick.

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

The Strongest Cullen

Based on this request:  I loved your Jasper headcanon! Could you write a fic with it? Like Jasper meets his mate, but she’s human and he’s scared he’ll hurt her because of his strong blood lust. After they get to know each other, the reader tells Jasper what she thinks(your headcanon) and that she knows he his stronger than he thinks and that he won’t hurt her.

Here you are! I apologize for the wait! Familiar characters are NEVER mine!

Fandom: Twilight

Warnings: Mentions of vampire diet(I mean, it's Twilight), Jasper is an anxious boy. Fluff!

Pairings/Characters: Jasper Hale x fem!reader, mentions of other Cullens, specifically Emmett.

Carlisle frowned at the look on his adopted son's face. While Jasper was always tense around humans at school, he had never come home looking so morose. "Jasper?" The blond looked at Carlisle and sighed. "My mate…is human." It didn't take long for Carlisle to catch the drift. "And you're worried you'll harm them?" Jasper nodded which caused Carlisle to ask about the bloodlust around the mate.

       "I don't-I don't feel the need to drain her. Really, I hardly feel the bloodlust around her, but what happens if an accident happens to someone else while I'm around her? I'm the weakest link, we all know that, especially after what happened with Bella. If someone else is bleeding around us, I can't guarantee she won't be hurt as well."

       Carlisle smiled a little and patted his son on the shoulder. "Jasper, I really don't think that will happen. If you don't feel the bloodlust with her, it's possible that she will actually be able to calm you. Maybe you should give her a chance. You know mates, true mates, are a rare find. You should give it a chance if that's what your heart is telling you no matter what anyone else says." Carlisle left Jasper to think on what he'd said.

*time skip*

       Jasper couldn't fight his smile as you laughed after beating Emmett at Mario Kart…again. "I told you, Big Bear, you cannot beat me," you said with a giggle. Emmett pouted playfully and you leaned back into Jasper. A smile made its way to Jasper's face. He was more than happy that he gave loving you a chance. Still, he worried that something would happen to you. You were, by nature, fragile compared to him.

       "What's on your mind, handsome?" you asked, carding your fingers through his hair. Jasper sighed before standing and reaching his hand out to you. You didn't hesitate even a moment in taking his hand. Jasper led you up to his room and closed the door. For a moment, Jasper said nothing. He had no idea how to approach this with you.

       "Jasper? Are you okay?" you asked, looking up at him with such concern, the vampire melted. "There's something I need to tell you," he whispered. You sat down on the bed that Jasper, unbeknownst to you, had purchased simply so you would have somewhere to nap when you visited.

       "Okay. You're scaring me a little so just…get it over with." Jasper chuckled a little to himself. If you were scared now, he could only imagine how scared you'd be after he told you. "I-that is-my family and I…we're not exactly normal." You snorted a little. "No shit. What's normal about being so damn beautiful it should be illegal? Or never, and I do mean NEVER eating even though your mom cooks like a gourmet chef? Or the fact that none of you look like you get any sleep? Or the fact that I'm always so calm around you?"

       Jasper heard his family laughing downstairs and sighed. "Beautiful, you are not making this easy," he joked. You gave him a smile and took his hand. "I'm sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood a little. Whatever it is you have to tell me, I'm ready to listen."

       "We're vampires." The words just came out, as easy as breathing. You blinked at him for a moment and for that moment, Jasper couldn't feel any emotion coming from you at all. It frightened him, honestly. But then as suddenly as it happened, you were back. "Vampires? O-Oh okay. Well that explains…a lot actually." Jasper couldn’t feel any fear from you. Just curiosity.

“I can feel that you have questions. Ask,” he stated. He wanted to get this over with, just in case you chose to break his heart. You pondered for a minute as Edward’s laughter drifted up to Jasper. Clearly the mind reader had heard something funny in your thoughts. “So you’ve got some vampiric powers or whatever, right?” Jasper nodded and a slight frown made your brows furrow. “Does that mean Emmett’s been letting me win Mario Kart?!” 

Jasper stared for what felt like an eternity. Then, before he could stop himself, he began laughing. Really laughing for the first time in a very long time. “Really?” he asked between laughs, “I tell you to ask questions and that’s what comes to your mind?” You shrugged a little. “Look, I expect to cream your brother at video games fair and square.”

“You, Darling, are something else.” You beamed and gently tugged at his hand so he would sit down next to you. “Got you to laugh, didn’t I? Jasper, if you thought I was going to run, then you clearly don’t know me at all. We’ve been together for what, eleven months now? If you were going to hurt me, you would have already.” Jasper’s smile dropped almost instantly, but he replied, “There’s more. Some vampires have…gifts.”

“Since you’re telling me this, I assume you’re one of those vampires?” He nodded. “I am. I’m an empath. I can sense and influence anything anyone is feeling. Sometimes it even happens by accident. Edward’s a telepath.” It was in that moment your face finally showed fear, but that conflicted with what Jasper was feeling from you. 

“Y-You mean Edward can read minds? Like every mind?” Jasper confirmed, but mentioned that Bella was the exception. “Oh that’s…not good.” Jasper arched a brow and smirked a little. “Don’t look at me like that. You are insanely good-looking and there may have been a few…not so innocent thoughts a time or two.” Jasper shook his head fondly and chuckled. “Really though, why are you telling me this now? Has something happened?” Jasper denied it, but replied, “It’s only a matter of time though. I-I’m not as…strong as the rest of my family when it comes to our diet.”

“Your diet?” you asked, squeezing Jasper’s cold hand a little tighter. “We feed on animals. It sustains us, but not as well as human blood. I’m newest to the diet besides Bella and have struggled the most. I’m a weak link.” Your confusion grew in an instant. “Why do you say that? Do you think you’re dangerous to me? Do you want MY blood?” Jasper immediately denied your thoughts. “No. I just need to warn you. Accidents have happened around me. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” He then proceeded to tell you what happened with Bella and you asked a few questions.

Once you’d gotten your answers, you sat in silence for a little while. Jasper felt your emotions, confusion, curiosity, love, devotion. No fear, uncertainty, or disgust. That was a good sign. “What are you thinking, Darling?” he asked after a few minutes. “I don’t think you’re weak, Jasper.” His eyes widen. Had you not heard what he said? “What?”

“Think about it,” you told him, “You’re an empath. You said yourself that animal blood doesn’t satisfy as well as human blood.” At his nod, you continued, “Well then, it stands to reason that, when Bella gave herself that paper cut, you were all feeling some form of thirst, right?” Again, Jasper agreed. You nodded like you’d just solved a great mystery.

“There you go! You weren’t just feeling your own thirst, Jas. You were feeling Alice, Emmett, Rosie’s…everyone else’s as well. The thirst of seven vampires hitting you all at once. No wonder you snapped. You are absolutely not weak, Jasper Hale. In fact, I think you’re the strongest person I have ever known.”

Your impassioned words left Jasper speechless. His eyes filled with tears that would never fall. “I don’t deserve you. You are too good for me. You understand so much more than I thought you would. You’re compassionate and brilliant and I think I…love you, Y/N,” he admitted when he felt like he could finally speak again. You beamed at him. “Nonsense. You deserve all the love I have to give. And I love you too, Jasper. Fangs and all.” He rolled his eyes as you giggled.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Twilight Tags: @awesomebooklover17

[l3monlem0n]

Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>

SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering

Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun

She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband

As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)

Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already

Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke

OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier

"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months

Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode

Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol

Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper

You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...

...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)

Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever

friggin bug (very pos)

You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):

NOT judge her

Forced prom date (?)

Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery

The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast

This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof

We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot

There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?

We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk

Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded

Just N being a good boy :3

The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image

Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)

I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is

Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)

I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage

Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun

This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...

...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)

(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)

Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole

Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Your back! Hi! :D Ok, the guys adore and are protective of their female human best friend (fem reader). She shares a strong bond with them, and they with her. So, if she ever gets injured or sick, the guys are protective for a while. She is ready to help them again (as much as she can with being a human and all) but what she doesn't realize is that this time it's close to their spring season, making them very protective, territorial, and aggressive to outsiders. How would this play out as they are close to their primal time of the year, and she wants to go with them as they're about to leave on patrol, but they won't let her? Fluffy ending. 🥺(maybe some turtle noises and behaviors too)

Protective TMNT headcanons—reader wants to come on patrol

Bayverse, 2003, or 2012 if it suits ya. 🤷‍♀️. SFW! Mentions of "spring season" for the boys but nothing s*xual. hope u like it @pokemew119 !

Leonardo:

• Like Leonardo, we'll be straight to the point with this one—he's not going to want you going out with them. Normally, he doesn't want you to. Now he really doesn't want you to

• Due to their biology, springtime can be pretty dreadful for the bunch (for Splinter, too, he's the one having to manage them). Aggression, sensitivity, protectiveness, fussing over their rooms, etc. So you asking Leo to go out on their nightly patrol with them was a "this really isn't a good time" moment for him

• "The Lair is warm and safe, why would you want to come out here, anyways? Leave the fighting to me. That's what I'm here for, that's my job."

• Can be a little bit of an ass about it ngl, because he just wants to know you're home with someone he actually trusts to protect you, their father

• You heard Leo bark your name as you started up the ladder out of the sewers. Blue eyes giving you a suspicious look. You were trying to sneak topside so you'd be out there before he was able to protest. "No, no, go ask Master Splinter to show you some stuff if you want something to do so badly."

• Pats you along back to the Lair, watching to make sure you actually go back inside

• If you DO end up out there with them, he's going to be stressing a little more than usual about the setup because it throws him off having someone he feels he needs to constantly look out for, unlike his brothers who are more or less self-sufficient. But you bet you're always going to be his first priority, no hesitation

Michelangelo:

• For once, the heightened senses of springtime had Mikey thinking slightly more rationally than usual

• "Babycakes, you sure you want to come? It's ugly out there, smells bad, full of dudes always asking for a beat-down, maybe you should stay." Ruffles your hair for reassurance. "We can play games when I get back!"

• Secretly tries to dissuade you from even wanting to go out with them in the first place with promises of fun back at home

• If you do go anyways, he's taking every chance to show off his nunchaku skills

• Gets annoyed at his siblings for taking your attention away from him (oop there's the possessiveness)

• Very touchy, constantly hanging off of you or trying to play-fight, sit close to you on the sofa, scoot his chair towards you at dinner, etc.

• You ask if you can go with them on their way out and you catch Mikey

• He smiles big and sheepishly shakes his head, "Sorry, y/n, not tonight! You're kickin' back in my beanbag tonight and hanging out, not running around New York." End of conversation. You try to say something, he interrupts you, thumping your shoulder. "I'll text you! See ya, angel!"

• More passive about his protectiveness and isn't so outright about it like Leo, but on the inside, still doesn't fully understand why he feels that way (even though Donnie has explained over and over again)

Donatello:

• "You want to come out with us? Not gonna work, y/n, this is real stuff," he said amicably, raising his brow ridges. "There's been a three-point-four percent increase in crime rate just around the next four blocks, and that's with us kicking tail every other night. Statistically, you're liable to become a target and..."

• Donnie gets real irritable in spring and tends to avoid his brothers, argues with Leo about about their rooming situation bc he wants to be alone (except for with you)

• Sets up an entire cozy corner in his lab for you to chill in while he's gone and hopes you'll use it, even though he'd definitely rather be home and not topside at this time

• When you ask him to tag along on their patrol, he starts spouting off all the reasons you shouldn't and ultimately wins that debate

• Compromises by letting you man his tracking/observation station and communicating with them on their missions from the sewers

• He actually loves knowing you're on tap while he's out in the city and he can just radio in whenever he feels like it

• "See, isn't being our control center way better?"

Raphael:

• Raph already has a huge attitude problem, make that tenfold in spring.

• Gets waaaaay too overprotective at times, verges on bothersome levels of spazzing over what you do and where you go

• "You wanna go on patrol? With us? Just, out in New York City? With the Foot? Ahah, ain't happening, y/n. 'You said 'maybe' last time?' Well, I'm sayin' no, this time. You'll be bored?" He shrugs. "Watch TV or something. But you're not comin'."

• If you do somehow manage to go (highly unlikely), he's going to be grumpy and complain the whole time because he's secretly just worried and his hormones are out of whack

• Gets overly aggressive defending you from anything and probably stirs up more conflict over it tbh

• "It ended up fine that time, but don't do that again, ya hear?" He doesn't want to seem like he cares too much, so he flicks your head. (That man is head over heels for you)

[caws5749]

hiii i saw that you were looking for fluff requests so could u do something like natasha and reader both busy and not looking while walking through stark tower or soemthing and y/n obviously knows who natasha is has a bit of a crush on her and nat is like teasing her. later on they keep bumping into each other until nat is like “i’m done with the meet and greets” and asks reader out on a date. (nothing specific lol take and pick at if if you’d like, i just wanted to pitch in! :))

WARNING: THE BAREST HINT OF THIRSTING AND MENTION OF BREASTS IM SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF

A/N: you know that part in despicable me where she goes "IT'S SO FLUFFY" ?? yeah that came to mind reading this because ITS SO FLUFFY AND CUTE AND SUCH A GREAT IDEA THANK YOUUUUU <3

Consulting with the Avengers team was something you still couldn't believe you had the privilege to do. You had more been consulting with the brand itself versus the actual humans, but it still felt like a privilege.

You were a bit rushed leaving the compound, face glued to your phone looking at the plane tickets for the upcoming weekend. You were set to visit a friend but hadn't even bought your ticket yet. With one strap of your bag hanging off your shoulder, you rounded the corner and bumped right into someone...hard.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," you quickly got out, eyes finally moving up to meet lively green ones. Your jaw dropped a bit.

"Are you alright?" Natasha asked softly, eyes scanning your form for obvious injury. When she found none, she focused back on your face. She didn't even seem fazed by the collision.

"I'm fine, I'm so sorry, are you?" You questioned quickly, nearly slapping yourself in the face once you realized you asked an Avenger, hell, the Black Widow, if a bump into you had injured her.

"I'm alright, thank you. You seem like you're in a hurry, I won't hold you up."

All you could do was nod as she walked around you and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

++++++

Somehow the exact same thing happened again, though this time it wasn't your fault.

Natasha was exhausted, just returning from a mission that drained her both physically and mentally. While it was only just after five in the evening, she couldn't wait to go straight to bed after a warm shower. She exited the elevator as soon as the doors opened, walking right into you.

"Oof," you muttered in surprise.

"Are you- I know you," the red-head stated, her eyes scanning over your form for injuries as they did previously, even after just a simple bump. "I'm sorry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Natasha," you replied as you sent a reassuring smile. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards.

"And you are?"

You blushed. "I'm Y/N L/N. I consult for the Avengers."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'll see you around."

You entered the elevator, your legs feeling like lead. You turned just in time to watch her continue her walk down the hall. It just might have been the greatest sight you'd ever seen.

++++++

The universe must have been against you because it just seemed utterly impossible for you to not run into the widow.

It was just after midnight and you couldn't wait to leave. You were trying to finish up a big project and you knew having it done as quickly as possible would be a good thing, especially because you believed in the project so much. So you stayed in a conference room working later than normal. But you were exhausted and it was time to go home so you quickly tossed your things in your bag and headed out the door. You reached the door to the hallway and pushed it open with all of your might, eyes widening when a certain red-head had to jump out of the way to avoid it.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Again," you rushed. "Are you okay?"

"It didn't hit me, I'm okay," Natasha responded, before tilting her head. "What are you doing here so late?"

"Just trying to finish up a project. I hadn't really realized what time it was, to be honest."

She hummed thoughtfully. "You know, we do have guest rooms if you want to stay the night. You might not want to be out driving this late."

God, you knew it wasn't her protecting you or being worried about you because there was no way, but you couldn't help the flutter in your chest and the red that creeped into your cheeks.

The woman across from you smirked at your pink cheeks. She wasn't sure if you were like this with everyone or just her, but she loved it.

"Oh, I'm fine, but thank you. That's really nice of you... guys. That's really nice of you guys," you babbled, feeling the heat spread to your entire face.

"Just don't tell Tony I offered, he's picky," she laughed, before pulling the door open and walking through.

"Might want to check your temperature, Y/N, you're flushed like you have a fever," Nat yelled back, amusement in her tone.

No chance she hadn't noticed then. You were certain you couldn't make any bigger a fool of yourself.

++++++

The next time you ran into her, thankfully there were no close calls for injuries. Natasha had just finished her workout and was heading to the kitchen for a snack, where you had just finished a conversation with Sharon Carter, who had helped you on your latest project. She had told you to grab anything you wanted from the snack drawer, something that was somehow empty by the end of each day.

You searched the drawer for something that seemed appealing, jumping out of your skin from a smooth voice that came from behind you.

"Find anything good in there?"

"Natasha," you breathed as you whirled around, heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes widened as you took in her sweaty appearance, skin glistening, the top of her breasts just visible with the sports bra she had chosen.

"See anything you like?"

You flushed a deep red. "I, uh-"

"In the drawer, Y/N," she interrupted, eyes sparkling with humor.

"I- not really."

She walked up to you, the distance between the two of you now nearly nonexistent. You could see the dimension in her green eyes, the sweat bead slowly making its way down her right temple, the gentle pink to her full lips. You gulped, trying to steady your breathing when her arm reached around you, grazing your skin as she grabbed a snack from the drawer.

"I'm tired of these little meet and greets. Meet me here later at 8."

She gave you a wink and walked out.

You weren't quite sure what you'd done to deserve a date with that woman, but boy were you grateful.

[reareaotaku]

do you have any Benny Weir headcannons?

Yes! Right here: Benny Weir Headcanons But just for you, I'll do a one-shot! [Hate to be controversial, but I'm more of an Ethan girlie :( ]

Summary: Benny accidentally casts a spell on you and he has to figure out how to undo it Pairings: Benny Weir x Fem! Reader Tw/Cw: Magic

Benny's mouth nearly dropped when seeing a bunny in the place of where you had once been. Not only had he casted a spell on you, but it hadn't even been the right spell. He heard footsteps behind the door and he quickly picks you -bunny you- up and quickly hides you in his jacket.

Ethan opens the door, before looking at a very suspicious Benny. "What did you do, Benny?"

Benny makes a face of offence, "Uh! What do you mean? Why do you automatically think I did something wrong?"

Ethan gives Benny a knowing look and Benny sighs. He then pulls you out of his jack and Ethan gasps.

"What do you have a bunny!?"

"It's a funny story- Ow!"

You hit him with your little foot, angered by the face he wasn't hurrying up to try and get you back to normal.

"Here," He hands you to Ethan as he grabs his magic book.

Ethan struggles with you, not realizing it's well- You! "Are you going to answer my question... or?"

Benny whips around, an awkward smile on his face, "Well- there might have been.... well, a mishap."

"What do you mean?"

Benny doesn't answer and Ethan squeezes you tighter, causing you to hit him with your foot repeatedly, accidentally causing him to drop you. Benny screams, quick to pick you up and cuddle you close.

"Oh my baby- Are you okay?" He pets your back and you glare up at him- or at least you try to.

"Why are you freaking out? It's just a bunny."

"It's not just a bunny; It's Y/n."

"Y/n! What did you do to her?" Ethan swaps you back, holding you close and away from Benny.

"It was an accident. It wasn't supposed to hit her. PLUS," Benny turns back to Ethan, holding his book in one hand, "It wasn't even an animal spell."

"You have to fix her!"

"I know, I know!" He puts the book down and quickly scans through the book, "Ha! Here!" He points to some words in the book, before taking a step back and chanting the spell.

There's a heavy smoke and Benny lights up, but it quickly drops when seeing you were indeed no longer a bunny, but now a cat.

"You've got to be kidding me."

There's a knock at the door, causing them both to freeze and look towards the door.

"Y/n, dear? Are you okay in there?"

It was your mother. They both looked at each other, before looking at the door again. They had to figure out an excuse and they had to figure it out now.

"Um, yes, Mrs. L/n. We accidentally knocked over some textbooks," Benny lets out an awkward laugh, hoping she'd take the bait. Thankfully she did.

"Okay, well, be more careful."

"We will!"

They both listen as her footsteps echo away from the door, before they both grab the book and flip through it.

"You have to change her to normal!"

"I'm trying! I'm trying! It's not that easy!"

You watch as they fight with each other, the book swishing as they blow through it.

"Here!" Ethan points to another spell, "A human spell! A spell to turn an animal into a human."

Benny clicks, before shrugging and deciding to just go for it.

"If you mess this up, we go to your grandma."

"Yeah, probably a good idea." Just like before, Benny chants out the spell, before pointing at you and a bright light hits you and a heavy smoke covers your body.

You shake your head and look down at your hands and you hear them cheer. Though they quickly stop when seeing your face.

"Babe, you know I love you-"

"Don't you 'I love you babe' me!"

"Forgive and forget?" Benny laughs, as you corner him. "I love you?"

You can hear Ethan walking towards the door and whipping around to him, "Don't think you're getting away! When I'm done with him, you're getting it too."

[a-simple-imagine]

World Burn

synopsis: nobody messes with regina george

pairing: regina George x fem!reader

words: 1.5k+

A/N - inspired by the bikeriders. this is an au. if you would like to know more about the au please ask :)

WARNINGS - violence, threats and arson

the human body is so incredibly fragile. it's actually rather pathetic. as it crumbles so easily under a little pressure. bruises are so common. even paper can be dangerous. and it was never more evident as you were being helped up the stairs towards her office. part of you couldn't help but wonder how you got into this mess in the first place. the other? well, that worried about whether she would be mad at you.

the stairs feel so much longer when you struggle with each step. the twang of metal so much louder as your footfalls against the surface. it almost felt like a miracle when you reached the top. stumbling into her office, you're basically dragged to the couch against the far wall.

"What happened?" you can't tell how she's feeling. is that concern? anger? she's rather neutral

"We just found her like this,"

"saw a couple cars drive away though,"

they place you down carefully. the cool leather of the couch is almost soothing to the touch. your entire body feels numb. weightless even. burning. it hurts to breathe. every rise and fall of your chest sends a sharp jolt through your body. it's a moment before she comes over to you. tall and proud. staring down at you but her intimidating aura soon softens as she falls beside you. A gentle hand is placed below your chin to force you to look at her. "can you tell me who did this?" your eyes meet for a second before you pull away. a small shrug. "Baby," you feel stupid. powerless. like some pathetic little kid. you don't know what happened... well, not exactly. you were jumped by a couple of people when you got home. you don't know who they were or how they got in but you remember red hot pain wash over you afterwards. "please, talk to me," her voice so gentle you'd think it wasn't her. Regina was many things but gentle wasn't one of them. She treated you like you were her entire world but still a world she ruled. she was in charge.

"I'm sorry,"

"what for?" you don't really know. for not fighting back. for not doing something. anything at all. you just took it. you shrug again. Regina pulls you against her. it's supposed to be comforting but with the way your body feels it is sharp. you eventually relax into her. burying your face into her neck. "I'm gonna find who did this." said quietly. "you're safe. I promise." was she trying to convince you or herself?"

It's a couple of days and a lot of painkillers later you're being led down a seedy alleyway. you're mostly fine. lots of bruises, a few scratches and a broken rib but you've gotten over the initial shock. Regina is a step ahead with her hand in yours. Gretchen walks beside her, struggling to keep up with the blonde. those two were inseparable. or more so, Gretchen followed Regina around like a puppy. she basically existed to keep Regina happy. did everything she was told. her right-hand man. next to you was Karen. a little spacey. big heart. Regina had a whole bunch of others who followed her command too but Gretchen and Karen were the only ones who were always by her side. and you too now. kind of. the air is thick with heavy booze. it's far from your usual setting. Regina almost seemed out of place. it was rare she saw to matters herself. normally that was Gretchen's job if it was delicate or she'd delegate to somebody else. today was different apparently. you never came along on jobs either but again today was different. She pushes the door to an almost invisible bar; you'd hardly notice it's there unless you were looking. it's small in size, dingy and dark. mostly empty apart from the bartender and two gentlemen. one face down on a table while the other sipped from a whiskey glass at the bar. the two conscious individuals look your way. you didn't know them but it made you feel uneasy. you squeeze her hand but she either doesn't notice or doesn't care as you parade through the space towards the bartender. a short guy. he gives up the boss's location without hesitation. points to a room in the far corner. you have a bad feeling about this, or maybe the pills weren't sitting right. the blonde barges through the door without a care in the world. it's a small office. a woman sits behind a desk; a guy leaps up as you enter, another just stands beside her. guns raised but not fired. the blonde is entirely unfazed. just marches straight for the desk, dragging you along with her.

"It's okay," a delicate hand shoots up, a message to her men to stand down. "Regina George, to what do I owe this pleasure?" a slow glance up, she wears a playful smile as their eyes meet. She was expecting this encounter. planned it even. they both just stare at each other for a moment. this other woman is pretty up close but hardly stands out amongst the likes of Regina. you have never seen her before. most of the people in this business visited the club if not to party then to speak with Regina. She ran things around here. the head bitch many would say. the new girl has a twinkle in her eye. that fresh off the boat, proud of themselves look that was about to be utterly destroyed

"cute." uttered quietly, the blonde stood a little taller. "Gretchen," Gretchen Weiners comes scurrying along to appear beside you.

"This is Gretchen, say hi Gretchen."

"Hello," Gretchen smiles softly, an awkward little wave.

"and I assume you've already met-" Regina ushers you forward, a possessive hand on your shoulder. you offer a shy smile. "do you wanna tell me what happened?"

you look at Regina through the corner of your eye. Was she talking to you or them? "I don't know what you're talking about," they respond.

"that's okay. I already know," Regina insists with a smile. "I know about everything that goes on around here."

"what's your point?"

"name?"

"cady? Cady heron."

"well, Cady," Regina's voice is slow. "do you have something you would like to say to my girl here?"

Cady stands now as if trying to get on the same level as Regina. she's naturally smaller though so it doesn't quite work. "not that I can think of, so, if you could leave my office."

it's a long tense moment that feels like it may never end. "you're new around here so maybe you just don't know better," the blonde leans in closer now. "but if you ever so much as look at her in the wrong way ever again, I'll break every bone in this pathetic little body of yours, got it?"

"got it," Regina maintains her gaze before turning around with a flick of her long hair.

"is that it?" you ask, hurrying after her.

"you trust me right?"

"of course," you nod quickly.

"she won't come near you again. promise." you want to believe her but she hardly did anything. You have a broken rib and all she did was a little threat that Cady didn't even seem phased by? would that keep her away?

it's strangely beautiful if not a little menacing. the way the red and orange flickers against the night sky. the flames getting bigger. brighter. more powerful. so hot against the skin even as you just stare on. a pair of arms slip around your shoulders enveloping you in their warm embrace. Regina presses up against you from behind. "it's pretty, isn't it?"

you nod a little and she places the most delicate of kisses against your cheek. she'd set the bar on fire. well, not her directly. probably Gretchen or some other no-name follower. and now you were all just watching it burn. "aren't you scared?"

"I doubt Cady has the power for that,"

"no, I mean like- you set the place on fire. the police and firefighters are gonna show up at any minute but everyone is so calm,"a soft chuckle. one you can feel more than hear. Regina was amused, squeezing you a little tighter. "I don't want you to get in trouble,"

"oh baby," a term of endearment but it felt just a little patronising as a hand graced your cheek and moved your head to look at her. "you worry too much, everything will be fine."

"Are there people still inside?" you ask. Regina doesn't answer, just kisses you before letting go and turning back to the fire at hand. it's surprisingly tranquil. no police had come yet. no fire trucks. just the roaring fire. you wonder about Cady still inside. maybe she got out. maybe she was warned. maybe you're just better off not knowing. "it's so hot."

"yeah," a kiss to the back of your head. "I'm also getting hungry- should we get food?" you nod against her. She releases you from her grip and takes your hand instead.

"still feeling sore?"

"a little but I'm okay," you answer.

"you sure? we can head home?"

you shake your head. "let's go out."

Regina presents you with a smile. bright and warm like the fires raging behind her as she leads you off towards the car. you can't help but glance back and look at the flames that quite literally burn for you

[lanitalay]

When a High Lord is powerless.

summary: Eris x human reader, reader is sick, Eris is freaking out.

a/n: since i'm just getting over a sickness I wrote this to feel better about myself. enjoy

Warnings: none

wordcount: 1.1k

Eris pulled at his hair, helpless at the scene before him.

You were sick. The night before you told him it was a “common cold.” 

“It’s a human thing I guess, since you ethereal fae don’t ever get the sniffles.” 

He had never been around anyone ill. Fae got injured. Accelerated healing made it so only deadly blows would do any real harm. But it was never anything invisible that would wound, it was magic, blades, fire. Yesterday you had been perfect. Eris listed the things he saw you do in his mind: breakfast, ride through the groves, read, play a game of chess… all the usual things that kept you busy. 

“High Lord, I beg, don’t touch the High Lady. She has a very high fever and we must lower her temperature.” The words were a blow to his gut. A contradiction to the very instincts that urged him forward, closer to you. 

“High Lord, please.” The healer looked at him with wide eyes. He could not find malice in them, only worry to match his own. “What can I do?” 

The healer sighed and wiped her brow. “If you could find ice, it would help the fever.” 

He nodded, exiting the room at once. In all his years his magic, his fire had never been the cause of his self loathing. It was the fire that kept him going in the dark days when Beron was alive. The same fire that kept you warm in the cold Autumn nights when you first arrived was now aggravating the monster that ravaged your body. 

He winnowed to the border with Winter as soon as he stepped out of your chambers. Scooping chunks of ice and snow and praying to whatever gods might hear him that it would be enough. That they might spare you. 

Would a god implore him in a bargain? Your health for his magic. If it would bring you harm when you needed help he would be rid of it entirely. Or perhaps his immortality. There’s no him without you, not anymore. He might trade his lifespan for a human one. You’ve said that you have sixty years if you’re lucky. That would be enough… what god might- “Oh thank the Cauldron you found some! The ice in the kitchens ran out.” The healer yanks the bag from him and begins to coat your body in the frigid substance. You moan, discomfort rousing you from sleep. 

“Eris… where is he-”

“I’m right here, love.” Your hand reaches for his, but the healers instructions were clear. Heat would worsen your condition and he was a walking furnace. “I’m right here, the healers say the cold will help with the fever.”

“I don’t- I don’t like this Eris, I’m cold. Hold me, please…” He can’t stand it. The paleness of your skin, the heaviness in your eyes and the dark circles beneath. Your teeth are chattering. He steps closer. “High Lord! She is merely uncomfortable, the ice is helping. Please try to remain calm.”

He fumes. “Then make her comfortable! She’s your High Lady! If harm comes her way I will not hesitate-”

“Don’t yell, my darling. I’m alright… just a bit cold is all.” Your voice is barely a whisper as it slaps him across the face.

“I apologize, I’m worried about my mate.”

The healer huffs in acknowledgement and returns to her ministrations. “It’s just a cold Eris, I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Back in the Human Lands my mother would make me broth and I’d be back to normal.” 

“What kind of broth?” 

Then he was in the kitchen. No cooks were on duty in the middle of the night so he followed a recipe from a book, which he ignored a soon as he foud a medicinal journal. He boiled anything he could find with healing properties to make an unappetizing broth but at the very least it would help your body fight. 

“This smells terrible.”

“Humor me.” You gag as you get another whiff but manage to down a few sips. The lukewarm liquid soothes your throat so, against your tastebuds screaming otherwise, you sigh in relief. “Is that better?” 

You nod and give him a quarter of a smile. 

“Is there nothing else I can do?” 

“You can brush my hair.” Eris looks towards the healer for her approval. “So long as you only touch her with a brush, it should be fine, High Lord.”

He  massages your scalp with the soft bristles of the brush andthen proceeds to rid your hair of the tangles being in bed had caused. If he was being honest, it looked like a bird’s nest. He’s as gentle as he can, and a loud snore makes his heart jump to his throat. You’d fallen asleep again. 

“Her fever is better, I will return by sunrise to check again. If anything happens please do not hesitate to call, High Lord.” 

“Thank you, Willa.” She nods and pats him on the shoulder. “She’ll be fine, my Lord.”

It’s morning when Eris wakes up in the chair beside your bed. A sneeze that startled both of you was his good morning. “I need a handkerchief.” You request while covering your nose and mouth with your hands. Eris digs into his pocket and gives you his. “Don’t look at me while do this, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” 

You roll your eyes and just urge him to “look away!” He does and what follows in a wet, squelching sound he cannot imagine is coming from the beautiful creature on the bed. “All done,” you say in a defeated tone. The energy you had gathered from sleep had been wiped out by a sneeze and a blow of the nose. 

“How are you feeling?” It takes you a while to reply as you cuddle up closer to the pillows substituting Eris’ body. “A bit better, I suppose.” 

“You said you’d be back to normal today.” What if you had taken a turn for the worse? Had the fever been too much?

“It’s not an exact science, my love. But my throat doesn’t hurt anymore, so I am better.” 

  “You’ll be the death of me I swear.” You reach your hand out to his. He hesitates. 

“I don’t have a fever anymore, hold my hand.” He has no power agaisnt his mate and has been craving your touch for hours. Your hand is icy in his, but its just as soft as he remembers it. “See, I’m right here, not going anywhere yet.” 

Yet. Because you had your days numbered, illness or not. He would never be ready to part. Never wants to face eternity with out you. So he reaches out to the gods again, hoping at least one would take up his bargain.

[bumblesimagines]

Jordan Li

you didn't even give me a chance to talk to you the next morning.

i haven't been with anyone since.

can we just act like it never happened and carry on like normal?

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers, F!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Gen V warnings (none), uhhhhhh literally no warnings?, jordan being vulenrable, jordan being shit at talking about feelings pls get a therapist bby

After stuffing her notebook and textbook into her backpack, (Y/N) hooked her fingers around the strap and stood up from her seat, slinging the backpack over her shoulder and following her classmates as they shuffled out of the classroom. They piled into the slowly growing crowded hallway, bumping and brushing against each other as everyone made their way to their next class before the late bell could ring. (Y/N) managed to squeeze into a less crowded hallway, releasing a soft huff of air. 

"(Y/N), hey! Wait up!" She glanced back and spotted Jordan stepping out of the crowd with much less difficulty, the students parting as if Jordan were Moses. It was silly, in her opinion, how much others worshipped those in the Top Ten like they were royalty or gods walking the Earth. Half of the supes making up the list still needed help with simple subjects taught in normal human schools. 

"What's up, Li?" (Y/N) arched a brow when the supe caught up with her. "Is it about the project Brink gave me? I'm almost done with it, I swear. It needs a little tweaking but I'll be turning it in tomorrow." 

"No, no, it's not about that." Jordan dismissed, their fingers raking through their hair and brushing back black strands that'd slipped out of the slick-back hairstyle. (Y/N) hummed and looked forward again, checking the time on the clock ticking at the end of the hall and quickening her step. "It's, uhm.. I wanted to talk to you about last Friday? I know you were out of town over the weekend so I thought I'd catch up with you today."

Her brows furrowed. "Catch up about what exactly?" She asked, sparing them a glance before turning a sharp corner into a different hall. Her mind shuffled through the events of the past days until she got to Friday, trying to think back on what she did that day that would require a discussion with Jordan Li of all people. Sure, at the end of the day she'd hooked up with them, but that hardly needed a play-by-play chat. 

"Last... Friday?" Jordan blinked at her, their own brows dipping. "You didn't even give me a chance to talk to you the next morning. I mean, I've never seen that side of you, you know? I- I always thought you were like, a nerd or something. You're always so quiet and distant." 

"Riiight," (Y/N) drawled, her eyes squinting slightly at them. "You don't know me, Jordan. Of course, you didn't expect that from me, a complete and utter stranger. We literally only talk when Brink wants to set up a meeting about grades. Besides, there's nothing to talk about. You answered some questions, we had a beer or two, we had sex, and that's it."

"Yeah, but, it's never been like that for me before and I know you've never slept with someone like me."

(Y/N) snorted. "I've slept with plenty of douchebags, Jordan, but yes, you're right. I've never been with someone who can change their body. It was new and fun but there's really nothing to talk about." 

"I haven't been with anyone since."

"It's been two days since Friday."

"You know what I'm trying to say," Jordan groaned rather dramatically, sidestepping into her way and looking surprisingly nervous for the typical stone-faced, scowl-wearing, asshole everyone knew them as. (Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek and conjured up a few excuses as to how she could possibly be late to her next class when it was so close to the last one. "I've never been with someone who wanted to sleep with me like that, alright? No one has ever asked me if I wanted to change midway through before. It's always they want to sleep with a just a dude or just a chick, never both. I... I don't know. It was new to me too." 

"So, we both tried something new that night. Great. I'm happy you got to experience that, and I'm sure you'll now feel comfortable asking your army of booty calls if they want to try it too. Now, can we just act like it never happened and carry on like normal? You can go back to being Brink's assistant and I'll go back to being the nightmare student whose questions and emails you have to answer every day." (Y/N) raised her hand to pat them on the shoulder and stepped around them, wincing when the late bell rang through the hallway. Jordan caught her arm, their jaw clenched and eyes downcast.

"I don't want to act like it never happened," Jordan admitted quietly, a soft tone she'd never heard them use before. "And I don't want things to go back to the way they were either."

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 6) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.5k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Visit to an Obstetrician; Medical Inaccuracies Just in Case; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake go to your appointment together. And then you sit down to tell Maverick the news.

Series Master List

Master List

Jake had never quite felt so far out of his depth than when he was sitting alone in a gynecological office. 

You had gone back with the medical assistant, who told him that he was supposed to wait in the waiting room until someone came and got him. And so, Jake was just sitting there, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. He had awkwardly made eye contact with a girl who was in college, who stared at him like he was an invader, and Jake hadn't dared to pick his head up since.

A little squeal tore his eyes from his phone and over to where the only other man in the room was sitting. The man was probably around Jake's age, mid-thirties, but unlike Jake, he looked completely at ease in his seat.

Maybe that had something to do with the little girl in his arms.  

“Where’s Mommy?” the girl asked her dad. 

“She’s talking with the doctor about your little brother. You’ll see her in a little bit.”

“Okay,” the girl returned, pressing her hand against her dad’s face, causing him to chuckle and grab her hand, pressing a kiss to it before dropping it again. “Can we get blueberries?”

“You want blueberries?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t have any on me, sweetie, but you can have some when we get home, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, sending her dad a cheek-scrunching smile. 

“Jake?” a voice called, making Jake realize that he had been staring. 

Turning to see the medical assistant from earlier standing at the door, he quickly stood up. Jake followed her back through the halls to the room where you were seated on an exam table. You smiled at Jake as he walked over to your side. 

“Hey,” you greeted him as he sat down. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Jake assured you, nodding slowly. "My first time at a gynecologist. Just a little nervous, that's all."

"I promise to not poke and prod you," your doctor joke, turning to Jake. "I'm Dr. Jennings. It's nice to meet you."

"You as well," Jake returned politely.

"Alright, now let's get to what you two came here for," Dr. Jennings replied, standing up with a kind smile.

You shifted the patient gown and Dr. Jennings covered your small bump in a clear gel. You shifted a bit and glanced over at Jake, who seemed to still look like a fish out of water. Which, for a large man who usually radiated confidence, was a rare sight to see.

"Let's take a look now," Dr. Jennings stated, causing you and Jake to turn to the monitor.

There were a lot of random shapes and movement on the screen and Jake half-wondered if he was in some kind of delusion that he was going to wake up from. But then the image on the screen shifted and Jake didn't need your hand suddenly reaching out for him to tell him what he was seeing on the screen. Jake took your hand in his own, subconsciously holding his breath for a moment.

“And here’s your baby.”

Jake wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting to see when he walked in there. He wasn’t exactly a scholar on pregnancy. It was supposed to just look like a little ball, right? He thought so. But that image in front of him, there was a clearly defined head. The rest of it wasn’t too clear, but that was definitely a baby. A baby human. Your baby human. His baby human. Your shared baby human.

"Everything looks normal," Dr. Jennings reported, moving the wand around a bit.

You turned to Jake with a relieved smile, and he shot you one back, trying to not let his nerves show. You turned back to the monitor as Dr. Jennings pressed a few buttons.

“And here’s the heartbeat.” 

She flipped a switch and suddenly the distinct sound of a heartbeat, though one that was much faster than Jake was expecting, echoed around the room. Jake looked up, a shocked expression on his face because it was one thing to just see the baby, but to hear them just made it all the more real.

"Is it supposed to be that fast?" Jake asked, turning to Dr. Jennings, who smiled in return.

"Yes, your baby's heartbeat is perfectly normal. And very strong. You might have a little fighter on your hands."

"Wouldn't surprise me," you mused, staring at the screen while you listened to your child's heartbeat.

Jake turned away from Dr. Jennings and took a moment to stare at you as you took in the moment. You had been nervous when he met you in the parking lot with your Notes app pulled up to your list of questions for your doctor. But whatever happened before Jake showed up must have settled you and now, with your baby moving right in front of you and their heartbeat echoing in their ears.

And you, well, you looked like you were glowing.

And even though he heard that the term “glowing” wasn’t accurate to describe a pregnant woman, he couldn’t come up with a better one. You were absolutely, positively glowing.

“So, I would put you at about fourteen weeks,” the obstetrician explained to you, causing you to turn away from the monitor. “I’m just going to take some measurements, but please feel free to ask any questions that you have.” 

“So, everything looks healthy and happy?” you immediately asked, sitting up a bit. 

“We’re still waiting on your blood results, but everything else appears to be normal. The heart rate is good. Very strong. They seem to be measuring well. I don’t have a clear look at any signs of gender yet—they seem to not want to cooperate—but how did you want me to mark the file? Did you want to wait, or did you want to know as soon as possible?” 

Jake turned to you immediately as you slowly moved your head to meet his gaze. The two of you had a silent staring contest. You didn't even think that it was going to be an option to find out the gender at this appointment. You had mentioned it in passing, but Jake never commented on it.

“It’s your call,” Jake stated, nodding slowly. “I’m fine either way.” 

You nodded slowly before turning back to the obstetrician, who was typing away at your chart. After a moment of thought and another glance over at Jake, you made your decision.

“We’ll wait, please. Maybe for the birth or maybe at a later date,” you replied softly.

“Well, feel free to tell me at every appointment either way. Or you can call the office too, if you change your mind,” the obstetrician assured you with a supportive smile. “And did you want any photos of the ultrasound from today?”

“Please,” you answered immediately.

“How many copies?”

“Two, please,” you replied, glancing over at Jake. 

Dr. Jennings talked with you about your diet and exercise and your future appointments before she excused herself. Sitting up, you grabbed some paper towels from the patient cart and cleaned yourself up while Jake sat there a bit awkwardly. You got redressed, with Jake averting his eyes respectfully, before the two of you headed out of the examination room together.

“How are you feeling?” Jake asked softly, causing you to look at him.

“Well, it’s nice to know a little bit now,” you returned as Jake held the door open for you. “Not just a guessing game about if everything looks okay or not.” 

You made your way over to the patient window to make your next appointment and sign a few things. Jake lingered by the door, waiting patiently for you, when the father and daughter that he saw earlier in the waiting room walked past with a very pregnant woman. The three of them were all beaming with happiness that Jake couldn’t help but stare after them, wondering if you and him and your little baby would look like that one day--happy.

“Jake,” you called, causing him to snap his head around again. 

You smiled softly and held out a small square photo, which he took very carefully into his own grip. Holding the small photo in his hand, Jake just stood there and stared up at the little, tiny human that was half him and half you that was so impossibly small that he was afraid of even looking at the image for too long for fear of risking the baby's safety. 

“You okay?” you asked, finally bringing Jake out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured you, picking his head up. “And you?”

“Better than I was a week ago,” you returned, giving him that smile that he could only describe as ‘glowing’ once again. “Are you sure that you’re good? You’ve been really spacey lately.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Jake promised you as the two of you walked out of the office. "I'm fine."

The two of you stepped out into the warm San Diego air as Jake carefully held the ultrasound photo in his hand. But staring down at the photo one more time, Jake turned to you with a more serious expression. 

“Are you still planning on telling Maverick soon?”

“I told him to come over to my place on Friday,” you explained, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m already into my second trimester. It’ll only get harder to hide and I would rather be able to tell everyone on my terms. Our terms.” 

“It’s your call,” Jake repeated, glancing around the parking lot as you came to a stop beside your car. “Your family, your rules.” 

“Thank you,” you returned, fiddling with your fingers. “Why don’t you come over around five? I told Maverick six, so that should give us some time to prepare and plan and take some breaths. He usually shows up late, anyways.” 

“I’ll see you Friday, then,” Jake replied, causing you to nod slowly. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you returned, offering him another glowing smile. “Bye, Jake.” 

Jake watched you climb into your car before turning for his truck. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, you pulled out of the parking lot, heading back to your apartment. He watched you go before looking down at the ultrasound photo once again.

 Letting out a breath, he pressed his head back against the headrest before carefully placing the photo on the passenger’s seat. Starting his truck, Jake pulled out into the afternoon sun, trying to not get lost in his thoughts. For the thousandth time since he found out that he was going to be a father. 

~~~~~

You rushed around your apartment, cleaning and finishing up with the cooking. Jake came over to help you set up about an hour ago, but after you rearranged everything that he already did, Jake just decided to stay out of your way. You were very clearly on the edge of a mental breakdown, and he didn’t want to risk pushing you over the edge before Maverick even got there. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want to sit down for a bit?” Jake asked as you checked on the food cooking in the oven. “You’re going to put yourself out.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, pulling the tray out of the oven. “Just a little nervous, that's all.”

Wiping your hands on a towel, you looked up when there was a knock at the door. Turning to Jake, you motioned for him to go and hide in your bedroom for a little bit. Adjusting your dress, which you bought purely because the pattern hid your figure very weel, you walked over to your front door. You took a final deep breath to calm yourself down before pulling the door open, revealing Maverick and Penny.

“Hey, Mav, Penny. Thanks for coming.”

“I’m not going to say ‘no’ to a home cooked meal,” Maverick replied, pulling you in for a hug in greeting. You hugged him back tighter than usual, which caused Maverick to pause. Returning the squeeze, he asked, “You alright, honey?”

 “Yeah, of course,” you returned softly, peeling yourself away from him. “Come on in. Dinner’s all done.”

Maverick shared a look with Penny, who shrugged in response, before walking into your apartment. He moved towards the dining area and paused when he spotted four plates set out on the table. Penny moved to take her seat, but Maverick stayed standing, staring down the extra plate suspiciously. 

“Are Rooster or Emma joining us?”

“Uh, no,” you replied, carrying over some food to the table. “I actually have some news, Mav.”

“A boyfriend?” Maverick assumed, causing you to pause before nodding slowly. 

You and Jake hadn’t really put a label on your relationship. Not even after you found out about the baby. But even though you weren’t together romantically right now, he was definitely something. And honestly, he was already more committed than any of your previous boyfriends or flings.

“Well, where is he then?”

A set of slow footsteps caused Maverick to turn his head in time to see Jake walking towards him. Jake lacked his usual confidence, but he wasn’t exactly cowering to Maverick's gaze, even if he was sweating through his shirt a bit. A splash of surprise flashed across Maverick's expression before he steeled it once again.

“Sir,” Jake decided on, causing Maverick to raise an eyebrow. 

“Hangman,” Maverick returned evenly. He glanced between the two of you before finally turning to you. “So, how long has this been going on for?”

“A few months.”

“Alright,” Maverick responded calmly, moving to take his seat. He sat down beside Penny, shared a look with her, before turning to you again. “You still have beer here?”

Penny lightly smacked the back of her hand against Maverick’s chest, but Jake moved to collect a beer for Maverick. If only to have an excuse to leave the awkwardness for a moment. The four of you slowly sat down for dinner and Jake chose to forgo an alcoholic drink for himself to make your decision to not drink less obvious. Dinner was passed around as an awkward silence settled in the room.

“So, Hangman,” Maverick started off with, “what are your intentions with my goddaughter?”

“Mav. This isn't 1986."

"It's a fair question," Maverick defended himself.

“Well, I do see a future with her if that’s what you’re asking,” Jake ventured, being very careful with his words. 

“You’re serious about this relationship?”

“Very much so.”

You glanced nervously between Jake and Maverick as Maverick seemed to stare Jake down for a moment. Mav reached for his beer, took a sip, and then turned back to his plate, as if it was a casual conversation. 

“Well, I will not sugarcoat my opinion that I think dating one of your brother’s teammates is not a good idea,” Maverick told you, causing you to wince. “It can get complicated quickly and even more messy.”

“We know, Mav,” you replied quietly. 

“And quite honestly Hangman, you were not my first choice.”

“I figured,” Hangman stated, nodding slowly. 

“You weren’t even on the list.”

“Mav,” you interjected to Jake’s defense. "You don't have to be rude to him about it."

“That being said,” Maverick replied, getting the conversation back on track, “if you’re happy, that’s all that I care about.”

“Yeah, of course I am,” you responded defensively.

Maverick looked up from his plate, staring you down with a concerned expression. Looking away from him, you smoothed your hands down your thighs, trying to not let your nerves show. Apparently, your words weren't convincing enough for Maverick.  

“Are you?” he repeated softly. 

“I have something else to tell you, Mav,” you admitted after a moment, voice barely above a whisper. 

Maverick glanced suspiciously and with an underlying threatening glare over at Jake before turning back to you for your explanation. You summoned your courage and pushed down your anxiety before finally letting out your secret. 

 “I’m pregnant.”

Maverick immediately dropped his fork onto his plate, causing a loud clattering noise to echo around your apartment. You winced at the noise and sunk a bit farther in your seat. Jake reached over and grabbed your hand under the table, offering you a reassuring squeeze, but you were frozen, staring at Maverick as you waited for the bomb to drop right on top of your dinner table. 

Penny turned to Maverick, resting her hand on his arm to try and ground him. He himself looked like he was having a momentary stroke at the news that you were pregnant. With Hangman's baby because you just had to give him a heart attack while he was already having a stroke.

Maverick’s first emotion was fear. 

Fear that it wasn’t what you wanted or that it would somehow lead to a situation that you would regret later on. One that he could have helped prevent in the first place, if he had been paying attention. Fear that something could go wrong or would go wrong and there wouldn’t be anything that he could do to help you. Carole had relatively easy pregnancies, but that didn't mean you would. Fear that you weren’t prepared for this because this baby was clearly unexpected and fear that you wouldn't be prepared when it finally came time for the baby to be born.

 And Maverick’s second emotion was anger. 

How could you be so reckless? He had Penny and Sarah give you the talk. He took you to the doctor to get you on birth control when you were seventeen at your request. Did you just forget to take the pill? Did condoms suddenly go off the shelves? It wasn’t like you were a dumb teenager anymore. And of all the guys to knock you up, it had to be Hangman? Really? Hangman?

Maverick was also ready to launch over the table at the dumb, reckless pilot who just potentially ruined your life and certainly changed it forever. Because Hangman wasn’t a dumb teenager either. He knew what a condom was, and he should have used one. He should have carried his weight with that. And if Hangman even thought about running out on you and the baby, Maverick would set him straight. Personally. 

But when Maverick finally locked eyes with you again, his anger broke in an instant. 

He saw your fear. He saw your concern. There was nothing that he could say in that moment that you hadn’t already anticipated and stressed yourself out about. And him yelling at you and threatening Jake wasn’t going to solve the problem. It wasn’t going to solve anything. It was just going to make it worse.

Letting out a breath to release what was left of his anger, Maverick turned back to you with a calmer expression. Penny gave his arm a squeeze, feeling him calm down with time. 

“You’re healthy? Both you and the baby?” he stared off with.

“Yeah, we’re healthy,” you assured Mav, nodding slowly to confirm. 

“And you made this decision on your own? No one forced you to make this decision, right?” Maverick asked you seriously.

“Well, we didn’t plan this,” you replied, sharing a look with Jake, “but yes, I made this decision and Jake’s supportive of my decision, so we’re in this together now.”

“And you’re happy?” Maverick questioned you. 

“Once it’s all out in the open, I will be,” you replied honestly. "It's just a lot of anticipatory stress right now."

“Bradley doesn’t know?”

“No,” you stated softly. 

“Are you planning on telling him soon?”

“I was thinking hopefully this weekend or next weekend. I’m already farther along than I was expecting. I won’t be able to hide this news for too much longer.”

“How far along are you?”

“Fourteen weeks.”

“So, you’ve been to the doctor?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have an ultrasound photo?”

Nodding slowly, you stood up from the table and tried to not let out a sob in relief. You moved to grab the ultrasound photo that you hid in your room, leaving Hangman alone with Maverick and Penny for the first time since you broke the news. Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Maverick raised a hand to stop him. 

“We will have a separate conversation later, Lieutenant," Maverick stated, quiet enough that you didn't hear him.

“Pete,” Penny sighed, turning to him. “He’s here and involved. It’s not like he’s a deadbeat.”

“Later,” Maverick repeated as you returned from your bedroom. 

You walked around the table and handed the ultrasound photo to Maverick, who took it carefully. You stood beside him, nervously fiddling with your fingers. There was still a chance that Maverick would show how upset he was, so you were still a little on edge. Maverick stared down at the photo, the reality of the situation hitting him all over again, before turning back to you. 

“Is it a boy or girl?”

“We don’t know yet. We wanted to wait.”

“Well, either way they’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, they are,” you replied, your shoulders shaking as tears slowly slipped out of your eyes. 

“Hey,” Maverick called softly, handing the photo to Penny before standing up and pulling you into a supportive hug. Tucking your head under his chin like he did when you were a little girl, Maverick assured you, “Hey, everything will be okay.”

“I was just so worried you’d be so pissed and disappointed in me,” you choked out, burying your face into Maverick’s shoulder. “That you’d tell me I was making the worst mistake of my life.”

“You know that there's nothing that would stop me from being there for you, right? You know that, right?”

“I know, Mav. I was just scared.”

“You shouldn’t stress yourself out over me. I’m always going to be here to support you.”

“Thanks, Mav.”

After you and Penny shared a tight hug as well, you made your way back to Jake’s side of the table and sat down. You wiped the lingering tears from your cheeks and shot Jake a small smile before turning back to Maverick and Penny.  

“So, have you discussed anything yet about the future? With each other?” Maverick asked, folding his hands in front of him.

“Like what?”

“Like what is your living situation going to look like?” Maverick started off with. “Are you both moving into Jake’s apartment? Are you getting a new place together?”

“Why didn’t you mention my apartment?” you asked, confused.

“Well, it’s not exactly a nice building for kids. And you don’t have a tub for the baby. And you know how I feel about your landlord."

“And your sink still leaks,” Jake added, causing you to shoot him a look. "And the elevator's broken half the time."

“And did the landlord ever fix that faulty wiring?” Maverick asked, causing you to narrow your eyes.

"So, you'll agree with him when it's convenient for you?" you questioned Maverick.

“My house is always open,” Maverick suggested, avoiding the question. You sighed and stared at him with an exasperated expression. “Bradley and Emma are moving out in two weeks and the spare bedroom can be all yours. And there’s room for Jake on the pullout couch in the living room.”

“I think what Pete is trying to say,” Penny cut in, shooting Maverick a look, “is that babies take up a lot of space and you don’t want to be worrying about home improvement projects while you have a newborn at home.”

“What about finances? Are you creating a joint account? Are you splitting it up piece by piece?" Maverick suggested, moving on down his list. "Are you getting married?”

“Mav,” you hissed, feeling some heat crawl up your neck at his question. "No, we're not getting married."

Maverick paused, tapping his fingers on the top of the table for a moment. He had an unreadable expression on his face, and it only made you concerned. Looking between the two of you, he turned first to Hangman. 

“What is she allergic to?” Maverick asked him. 

“Uh . . .” Jake stumbled a bit, “. . . shellfish?”

“Pollen,” Maverick corrected Jake before turning to you. “When’s his birthday?”

“October 27th?”

“21st,” Jake mumbled under his breath, causing you to wince. 

“What’s her blood type?” Jake didn’t answer immediately and looked a bit like a fish out of water, so Maverick turned straight back to you, “What’s his hometown?”

“Austin, Texas," you answered confidently.

“I was born in Austin but technically I grew up outside of it,” Jake replied, causing you to sigh. 

“Are you two even dating?” Maverick asked, looking between the two of you. "Do you even like each other?"

“Yes,” you both replied, causing Maverick to sigh and hold his head in his hands for a moment. 

“You two need to take some time and get to actually know one another. Forget about everyone else in this equation. If the two of you aren't strong, the whole thing falls apart.”

Picking his head up again, Maverick turned to Jake first.

“You need to know her medical information like the back of your hand. If something happens and she can’t advocate for herself, you need to be ready to give that information.”

Maverick turned to you next while Jake squirmed beside you.

“And you need to have full trust in him if you’re going to raise a kid together. If he's going to be in the delivery room with you. And how are you supposed to trust him if you don’t even know him?” Maverick leaned back in his seat and looked between the two of you, who both appeared like scolded children, before letting out a breath. Thinking over his words carefully, Maverick leaned forward a bit. 

“All that said, I will help you out however I can. But you two need to put in the work yourselves. This isn’t about you anymore. This is about your child. And the two of you need to start working together and having difficult conversations."

You and Jake slowly picked up your heads and shared a look before turning back to Maverick and nodding slowly. 

"And you need to tell your brother," Maverick told you, "becauase it's going to be worse if he finds out from anyone else."

"I know, Mav. I know."

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[starlightandfairies]

Ok ok I really love you! That's the last request hahaha I don't wanna annoy you ❤️ I had this somehow cute idea where you've fallen in love with him but he doesn't know and one time you get a little drunk with the girls, later deciding to grab a taxi to the Mikaelson house. Klaus is the one letting you in but Elijah already felt your presence and tries to keep you safe around Klaus, or as you start playing with their swords and stuff. Klaus watches with amusement at his brother taking care of a human girl and makes a comment like "better keep her before I do", and that wakes something in Elijah that he takes you to his room, just to keep you safe. You end up cuddled on top of him, admitting your love to him before falling asleep. He also realizes that he has feelings for you, but he decides to tell you properly in the morning when you wake up 😊😙

Description: A drunken reader leads to playful chaos between the Mikaelson brothers and feelings being revealed.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, drunkness, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you so again for requesting! No! You're not annoying me! I'm really enjoying getting requests so don't feel bad! I hope you also enjoy this one!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1,156

First Person's POV

Girls' night out was amazing, I haven't had a night like this in ages, away from all the drama and finally able to just relax with the girls and just be us. I knew I was getting tipsy, I could feel my giggles becoming more and more prominent than normal. The girls were going home, so I decided to head towards the Mikaelson house, I stood on the street hailing a taxi and stumbled into the vehicle once it arrived. I asked to be taken to the address, the walk to the porch of the Mikaelson resident seemed like an incredible challenge, I'm sure that to an outsider I just looked like a fawn learning to walk but I felt as if I was climbing Mount Everest. 

I giggled to myself as I fell against the door, I sucked in a breath, trying to pull myself together as I knocked waiting for someone to answer. I was surprised when it was Niklaus, I waved almost childishly, smiling brightly at the Hybrid who clearly seemed amused by my current state.

In all honesty, I have no clue how I ended up sword-fighting with Niklaus, however, somehow this is where we ended up. Sword fighting in the parlour. I highly recommend it, however, do take care. I grinned brightly seeing Elijah walking forward with his usual look of concern plastered on his face, however, once he was at my side he smiled. 

"Good evening, Y/n, I didn't realise you'd be joining us." 

"Spur of the moment type thing." I turned my attention back to Niklaus, continuing our little sword fight, I jumped as Elijah used his speed to appear in front of me, I grinned excitedly but quickly pouted as he took the sword off of me. 

"How about instead you sit with me, and tell me all about your night?" The pout faded away, I nodded in agreement, sitting on the sofa with him and instantly began rambling on about every little detail that went on tonight. I'm sure I shared details I wouldn't typically share in normal conversation, my filter was non-existent and oh, how I know that if I could watch myself right I would wish for it badly. 

"Am I okay to take my shoes off?" I questioned glancing down to the hells that were now becoming painful and unwanted. Elijah nodded, though, after watching my struggle he lightly took my hands and proceeded to continue to charm me with his gorgeous smile that drew me in the first time I saw him. 

"May I help you?" I nodded, frustrated with my inability to undo the damn straps on my shoes, Elijah kindly took my shoes off for me and rested them to the side. The vampire stared at me for a good minute, assessing my needs and whatever else that was needed to be assessed. 

"I'll be right back, I'll get you some water." I threw my arms around him, giggling happily, thanking him and plopped back into the couch. I waited patiently for both vampires to return, I fiddled with my hands, staring at everything in the room and running my finger over my lips making odd sounds just for the sake of it. 

Elijah's POV 

I began pouring some water, and getting some things prepared for Y/n knowing that in the morning the hangover would come, I wanted her to be okay and wanted her to be safe. So I was quite glad that Niklaus chose to follow instead of causing more havoc with Y/n. 

"You know, brother, you better sweep her up before I do." His smirk and words struck a chord. He knew of my feelings, Niklaus knew that I would do anything for her and knew that he would follow through on his words. I made my way back to the living room, stopping in my tracks seeing her laying upside down on the couch, he head on the floor and her legs dangling over the backrest of the sofa. 

I bit back the smile dying to show, I sat beside her, smiling as she waved happily and awkwardly twisted and turned trying to get back into an upright position. I took her hands, smiling as she rested her head on my shoulder and that gorgeous smile just permanetly stuck on her lips. 

"Come with me, will you, please?" Y/n nodded, taking my hand and following me to my room. I handed her the glass of water, watching as she plopped onto my bed finishing the glass of water within a gulp and began curling up underneath the blankets. 

'Would you lay with me, please? I couldn't refuse, I nodded and kicked off my shoes and rested besides her. I wrapped my arms around her as she began to lay upon me, her eyes were fluttering open and shut her words escaping in a mumble. 

"I love you, Elijah. I really love you. Like a lot. Super a lot." Before I could even deny anything, I could feel her swiftly fall asleep, I didn't want to disturb her, I didn't want this moment to end. I knew that in this moment I wanted to confess my feelings for her, so I thought it would be best to do so in the morning. 

First Person's POV 

As the light shined into the room, I knew my headache would be a bitch to deal with, I pushed myself up into a sitting positon in the boat. I stretched briefly, jumping slightly to see Elijah walking into the room with a glass of water and a packet of painkillers. 

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." I whispered, sipping the water and taling the painkillers. Elijah sat on the bed besides me, I rested my head on his shoulder and began sharing my apology. 

"I'm so sorry, was I a complete mess?" 

"No, not at all." 

"You're a liar." I whispered. 

"You were just really giggly and silly. You told me you loved me- I don't know how much of that was true..." 

"That was true, I meant that." I confirmed, seeing there was no point in denying the fact that I loved him. Elijah sat in silence for a good moment, I could feeel my heart halt for a second fearing that his reaction cold be poor and that he would react in a way that ruin our friendship. 

"I love you too." He whispered, his eyes focused on me, I glanced to him surprised and shocked about the outcome of the confession. I smiled pushing myself up and grabbed ahold of his face. Looking to see if the noble vampire was lying to me, he grabbed my hands, his look gentle and comforting. I knew just then that it wasn't a lie and that this was all true. 

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Who Wears Short Shorts?

Week #1 Prompt: Short Shorts | Word Count: 1469 | Rating: M | Pairing: Steddie | Characters: Eddie, Steve, Robin | CW: Mild Sexual Content | Tags: Post S4, Everybody Lives, Eddie POV, Platonic Stobin, Silliness, Fluff, Hair Removal, Getting Together, Blame it on Nair Fumes

Letting himself inside, Eddie looks around, and the house seems empty, even if Steve's car is in the driveway. He pauses, and he's pretty sure he hears the faint sound of music coming from upstairs.

"Hey! Steve?!" Eddie screams, and waits. Nothing.

So, he climbs the staircase, and that's when he hears that the music is coming from the bathroom. He can also hear Steve and Robin talking, arguing, laughing.

When he gets to the doorway, he's very confused.

Very, very confused.

"What exactly is going on here?" Eddie asks, looking back and forth between Steve and Robin, both standing in the bathroom, wearing short shorts, white lotion slathered all over their legs, "And what's that smell?"

Eddie pulls his shirt up over his nose. It smells like some of the chemicals that Wayne sometimes comes home smelling like after a shift at the plant.

It's caustic. Burning his eyes and nose.

Robin wiggles her leg in his direction, "Nair."

"Hold still!" Steve chides her, trying to get her to stop moving without messing up the application.

"Nair," Eddie repeats.

"Nair," Steve confirms.

"And…"

"Who wears short shorts? We wear short shorts! If you dare wear short shorts, Nair for short shorts!" Robin and Steve both sing-song together, loudly, over the already loud music, waving their arms, legs kicking up together into a kickline, the idea of not moving around, obviously long forgotten.

And, oh. Steve's limber. 

Flexible, and Eddie has thoughts he's not supposed to be having right now. 

He feels insane as he reaches over and turns the music down, maybe a first, in his whole lifetime. He's not supposed to be the normal one in any situation. This is wrong. So wrong.

Like, he gets it. He watches TV. He knows what Nair is. Sort of. In theory. He definitely knows the commercial jingle. But he doesn't understand why this is happening right now. He thought they were going swimming. Not, whatever this is.

"You're using Nair? Why?" Eddie asks, because it smells like something that shouldn't be used by humans without proper ventilation. Maybe gas masks. 

"Robin was curious, so I'm showing her how to do it," Steve says, like that's a normal thing for him to say.

"Okay, sure. Of course. New question, why do you know how to do it?" Eddie asks, as he mourns the loss of Steve's leg hair, that Steve is currently in the process of burning off with that eye-wateringly stinky cream. 

"Swim team," Steve says, like that's an explanation. It's not. It's really, really not.

"Swim team," Eddie repeats.

"Yeah, for like, all that aerodynamic shit," Steve says, and Eddie can't help it. He smiles. 

The kitchen timer dings, loud and shrill, in the small room. 

"Is that so?" Eddie asks, leaning against the door jam, watching as Steve wipes the cream off of Robin's legs with a washcloth. Then forces her legs into the tub, one at a time, as he rinses them off. And Eddie can't tell if it worked or not, it's not like Robin's legs were all that hairy to begin with, at least not as far as he's ever noticed. 

But, Steve. Steve's legs are hairy, just like the rest of him, and Eddie's curious. Morbidly, so.

Robin is running her hand over her legs, and Eddie watches as Steve just stands there, grinning at her.

"See?!" Steve says, excited.

Then she coughs.

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Robin declares, and Eddie wishes she'd bring a little in for the rest of them, honestly. This bathroom needs a window, desperately.

After she goes, Eddie looks back at Steve, "What about yours?"

"Takes a little longer, my hair is way more thick and coarse than hers," Steve says.

And, yeah it is.

Eddie doesn't want to admit, even to himself, what he thinks about all that body hair Steve has.  But he definitely has thoughts about it. Lots and lots of thoughts.

"I'll do you next," Steve teases.

"The hell you will. I like my leg hair right where it is, Harrington."

"Suit yourself then," Steve says dryly, and he finally starts wiping down his own legs. 

And yeah, he's losing hair up to his knee. Well, some of the hair. A little of it. Honestly, it seems very hit and miss as he wipes it away. Most of his leg hair just looks a little melted, singed, curled. 

Damaged, not removed.

"Is it not working?" Eddie asks, curious what the plan is here.

"Well, it's not perfect," Steve laughs, and it looks pretty bad, but Steve doesn't seem to care, as he adds onto his thought with a breezy, "Oh well."

"Are you just gonna leave it like that?" Eddie asks. Because, honestly. No.

Steve just shrugs, "I guess I could shave them."

And Eddie is pretty sure his brain short circuits, because the next thing that comes out of his mouth is totally against his will, "Can I shave them for you?"

Steve stops, looks at him, then laughs, shrugging his shoulders, "Sure. Okay."

Eddie isn't sure why he asked that, and he feels like his cheeks are on fire. Steve reaches into the medicine cabinet, producing a razor and a can of shaving cream, handing them both to Eddie. Then he plugs the tub, runs some water, and wets his legs with a washcloth, before sitting down on the closed toilet seat. 

Oh shit. 

Shit, shit, shit.

"You want me to…?" Eddie asks, trailing off, waving his hand holding the shaving cream towards Steve's legs.

"You're the one that asked," Steve says, teasing him.

Eddie swallows, kneeling in front of Steve, squeezing some of the shaving foam onto his palm, and then runs it up Steve's leg, applying it, stopping when he gets to the knee.

Steve pulls up on his shorts, his already very short shorts, making them even more indecent, "Might as well go on up."

Eddie's dick twitches at the idea, but he nods, getting some more shaving cream and rubbing it up onto Steve's thighs.

Then he holds the razor in a slightly shaky hand, "You sure you want me to do this?"

Steve shrugs, "It'll grow back."

Eddie nods. That's not exactly what he was asking, but he grips Steve's foot in his hand, and starts running the razor upwards, gently. Trying to be careful. One stripe in, he leans over and rinses the blade off in the tub, looking back up at Steve's face. 

And then keeps shaving, getting everything off his lower legs, before pausing, then just forges ahead. In for a penny, in for a pound.

He puts Steve's heel on his shoulder, giving him access to the underside of his thigh, and he's fully hard in his own shorts now, and he really hopes Steve won't notice. He's sure this isn't supposed to be that. He's not supposed to be getting off on this.

But he is. He really, really is.

He's such a goddamn pervert. 

Then he sees it. The hard line of Steve's cock, pressing against his shorts. His tight shorts.

Eddie drops the razor. It clatters to the tile, and he laughs nervously as he reaches to pick it up.

What is he doing? What are they doing right now? It's madness. It's the fumes. They've gone to their heads. They've lost critical brain function, the both of them. That must be it. It's the only explanation. 

Robin turns back up in the doorway, and they both turn and look at her. It must look crazy, Eddie between Steve's thighs, his leg hoisted up, covered in shaving cream.

"Oh, ew. No," she says, and disappears just as fast as she'd arrived, slamming the door behind her as she goes. 

Steve chuckles, and Eddie gets back to work. Shaving, rinsing. Over and over, until Steve's legs are both bare. 

It's weird, but Eddie can't help himself, and he runs his hand up Steve's calf, slow. Exploring. 

And Steve moans. 

Oh, goddamn. 

Eddie suddenly raises up on his knees, sending Steve backwards, off-balance, falling against the toilet tank. 

"Am I reading this wrong?" Eddie asks, chest heaving. Both of his hands clutching Steve's wet, smooth thighs.

Steve shakes his head, pupils blown wide, and Eddie runs his hand up, cupping Steve through his short shorts. Leaning forward, pressing against Steve, contorting Steve's body, as Eddie leans close enough to kiss him.

And he does, lips barely brushing, lightly, and it isn't lost on Eddie that he put his hand on Steve's dick before they even kissed. 

Steve leans forward, surging into him, kissing back. Hand coming up to press against the back of Eddie's head, pulling him closer. 

And Eddie's sure he'll die right here, for real this time.

If not from the lingering toxic fumes, definitely from Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun! 🌞

Notes: There are lots of different versions of the Nair "short shorts" commercials, but here's one from the 70s, if you're unfamiliar.

[spooky-bunnys]

Title: Upset Bunny

Fandom: Diabolik Lovers

Pairing: Sakamaki Brothers x Bunny Hybrid M.R

Warnings: swearing

After the last 'grooming' incident, Reji had a stern talking to (Name) about him trying to groom himself. Which made (Name) upset. He was just trying to look good for them! Why was he getting in trouble for that?!

(Name) flopped onto the bed. His long bunny ears were droppy. Singaling his depressed mood. His little tail was dropping as well. Which meant (Name) was deaply upset. Something that was rare since he came to the Sakamaki Mansion.

Normally (Name) was the happy shy bunny they know and love. But right now? He was an upset Bunny that had 'banned' the others from his room for the time being. He couldn't really ban them, since theh could literally teleport into his room. But a few have already tried and was promptly kicked out.

Even Shuu who only wanted to sleep on the bed by him was kicked out. None of the brothers knew what was going on. So they tried asking Yui who only gave them a straight face. Then proceeded to ask them why she'd know anything. So they tried winning over the depressed bunny. By giving him gifts. But the gifts were thrown back at them. Along with a huff the door was slammed in their faces.

Though (Name) didn't slam the door in Subaru's face. (Name) had politely thanked the youngest brother and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Which absolutely infuriated the other brothers. Especially Ayato, who demanded to know why his gift was throw in his face along with the door being slammed. (Name)'s expression didn't change as he slammed the door in the oldest triplets face.

Ayato turned towards the smug youngest brother. "Oi! What makes you so special?! Why did you get a thanks and a kiss on the cheek, while were had our gifts and door slammed in our faces!?" Subaru shrugged. "Don't know. All I know is, (Name) is upset with you. Not me. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and get my lovely flower some more flowers."

With that he disappeared. Leaving the other brothers confused or angery. Reji sighed and pushed up his glasses. "Maybe the human can get the answer out of him. Without upsetting him more." The others grumbled and made their way to Yui's room. Where the girl was studying for a test she was gonna be having next time she went to school.

Yui sighed when she heard rough knocking on her door. Only one person in the house knocked like that. She turned around and was met with five or the six Sakamaki brothers. Who all had different expressions on their faces. "Yes Reji-san. How can I help you?" Before Reji could answer Kanato interrupted. Shoving his annoyed face into Yui's personal space.

"Why is (Name) so angry with us?!" Yui slightly flinched at the raising of his voice. Having grown mostly used to it by now. Yui groaned internally. She thought she had already told them she didn't know. "I already told you guys. I don't and wouldn't know why he's upset with you all." Apparently Kanato didn't like the answer.

"Who else would know then?! (Name) won't speak to us! So how are we supposed to fix the problem?!" Yui could already feel a headache coming. "Have you guys tried talking to him, or did you just shove gifts into his face?" Nobody said anything. Kanato was silent and carefully backed away and hugged his bear tightly.

Yui ran a hand down her face and sighed. "You guys are just. Look. (Name) is probably upset over what happened a few nights ago." The brothers stopped and tried remembering what would've happened in the past few days. Yui could scream right now with how oblivious these vampires could be.

"He tried dressing up. He even tied grooming himself for you guys?" The brothers made humming sounds. But of course they didn't know what the problem was. "Then why is he upset with us?" Yui face-palmed. "He got the brush stuck. Remember? You and Ayato pulled on the brush and Subaru had to help him groom. Then after that Reji lectured him. For trying to look good for you guys."

The brothers were silent. "If I was (Name) I'd be upset about that honestly." Multiple brothers nodded and teleported away leaving Yui to study. She prayed that she was correct or at least somewhat right about why (Name) was in the mood he was currently in. If not Yui truly wouldn't know.

Back in (Name)'s room, (Name) was just trying to nap now. He'd eaten the resh carrots Subaru had given him and he'd fallen asleep. Belly full and under the warm blankets of his comfy bed. That was until he heard knocking on his bedroom door. Now all the brothers knocked on his door. Well, except Laito. He would just teleport no matter the reason.

But each brother had a way of knocking, and the way the knocking sound, (Name) figured it'd be either Shuu or a tired Reji. (Name) groans and turns away from the door. He grabbed the extra pillow and threw it at the door. He didn't hear hear the pillow hit the door or floor and groaned again.

"Please leave. I want to be alone." (Name) felt the bed dip and an arm wrapping around him. "Shuu. Please. Leave me alone." Shuu said nothing but pulled him closer. (Name) huffed and tried to move away, but ultimately failed since he was weaker then the other. Although there was one thing he could do.

(Name) used his ear to smack the other. Making Shuu chuckle. "Naughty bun bun. Are you trying to get punished?" (Name) huffed again and tried to smack the male again, but with the other ear. Which sadly didn't work. Since Shuu had grabbed the ear and gave it a kiss. Making (Name) extremely flustered.

(Name) stopped moving and pouted. Shuu stared for a moment before sighing. "Now will you tell me why you're so upset with us?" (Name) huffed and tried getting away again. Making Shuu sigh again and turn (Name) towards him. Gently grabbing the hybrid's chin, Shuu looked directly into the others eyes.

(Name) silently stared into Shuu's dark blue eyes. They were (Name)'s favorite feature about the eldest Brother. (Name) swears he could stare into those deep blue ocean eyes for the rest of his life. The brothers eyes have always mesmerized him.

"(Name) you can stare into my eyes later. Now tell me whats wrong?" (Name) sighed and started playing with his ears. "Its stupid, but I'm upset about how you guys got upset with me last time. I just wanted to look good for you guys." Shuu deadpanned. "Are you serious?"

(Name) groaned and hid his face in Shuu's chest. "Stupid I know! But seriously! Everytime I try and do something myself I get lectured." Shuu went to retaliate but (Name) continued. "I try to groom myself? Lectured. I try to make my own food? Lectured. I try and do laundry? Lectured. I'm not helpless!"

Shuu flinched. (Name) wasn't exactly lying. His brothers didn't like (Name) doing stuff. They wanted to treat (Name) like a prince, but (Name) liked being independent. He didn't like people doihg stuff for him. He was dependent on himself and the most stubborn person they've ever known.

Shuu sighed. "I'll talk to them. Just rest right now okay?" Shuu ran his fingers through (Name)'s hair. Massaging his ears lightly. It didn't take long for (Name) to fall asleep. A few minutes later more footsteps sounded in the room. Shuu carefully looked over his shoulder. Seeing his other brothers.

Kanato stepped forward and carefully brushed (Name)'s hair from his face. "So he's upset with us, because he thinks we're too controlling basically." Shuu didn't answer them only hugging (Name) closer and closed his eyes. The brothers roll their eyes. "Hey deadbeat." Shuu didn't react. "Thanks for talking to (Name) I guess."

Reji teleported away first. The others slowly following. Shuu opened an eye and huffed. "Whatever Butler-chan." Shuu smirked and played his mp3. Removing a ear bud so (Name) could hear the music too. He kissed (Name)'s forehead and sighed softly.

[safination]

Partners in Death... and Life

Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted

| Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Part 4: The Radio Star’s Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes||Masterlist| ao3| Tag-list| Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Please take note of the following warnings: Body horror. Graphic descriptions of injuries, glass piercing skin, cutting of skin, cutting of chest. Dissection of Human muscles. Misogyny Just…be careful out there

Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason.

Hello. I usually aim to post on Wednesdays, and I knoooow it's not a Wednesday. But, in my defense, this chapter is longer than chapters 1 and 2 combined. Also, I tried to keep the body horror to a medium level. I tried to find a perfect balance of horrifying but also still readable. Would you guys want more body horror, or less, or is this a good amount? Updated: 5/01/2024 *just realized that I forgot to add the part I was supposed to add*

The heart monitor beeps with a steady rhythm. The model’s ECG reading dip, but that’s normal for her species. You study the model asleep on your table, and take your place.

Turning to your interns, you adjust the fit of your gloves as say, “Are you ready?

From the other side of the table, Lys nods her head with such vigor that you’re afraid it would fall off. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be!”

Heme takes their place next to you, wheeling the cart within your reach. “Aren’t there supposed to be more people here?” they ask, adjusting the fit of their mask with their shoulder. “We don’t even have an anesthesiologist present, and the technician dumped the tools and left without a word!”

Sighing, you take another look at the screen, and monitor the patient’s ECG readings. Just a couple of decades ago, you wouldn’t even be allowed to take five steps into a surgical suite, but in your death, you stare at the state-of-the-art Vox technology heart monitor.

“This was dumped at the last minute. And the Vees paid a hefty amount for the best,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I guess it doesn’t help that most of the staff have clocked-off for the night already.”

“It really doesn’t,” Heme says. You think they frown, you’re not actually sure. It’s hard to tell with masks on, but Heme sounds like they’re frowning.

“On the bright side, this is a special case, and special cases require special means,” you say. “Stick around, and I’ll make sure to show you something amazing.”

Lys squeals, jumping a bit, “I can’t wait to see your work.”

You turn to Heme. “Tell how you were guided into stopping the bleeding by Doctor Neisseria.”

Heme straightens, round their shoulders. “Hemostatic dressing for the capillaries,” they recite. “Then Lys clipped the bigger vessels, and Doctor Neisseria used an electrocautery for any that we missed.”

“Good,” you say. “Lys, is this your first time using a clip?”

“…Yes,” Lys tells you. Even with a mask on, you could tell she was sulking.

You eye the cart between you and Heme, double checking that the technician brought everything you requested for. “It shows,” you say. “Practice every chance you get. Make a deal with some poor and down on their luck Sinner who wouldn’t mind making a deal for permission to poke around whenever you want. They’ll heal on their own if it’s not too severe…or don’t—I mean, that’s how I did mine.”

Lys blinks at you. “I’ll…keep that in mind.”

Your shoulder slumps. “…Shall we just begin?”

Heme hands you a needle driver, the needle already clipped to it. A bunch of suture forms around your palm. It’s study, and made of pure Sinner Magical Energy, or just magic or whatever. It comes out of your and you have full control, that’s all you need to know.

Heme and Lys lean closer to observe the threads you make.

I don’t get to do this often.” You turn your head, motioning to the detached arm placed on the side. The skin has been stretched and the jagged and stringy muscle fibers sticking out tell you it’s been ripped off rather than slice. The radius protrudes out into the air, jagged and sharp. It would have hurt this model quite a lot. “Steady her arm please.”

Lys snatches the arm, holding it with confidence as she steadies it. “This is so cool.”

Heme hums. “Cool in a gross way.”

“Whether your patient is awake or not, a steady hand is key,” you say. “When you pierce your needle, be sure to do it right at the epidermis when dealing with the skin. Too deep and you’ll puncture the arteries or nerves.”

Lys brings the arm closer, and you do the first suture that will connect the limb of Velvette’s model. Valen-something apparently tore her up, but it wasn’t enough to kill her. So, they rushed her into the Emergency Room three days before this poor girl’s debut, and dropped her into your care with her arm and leg in an ice box.

You sew the model’s arm. The threads around your fingers are light, but sturdy. You entwine some around your fingers like some puppet master for better grip. Blood vessels, bones, nerves, and muscles. Not a single cell escapes your control.  

You quiz your interns from time to time or tell them to take a closer look at where the vessels stick out the muscles, making sure they’re able to observe how a proper reattachment is conducted.

You study the threads connecting the arm to its body There are thousands of loose sutures. One single pull, and it will be completely reattached.

You shift your shoulders and crack your neck, giving it a slight stretch. “How long has it been?”

Lys glances at the clock behind you. “Five hours. I think it’s almost sunrise.”

“Be ready to be here for a while,” you say, rolling your shoulders. “The leg will be more complicated.”

Heme groans and their shoulder slump. “I guess I should just be thankful the model is mostly humanistic.”

You pull on the singular thread, and the stitches shorten until the arm is fully connected to its base. A thing line is the only indication that any limbs have been detached.

The door swings open and you snap your head at the sound.

“Hey doc!” The little Egg Boi saunters into the room, an envelope in his tiny hands. “I got something for you.”

Your feathers crack and sharpen. “If you wish to keep your shell,” you hiss at him, “you will leave this room before you contaminate it further.”

Egg Boi #04 wobbles a bit. “I was told to give you a message.”

A headache forms on your temples. You want to massage it, but that would contaminate your gloves. “Lys, show the egg to the observation room. Show him the microphone.”

Lys pouts a bit but exits the surgical suite.

Heme grabs the leg, and you begin again. You pause to take a deep breath. The threads don’t just appear out of thin air—they’re created because you will them to take shape. It gives as much as it needs to take from you.

Egg Boi# 04’s voice echoes on the speaker. “I have a note for you.”

“Read it then leave.” You pierce the tibia bone with your needle (special hell needle, you guess. Normal needles definitely cannot pierce bones) and connect it to the model’s leg.

Your concentration does not waver, even as Lys enters back into the room.

“My dearest good doctor,” Egg Boi #04 reads. “What a helltastic day for –"

“Stop!” you exclaim, and the threads you’re producing fizzle a bit, “Is that from Alastor?”

“Uhhh…yes?”

“Give me 10 minutes.” You sew the model’s leg just like before, starting from bones, then vessels, the muscles, and finally skin, but this time at a much faster pace.  

Thousands of strings connect the detached leg to its place.

Heme gawks at you. “I thought the leg was more complicated?”

“It is.”

“It took you five minutes to sew everything,” they say. “Why did it take the arm until sunrise?”

“You wouldn’t have been able to learn anything if I went too fast.” You hand the needle driver to Heme, who takes it with eager hands “I trust you will be able to close for me?”

“Yes!”

“Go around the skin—remember not too deep,” you say. “Once it’s all connected, just one strong pull and the threads should work their magic. Lys, once she closes, you can practice your knots.”

The door closes with a swing. You discard your gloves then peel off your protective layers, but you keep the scrub cap on your head.

The Egg Boi waddles into the room, threatening to tip any moment. He holds up Alastor’s note and you’re forced to bend when you reach for it.

You open the envelope and sigh. “This is a letter, and definitely not a note,” you say counting all the pages jammed into the envelope. “Notes are small pieces of paper, and not fifteen pages of paper scribbled back-to-back.”

You take one deep breath, flaring your nostrils as you contemplate your marriage choices, and begin reading.

Heme enters the holding room as you’re reading through the last page.

They take a look at the pages you’ve read. “Ohhhhh a letter?” they say, discarding their mask into the trash. Their gloves are next. “Who is it from?”

“My husband.”

“Why a letter?” Heme asks you “Why not just shoot you a text or a phone call?”

“He mumbles to himself when he writes, and he just loves hearing his own voice.” You turn to the Egg Boi once you’ve read the last word. “Tell Alastor I’m busy—I can’t leave work to go to the hotel on such short notice!”

“Right….” Heme leans against the sink. “Management will be dropping by this afternoon.”

Your eyes squint. “This afternoon? I was told there'd be visiting tomorrow!”

“Yes, they informed you last night,” Heme says. “It’s tomorrow now—morning, actually.”

Your eyes twitch as your turn to Egg Boi #4. “Tell him I will be early. Now go, run along now, least you get scrambled.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Bustling sounds from the other side of the circus themed doors. You knock then take a step backwards, least Vaggie greets you with a fist to the face.

A crash sounds from the inside. The door slams open, and Charlie pops out, hair disheveled and sticking out in odd places. You see the relief oozing into her. Charlie’s smile relaxes and her eyes stop bulging at the sight of you.

She says your name with enthusiasm. “It’s just you! I am so glad to see you.”

You wave at her. “Hello, Charlie. It’s good to see you as well.”

“Would you like to come inside?” she says at the same time another crash sounds. Charlie’s smile turns sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

“It’s quite alright,” you say with a polite smile. “Who am I to judge another person’s mess? It can be quite entertaining sometimes.”

 Charlies smoothens the stray hairs sticking out. It does little to actually fix it. “Sooooo what brings you by? Not that you’re not welcome here! Everyone is welcome here! We don’t discriminate at –”

The door swings wider and Alastor pops out with that permanent smile of his. “I called her here.”

Alastor helps you out of your coat as you enter through the doors, and drapes it over his arm. “I came early. I hope you don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the crudely attached banners. Strobe lights are being taped to the railings. Its brightness makes you blink. “Are you throwing a party? Is that why you called me here?”

Alastor hangs your coat on the rack. “We’re preparing for a sudden guest,” he says. “It seems we’ll have to delay our plans, only if you’re happy with waiting for me.”

Charlie shrinks and her eyes water a bit. “Alastor…,” she says with a frown. “If you have plans, that’s alright—go. We can manage without you here!”

“Not at all, this is where he needs to be right now,” you tell Charlie, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her smile brightens immediately. “Who will be the special guest today?”

Charlie fiddles with her fingers. “We…invite my…dad.”

Alastor twirls his microphone. “The King of Hell himself.”

“Oh,” you start, “the demon is coming here?”

“That’s actually Satan,” Charlie says with a smile. “Dad often gents confused with Satan but they’re not the same

“Oh…So, Lucifer is coming here.”

“Pretty much.”

You laugh a bit—you’re not even sure why. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. It sounded so awkward, even to you. “Well, how can I help? If it’s alright with you, of course.”

Charlie’s eyes brighten, and she shakes your shoulders. “Are you sure?”

Alastor grabs Charlie’s fingers with the tip of his own and pry them off you. “I’ve already come all this way,” you say, and turn to your husband. “I’m sure we can make the most out of this situation.”

Charlie leaves to change her clothes, and hopefully brush her hair while she’s at it.

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his, even when you know it’s unnecessary to escort you to a living area that’s five-feet away.

He leaves you, walking to the kitchen with a wave of his microphone.

The hotel looks the same, just more diverse colors hanging around. Niffty stalks past you without a word, engrossed in her task of sweeping the floor. Angel Dust or Vaggie don’t seem to be around, nor is Husk at his usual post. Only a one-eyed cat keeps you company.

On the table,  deflated balloons are left forgotten with two pumps resting next to it. You take your seat, and complete the unfinished task.

You’re on the third balloon when Alastor presents a mug to you.

He leans over the chair, reaching his arms to place that ‘Oh Deer’ mug on the table. It’s difficult to meet his eyes when he leans so far in front that his whole face is upside down.

His hair hangs in the air, and your husband looks goofy in such an awkward position that you can’t help but laugh. “You look awful this hellish morning!” he says, and his grin widens until his teeth show. “I thought you could use a bit of brightening up. You’re practically dozing off in the chair.”

 “Thank you,” you say, a small smile on your face. “The coffee smells good.”

Alastor swings back, and lands next to you. “I know we agreed to leave such tasks to you,” he says and he waves his arms as he talks. “But you look ready to drop dead any second. Poor Niffty had swept about a hundred feathers on your short walk from the door to this chair—Long day?”

“Longer day, actually. Yesterday’s long day turned into a late night that bleeds into today’s early morning.” You take a sip, and revel in its taste. Even after all these years…his coffee still tastes like acidic bean water. (If you smile, then that’s your business.) “The coffee tastes good.”

Alastor crosses his leg, cracking a laugh hard enough for his eyes to bulge. “You didn’t even try to check if it’s been tampered,” he says with that same wild smile. “Are you that tired, my love?”

You smile at him, lips curving bright and wide. “My deerest, did you place something into my coffee?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s disappointing,” you say, taking another sip. “That suit of yours could use some brightening up! A splash of this bean water would add such an interesting texture to it.”

“We’ll it good to see you’re not tired enough to lose your way with words,” Alastor says, smiling at you. “But if you’ve had a ‘longer’ day, you could have sent the Egg Boy—"

“It’s Egg Boi, my deerest.”

Alastor squints, his brow furrowing as he does. “That’s what I said.”

“You said Egg Boy, deerest,” you tell him, taking a longer sip than usual to drown your laughter. “Those eggs are called Egg Bois. They have different numbers—except Frank.”

On the corner of his cheek—just where it’s always been—Alastor’s smile strains. “You said the same thing as I did.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

You chuckle a bit, and take another long slip. “If you say so.”

Alastor rolls his eyes and he makes it a point to show you he’s doing so. “You could have mentioned to that egg creature that you’d had a long day.”

“Management was dropping by my floor today.” You grab another balloon to pump it.

Alastor’s head tilts, and you hear the small crack of his neck. Static fills the air. “Well, I’m always glad to be used in such a way.”

You roll your eyes, making it a point to show Alastor that you’re doing so. The sharpened feathers and the glow of your eyes were just for the fun of it. “There is another reason why I dropped by the hotel.”

“Do tell!”

You knot the end of the balloon and throw it to the side. “Who am I to refuse the summon of the Radio Demon?”

“His wife.”

You snort, and toss a balloon at him. One balloon becomes two and now you’re just tossing whatever balloon you could get your hands on.

Alastor pops a balloon and static emits from his microphone.

You cross your arms, staring down at him. “I was going to use that.”

Alastor grabs the second pump. 

An hour passes too soon. They always seem to do around your husband. The balloons are stringed and weighted. Razzle and Dazzle—the two lambs Charlie made a point to introduce you too—put up a…er… interesting banner on the railings.

Sir Pentious slithers out the kitchen, a tray of cookies in his hold. The Hazbin Hotel looks lively. The space looks decent—live in — as if Sinners actually gathered and used the space. (Those are your favorite kind.)

Sir Pentious offers a cookie to you, and you munch on it. You give him a compliment for its taste.

By the entrance, with Vaggie to her side and Alastor at the other, Charlie takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she does.

Vaggie gives her a smile, and Charlie opens the door.

The bringer of sin rushes to his daughter, drowning her in a hug.“Chaaaaarlie!”

Charlie squirms in his hold. “Heeeyy, Dad!”

Egg Boi #13 and Egg Boi #08 twist their poppers and confetti pops into the air. Niffty grabs her broom, sweeping the floor.

You watch Lucifer, and try to hide your smile. The King of Hell looks different from any paintings or drawings humans make. They can’t seem to capture how shy he looks. How awkward. No painting has been able to capture his search for a place to belong.

This Fallen Angel has blond hair. He’s not the brunette you thought he’d be, which was a shame for you rather liked brunets. It makes sense he’d be blond. Afterall, Charlie has blonde hair as well, and she is the spitting image of her father.

If someone told you it was Lucifer who birthed her, you wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“It’s finally nice to put a name to the face.” Alastor shakes Lucifer’s hand with his microphone, wiping his own right after. “You are much shorter in real life.”

You turn aways, coughing to hide your laughter as Alastor banters with Lucifer.

Husk rolls his eyes at you and grumbles. “Of course, you’d find that hilarious,” he says. “Everyone knows it's smart to insult Lucifer.”

You place a hand on your cheek. “Guilty as charged.”

Charlie brings Lucifer to meet your group. He calls Vaggie, Maggie. Smiles awkwardly when Angel Dust calls him a ‘short king’. Lucifer waves back when Husk waves at him, and shrinks when Niffty jumps and pulls him by the collar. One by one, you’re introduced.

You extend your arm for a handshake.

Lucifer smiles awkwardly, shrinking a bit, but reaches out to shake your ha—

The chandelier crashes to the floor.

And oh God…

Lucifer begins to sing.

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Your hair sticks to your face.

Water droplets splash on your clothes. You accept your fate, and trudge through the rain, even as your fingers freeze. The breeze blows your hair, making you nuzzle into your damp coat. You should have brought an umbrella, or taken a cab. Just your luck, a sunny day turns into a drizzle that turns your shoes into a lake. You hate damp socks.

An umbrella blocks the rain from your soaked clothes.

You spring out of its coverage, spinning to look behind. Your arms jerk out, causing you to wobble because of the wet pavement. (That’s totally not embarrassing.)

 “The point of an umbrella is to stay underneath it when it’s raining.” Alastor smiles, giving you a small wave.

You wave back.

“Oh…hello,” you say, adjusting the straps of your bag. Alastor takes a step forward, and you jump backwards. “I’m alright—I can manage by myself.”

“Why don’t you tell me all about your very capable self from underneath the umbrella,” he says, twirling the umbrella. “Come on, now.”

You dip your head inside. Alastor inches closer, but there’s still a respectable gap between your shoulders. “I’m really alright,” you say. “I quite love the rain.”

“Yes, the rain is a beautiful thing to frolic underneath when you’re in a meadow,” Alastor says. You can’t help but feel that Alastor is scolding you, “not when it splashes off buildings and drips off power lines and other items that have not been cleaned. We are in the city, my dear.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“My mother would roll in her grave and haunt me when she finds out I left a lady in the rain.”

“But—”

“Constant refusal is quite rude, you know,” he tells you. “And I still owe you one favor.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Alastor says with a smile that makes you smile back. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’m happy to leave my umbrella in your umbrella-less but capable hands, and be on my way.”

You shake your head, inching closer. “We can share if you don’t mind walking.”

“I love walks. It keeps me stimulated.”

Alastor follows your every step, covering you with an umbrella that was meant for one. You glance at his shoulder, and turn away to hide your frown. Half of his shoulder sticks out into the rain, gathering droplets, while not a single speck of water slides on you.

Alastor is giving you the bigger half of the umbrella.

“Would you mind holding this?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you say, and take a hold of his umbrella. Alastor is taller, and you have to quirk your arms higher to avoid hitting his head.

Alastor slips out of his coat. You watch him slide it off his shoulders and pull his arm out the slits. He’s wearing a vest—a fine vest as well. Alastor flicks out stray waterdrops. He leans close enough for you to smell his cologne. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, grabbing the lapels to adjust its fit. His body heat lingers. It’s warm…he’s warm.

Alastor pries the umbrella from your grip with a wide smile. “Before you say anything, the only response that I will be accepting is, ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you, Alastor.”

“You’re welcome.” He adjusts the angle of the umbrella, careful to keep every drop of rain from touching you, even at the cost of his own clothes. “Whatever made you decide to walk?  There are cabs and busses for a reason.”

“It wasn’t that bad when I started,” you say. “Plus, I was eager to get home.”

He keeps his eyes ahead. “It’s still quite dangerous.”

You step over a puddle, narrowly missing it. “Dangerous?”

“Yes!”

“The sun is—well, was still up when I began walking.”

Alastor hums, shaking his head. “Murders and thieves do not magically dissolve in the sun.”

You smile to yourself. “I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable on that subject.”

Alastor turns to you, and his hair shifts as he tilts his head. “Pardon?”

“I heard your voice on the radio this morning,” you tell him, adjusting his coat around your shoulders. “I caught the news segment.”

“Well,” he starts, his smile widening. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “you must have been busy when I mentioned the forecast then.”

You inch closer as much as he’ll allow you, trying to keep a respectable distance, but still close enough that Alastor doesn’t need to sacrifice his clothes to keep yours dry. “Speaking of radio, what brings you to this area?” you say. “Isn’t the radio station all the way across town?”

Alastor laughs in a way that makes you wish you’ve kept your mouth shut. “Have you been tracking my movements?”

“Not at all,” you say and try to mimic his laugh. It comes out strained instead. “I just know how to read a map.”

Alastor steps over a puddle. He places a hand on your back, guiding you away from it. “I just had some business in the area,” he says and drops his hand. “I turned the corner and I found you walking all alone in the rain!”

You smile, careful to keep your eyes forward. “I’m thankful to whatever beings that fated our paths to cross.”

Alastor leans closer, eyeing your hands. “Been gardening recently?”

You glance at your nails, at where stubborn soil sticks underneath the cuticle. “No…not at all,” you say slowly. “I guess you could say…light treasure hunting…?”

“The more I get to know you, the more I find myself dumbfounded at your wide range of hobbies.”

“I hate seeing things go to waste.” You try to ignore the squish of your socks. You are definitely never forgetting your umbrella again. “For example, your garbage is my treasure.”

“What a wonderful philosophy to live by.” Alastor meets your eyes and smiles.

You smile back. “Indeed, isn’t it?”

Alastor’s hold on the umbrella stays firm, even as he follows you around the corner and across the street. Not a single drop of water lands on you. “What treasure were you able to find?”

“You have a lot of questions for me today,” you say and ignore the thumping of your heart. “I feel as if you know me more than I know you—I think that’s rather unfair.”

“Well, what would you like to know?”

You move your foot to avoid puddles of trash. The city could really use a good cleaning. “You know so much about my hobbies. So, I’d like to know some of yours.”

“There isn’t really much to tell,” he says. “The radio is my life.”

A strong breeze has you sinking deeper into Alastor’s coat. “You have your hunts.”

You glance at Alastor, and oh…his hair is as brown as his eyes. Wisps of hair stick to his face because of the rain.

Alastor’s brows furrow a bit, but you swear his smile turns sweet. “Those are more of… a necessity than a hobby.”

“In what way?”

“The woods around my area have a lot of… let’s say… mammals that don’t necessarily belong there, it is as if someone just leaves them from time to time. I hunt a few here and there to thin the population a bit.”

You smile to yourself. “Well, tell me about the radio—What is that like?”

He places his free hand on his chest. “Why, it is the proper medium of expressing oneself, of course.”

“It must be nice having such a creative outlet,” you say. “Sometimes, I wonder how you’re able to come up with the most exciting segments.”

“Sadly, you would think after all these years of bringing success and money into the company, I would be allowed to have more control over my content.”

You step over another puddle. A small tug on Alastor’s arm, and he steps over it as well. “That is quite sad to hear.”

“For example,” he starts, adjusting his hold on the umbrella. “I wanted to have this whole portion just on crimes that have been committed.”

“Like… the news?”

“No, not at all,” he says. “I was thinking more on the lines of old cases like robberies and murders—some solved, some not. Unfortunately, the director said it would be too gruesome.”

“It really depends on how you choose to present it,” you say. “I think audiences would love a good mystery with a satisfying conclusion.”

“That is exactly what I thought so as well!” Alastor’s smile widens. “I came across this story…Oh, well I wouldn’t want to bother you with the details.”

“I’d love to hear this,” you say, chuckling. “Show me how you would present it.”

“One winter night,” he starts off with that never ending smile on his lips, “a child—no ordinary child—disappears in the middle of the night. There were no signs of a break in and nothing other than the child was taken from the home. Not a single dust was out of place.”

“Wait, what was so special about the child?”

“I will tell you,” he says. “That child was the two-year old son of aviator Charles Lindenberg! Some newspapers called the child the ‘Eaglet’ because his father had become the first man to fly across the Atlantic Oce—Oh, why are we stopping?”

He angles the umbrella, careful to keep you dry. You smile at him and point at the small apartment complex behind you. “This is where I live.”

Alastor doesn’t frown, but his smile droops a bit. “Oh…” he says. “I was getting to the most interesting portion of the story—what a shame.”

“A shame, indeed,” you echo. “You have such a captivating way of conveying your words.”

“Thank you.”

The rain splatters on the umbrella. It’s not going to stop anytime soon. Your socks are damp and it’s starting to get colder. “Would you like to finish what you were saying?”

Alastor’s smile widens, just a bit, but it was enough for you to notice. “On the month of May, after continuous searching, a tiny little corpse was found abandoned on the side of the road. Forensics determined that the baby was bludgeoned to death.”

“It’s quite funny,” you tell him. “You talk of such gruesome murders but I find myself captivated.”

“Indeed.”

“Thank you for going out of your way for me, Alastor.” You slip out of his coat, returning it to him. It’s cold—has it always been this cold. “Will I see you around?”

“Of course,” he says. “We always meet in such unconventional places.”

You duck out of the umbrella, giving him one last smile and head up the steps.  A twist of a doorknob, a few flights of stairs, and you would be home. You were tired, your socks are soaking, and the back of your clothes stick to your skin. So, why…why do you find yourself running back into the rain?

“Wait!” you find yourself exclaiming.

Alastor covers you with his umbrella. “What’s wrong?”

‘I… I may have a problem.” The words are slipping out of your lips. “Are you busy by any chance?”

“Not at all.”

“What about your business in the area?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I can always come back.”

 “Would you help me?” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Of course.” Alastor brings the umbrella closer to you. “What can I do for you?”

“I think…” you begin to say. Stop. Stop! You should turn back; head inside where warm clothes and a bath awaits you. “I think I’m in the wrong area.”

Alastor laughs, and it’s that same breathy and light laugh as before. He drapes his coat over your shoulder once more, and adjusts its fit to secure it around you. It’s the warmest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I left a lady stranded in the rain.”

“Not at all,” you say with a smile that you do not remember smiling. “Lots of scary thieves and murders out there—apparently they don’t disappear during the day.”

Alastor nudges you along, down the path, to a destination either of you have the faintest idea where it will end.

Your feet stay locked in its place, and you hold Alastor in your gaze. (His bowtie is crooked, and even with his coat around you, he looks presentable. His vest matches his shoes. You note how his smile is asymmetrical, and how his eyes are still as brown as his hair. Alastor’s glasses are frosted, but he doesn’t seem to mind.)

“Are you alright?” Alastor asks you.

“I’m fine. It’s just….” You shake your head and smile. “It would be a waste to forget this.”

“Come on,” Alastor says in a voice that is oh so soft. He offers his arm, and you hook your own around his.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Motherfucker!” Husk curses into the air, his ears quirking as he does. “Would it fucking kill you to be gentle with that shit?”

“I am being gentle.” You stare him down, keeping the towel pressed firm against his foot. “Would you want to know what it’s like when I’m not? I’d be very happy to comply.”

“………No.”

“Then settle down, Husker,” you say and use your free hand to grab the forceps from the hotel’s medical kit. “This will be much easier if you stay still…or don’t and give yourself a harder time. I’m not the one with glass sticking out of my foot.”

Husk sinks into the clinic bed, sulking as he crosses his arms. He picks on the pillow, fidgeting with its seams. “Bitch.”

You raise your eyebrows and huff. “Virgin.”

Husk’s fangs show when he growls. “I am not…grandma.”

Your feathers bristle. It’s smart to keep Husk talking, even if hurling insults is the way to do so. If it keeps him distracted, you won’t complain. “I died in my late twenties…or was it my early thirties — I honestly forget.”

The blood on his foot begins to clot, and you toss the towel to the waste basket. You walk to the sink, rinsing stray droplets of Husk’s blood with soap.

“Settle down then, grandma,” he says with a triumphant smile, and you roll your eyes. “Today, it’s your memories. Tomorrow, it could be anything.”

You plop on the clinic chair, waiting for your hands to dry. “Yes, it would make sense you’re familiar with the signs,” you shoot back, “considering you lived long enough to be called Pawpaw — Is that why you’re a cat?”

Husk barks a laugh, his wings flaring. He grabs the pillow and tosses it to you. It hits the side of the chair and langs on your lap. You pick it up and toss it back at him. “At least my husband didn’t walk out on me for several years without so much as a word.”

You chuckle, and settle his foot on your leg for better access. Taking your forceps, you brush away slivers of glass from Husk’s foot …or would this be his paw?

You clip a shard of glass, and glance at him. When Husk doesn’t whine like a little bitch, you pull a shard and drop it to the metal pan across you. “At least my marriage lasted even through death, Arachnid Simp.”

Husk rolls his eyes. You smile when his whiskers twitch. “Where did you even learn that word?”

“I see you’re not going to deny it.”

Husk sinks deeper into the bed.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you—I don’t know—wore these things called shoes?” You pluck another shard of glass. Husk tries to jerk his foot away, but your hold stays firm. “They were invented a long, long, time ago, and were created to keep your feet protected.”

“Stop talking as if I’m a child.” Husk frowns and his teeth stick out. “Wearing them feels weird.”

“I guess they kind of are weird.” You grab a fresh towel when blood squirts out of Husk’s foot. “You die and then suddenly waking up to see you don’t have toes

A beat passes between you. “Do you…do you not have toes?”

You toss the towel, and pick out the last shard. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

“What does that even mean?” Husk growls, running his palms over his face.

“I…have absolutely no idea.”

You reach into the medical kit, grabbing some dressing. You peel the plastic and toss it to the trash, and press it against his foot.

Egg Boi #03 waddles up to you, a gauze roll in his tiny hands — you weren’t aware the little egg creature was in the room. You thank him with a smile, and wrap the gauze roll around Husk’s paw then his ankle. Satisfied, you clip it in its place.

“You’re all done,” you say. “It might be weird to step on it for a few hours, but it’s not impossible. The glass didn’t puncture you too deep.”

“Good to know.”

“Oh…and just in case, the amount of blood you saw isn’t anything to be scared of. There’s just a lot of tiny vessels on the foot. That’s why it took a while for it to stop,” you say and toss him a new set of gauze rolls and pads.

Husk stares at the items. “I don’t know how to use this.”

You stare at him, leaning into the chair. “Just slap the square on the skin and roll the gauze around your foot.”

Husk hops out of the clinic, keeping pressure off his injury.

It takes a while to clean up after yourself, but Egg Boi #03 keeps you company. The little egg speaks a lot of nonsense, but it’s entertaining nonetheless. You flick the lights, and Egg Boi #03 follows behind you.

The chandeliers had been dragged away, and the glass and debris cleared off the carpet.

Mimzy’s hug makes you take a step back.

You squirm in her hold, placing a placating hand on her shoulders.

“I am sooooo glad you are here!” Mimzy exclaims, shaking your shoulders. “This is like one big reunion, ay. Just between you and me, that Lucifer is a real looker—shame on Alastor for not warning a gal. I would have dressed better, and who knows? Maybe I could be the Queen of Hell. Ha!”

Mimzy grabs your arm and drags you to the bar. Husk pours you a drink with a nod, and stalks away. Seeing him hop up the stairs makes you laugh.

You swirl your drink. “It’s always good to see you, old friend.”

“Not that old!” Mimzy swats your arm, a huge grin on her lips. “And there’s no need to lie to me, darling. I doubt you actually feel that way.”

“Well, I still have those burn marks on my wall from the time you decided to play bartender with matches.”

Mimzy barks a laugh, and her legs kick. “C’mon you can’t still be blaming  me! If I remember correctly, it was Alastor who brought out the matches.”

Angel Dust walks up to you with Sir Pentious trailing behind him. You wave.Sir Pentious waves back, his hood flapping open.

“Mind if we join ya?” Angel Dust asks.

“Not at all,” Mimzy says. “I’m always weak to such lookers.”

Angel Dust takes the seat next to you and pushes back his hair. Sir Pentious takes the one behind him. “Sooooo, you two and Alastor run in the same circles.” He takes a drink. “And you guys are friends with him?”

You take a sip of your own drink. “You could describe it that way.”

“Well, those are your words, not mind, but I think it fits.” Mimzy glances at you, a knowing smile on her lips. “But our good doctor here is more than just—Hey! Why do you look so surprised?”

“Well, I just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery,” Angel Dust says. Sir Pentious nods, his head squeaking as he does “What's his deal?”

Mimzy is happy to explain tall, dark, and creepy’s ‘deal’.

“But before that, he was the prime bachelor of my day,” Mimzy says. “Not a single lady wouldn’t want a taste of that twink. But eh… I wouldn’t wish marriage with Alastor on even my worst enemies. It would be a real shock when you die and find out your hubby’s got a real screw loose.”

“Well, it wasn’t a shock to me,” you say, rolling your eyes. You swirl your drink—hmmm, it’s good to know Husk still knows what you like.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Mimzy chuckles nervously. She scoots closer, elbowing you lightly.  “You happy he’s back? I still remember the few months you’d visit my place to look for your deerest, most darling Alastor, Mimzy at the bottom of a bottle.”

Your eyes twitch. “Quite pleased actually,” you say and force a smile. “It’s great to finally see my husband again.”

“Husband?” Angel Dust chokes on his drink.

Sir Pentious tilts his head and his hat slides off a bit. “Oh you’re married?”

You show them your ring, wiggling your finger. “Indeed.”

Sir Pentious puffs out his chest. “I would love to meet thisss husband of yours,” he says. “If you cannot be my rival, he can fight in your stead.”

“That wouldn’t be a smart idea

Mimzy stares at him. “He’s not the brightest is he?”

Angel Dust drops his drink with a clink. “Pause,” he splutters. “Shut u—” He coughs, still reeling from his drink going down the wrong pipe. “Shut up. Plause. Pause!”

Sir Pentious frowns, and his tongue sticks out. “No one elssseee is talking.”

“There is no way,” Angel Dust says. He turns to you, eyes bulging. “I refuse to believe that Freaky got hitched.”

Sir Pentious gapes, and his hoop opens. “Alastor is married as well?”

Mimzy slaps her forehead and points to you. “He’s married to her!”

“You are mess’in with me,” Angel Dust says. “Well, you can’t trick me. I refuse to believe it, toots.”

Mimzy takes a swig of her drink. “No one’s mes’in with ya,” she says with bright eyes. “They had a big white wedding and everything. I even got to bless them with my singing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Mimzy glares at Angel Dust, a hand on her hips and her noise in the air. “You calling me a liar?”

You place a hand on Mimzy’s shoulder. “It was a good day, wasn’t it?” you say.

“Could’ve been better without the rain,” she says shrugging.

The lights flicker. Static fills the air, making your skin buzz. The bar glows a faint green. “The rain made it sentimental actually,” you say and glance up the stairs. “We quite like the rain.”

Angel Dust crosses both sets of arms. “I thought you said you were friends.”

“I said partners,” you tell him. “Alastor said friends.”

Angel Dust blinks at you and sighs. “So, you married him? Like you’re his wife.”

“I am, indeed!”

“Are you sure?”

“I sure hope so,” you say, crossing your legs. “It would be weird not to be sure considering I was there in a white dress, walking down the aisle.” Mimzy barks a laugh, and the feathers on her head sway. A part of you hopes she topples off the chair.

“Uh…Is this something we should know?” Angel Dust asks. “He’s not going to try to kill me because I learned about this right?”

“We’re not trying to hide it, but we don’t broadcast it either,” you say. “And well…no wife likes to be introduced as a ‘friend’.”

Sir Pentious’ tongue sticks out. “Does Alasssstor own your soul or something?”

You empty your drink and revel in the taste. “We got married back when we were alive.”

Angel Dust reaches across the bar, grabbing a whole bottle off the shelf with his long arms. He pops open the cork and takes a swig straight from the bottom. “I still have trouble belive you,” he says, squinting his eyes. “I just…I can’t!”

“Your belief, or lack of, won’t change the fact that I have a ring,” you say. “And it’s not really for you to believe, now is it?”

“Why…?” Angel Dust’s mouth quirks into the cutest frown. “Why…ya’know?”

You sigh and place a hand on your cheek with a smile. “He makes me laugh.”

Angel Dust makes a face, and coils back like he’s been shot.

“Oh he’s a total kitten,” Mimzy says with a bright smile. She inches her glass closer to Angel Dust, and he fills it up for her. “Catch him in a good mood or pour him a drink and play some jazz and he’s totally harmless.”

“You still shouldn’t toss caution into the air, Mimzy” you say. “If I were you, I’d be wary about trusting Alastor just because he likes cleaning up your mess.”

Angel Dust crosses his arm, and his eyebrows quirk. “Ain’t he your hubby?” he says. “Isn’t there this whole spiel about trust and love and faith and all that other boring vanilla shit.”

“He wouldn’t be the Radio Demon if he could be trusted by just anyone, now would he?” you say. “It still crosses me when I remember how he lied to me.”

Angel Dust’s eyes shine. “You said no wife likes being introduced as a ‘friend’.”

“Yes?”

“It must have crossed you quite a lot, huh?”

You shrug, a bit confused. “I mean… I wasn’t really a big deal at the end of the day.”

Angel Dust’s smile widens and that golden tooth of his shimmer. “I want to know everything.”

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Despite the rain, clear skies show the moon, not a cloud in sight.

The flashlight clipped on your collar shines on your path. Your boots sink deep into the mud, but that’s alright. A few inches of goo won’t stop you from your destination. You adjust your leather medical bag—double checked that there are gloves inside.

Between those two trees, your treasure lies buried.

You lay your kit on some nearby stones and reach in for your gloves. You dig until bits of the cadaver’s skin stick out. You brush the soil of his chest and peel open the flaps of his skin. The underside of his skin has blood vessels attached to it. It was worth cutting out the fat to have a glimpse.

Superficial fascia connects his muscles to his dermis. You take your probe and disconnect the thin filament. It reminds you of spider-webs.

You discard your probe and exchange it for the bottle of formaldehyde. You can’t study the whole body, not when it’s exposed to the elements. His fingers are starting to rot, but that’s alright. The chest is all you need, for now. So, the chest is all you’ll preserve.

The cheesecloth you placed on him last night is still damp. Good, that means it’s been sanitized this whole time. You take the cheesecloth and wife it against his open cavity, sanitizing every surface you can reach.

The formalin stings your nose and burns your eyes. It makes you cough, but you push through the pungent chemical.

You peel off the cheesecloth and use it to spread formalin into the deeper crevices between his skin and muscle.

Good. There are no maggots yet. It means you still have time.

You discard your gloves for a fresh pair and prepare your tools. You take your forceps and clip the scalpel blade onto the handle. You lay all your tools on a clean cloth for easy reach.

A human’s adipose tissue buildup is thicker than animals. This man’s fat is soft, easily squishable. Sadly, you’re not here to study his fat.

The scalpel blade is balanced perfectly. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You slice through his adipose tissue, discarding it behind you, carving the cadaver until a nice rectangle opening forms. Muscles are grey, not like the red color printed on textbooks. You run your fingers along the smooth fibers of his pectorals. It’s slimy. That’s probably moisture mixing with the formaldehyde.

You quirk your shoulder to adjust the angle of your flashlight, still running your hand on his pectoral.

There, on the side of the chest where a muscle resembles a fan, do you find what you’re looking for.

Taking your probe, you define the muscle. You don’t use your scapple—never a scapple, because it could slice the fibers. You’ll scrape off the muscles later when it’s time to move on to the systems.

You take a pen and write your notes.

Muscle name: Serratus Ventralis. Description: The Serratus Ventralis appears to be a fan-shaped muscle, just like Hyman writes it to be. Although he’s not describing humans, I think it looks the same. Will double check to see if such similarities are indeed correct. Just like the book says, I can see the muscle extending anteriorly and posteriorly from the scapula and to the walls of the thorax. The Serratus Ventralis appears to be divisible into anterior and posterior portions, with the anterior originating deeper into the body. (Will cut open if there is still time.) The posterior border seems to be where it originates from, and while it is buried by other muscles, I think it originates from somewhere between the ribs. Origin, Insertion, Action: Origin: Textbook says it originates from the outer surfaces of the upper eight or nine ribs.  (Will double check once I’ve moved on.) Insertion: The muscle fibers appear to move upward to the side. Inserts along the anterior surface of the medial border of the scapula Action: If it indeed is inserted from the scapula, this could mean that it could draw the scapula, forward, backward or against the body.

You flip to the previous page, and cross out Serratus ventralis. You move on to the muscle on your list: Xiphihumeralis. Based on the name, the muscle should pass through the xiphoid process to the sternu—

“Is this what you meant about my trash being your treasure?”

You startle, jumping back until a tree hits you and there’s nowhere else to escape. Run. Run. Run! Your heart screams at you, hammering in your chest. No one is supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be alone. You were careful—not careful enough, apparently.

Alastor emerges from the trees.

He waves at you when your gazes meet, but you don’t wave back. He’s smiling. “Hello,” he greets you with a gentle voice that strikes your core. It would be foolish to mistake his gentleness for kindness. “And yet again, I’m forced to comment on how you have such interesting hobbies.”

You press deeper into the tree, even if a knot digs into your back. “This….” You pause, trying to find your voice. Do you run? “This isn’t a hobby. I’m merely studying.”

Alastor drops a bag on the ground. It looks heavy. “A man?”

“A cadaver,” you say, careful to keep your voice steady. You cannot let this man see any cracks. “They’re already dead, aren’t they? Wouldn’t it be a waste to let them rot like this? At least now, their sorry lives will be making a meaningful contribution.”

The admission of your crime was easy to say. You don’t want to know what that means about you.

Alastor laughs. It’s not that breathy and light laugh he had earlier. This one is lighter, more elated. “Please, tell me more.”

You harden your heart, searching for any speck of bravery. “Why would I?”

Alastor smiles until his teeth show. The moon makes his brown eyes glow—you did not think it would be such an attractive color. “I’m the one holding the large knife.”

You glance at his hand, and oh…that indeed is quite a large knife. It’s not even a kitchen knife, but a proper hunting blade meant to kill. “I see you’re resorting to threats,” you say and you don’t know why you do. It’s not really a smart idea. “I did not think you, a man, would feel the need to say such things to a woman.”

“That was barely a threat,” he says. “I’m just curious to know your motivation to dig up trash.”

“I’m studying—that’s my reason.”

Alastor waves the knife as he talks. “Are there no other dead bodies for you to prey on?” he says. “Don’t hospitals have an area specifically to keep the dead?”

“Only morticians or medical students are allowed access,” you say. “I am neither.”

“Why not become one then?”

“Women as doctors are still a relatively new phenomena,” you say. “There is not a single medical school in this area that will allow me to study, nor are there any that won’t bring me into debt.” Your blood boils and it replaces your thumping heart. It still beats in your chest, but it’s not because of fear. “I needed to find a way to learn, to study, and textbooks could only describe it in words. I want to see for myself.”

Alastor plays with the tip of the knife. “Sounds like a classic case of lusting for knowledge.”

“If lust is to be my sin,” you start and a wonky smile appears on your face, “pride would be yours. A classic case of judge, jury and executioner.”

“I do not need to explain myself to you.”

“Well, you are holding the larger knife,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Anything more you’d like to know?”

Alastor hums at you. “How did you figure it out?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” you say, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. “You should buy suspicious items at different times and places. Your turn—How did you know I was here?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” he echoes laughing like he’s told the funniest joke. “You shouldn’t have told me where you lived so easily. I thought I would have to hang around your clinic for a few days before I got your address.”

“I made sure to be careful.”

“You weren’t in the slightest,” he tells you. “Even an animal is harder to track. It was quite a surprise to see you heading in this direction.”

“Wait…,” you say slowly. “Hang around the clinic? You…you were stalking me?”

“I wouldn’t say stalking,” he says, putting his arms up. “And if we’re pointing fingers, you would have had to follow me around for a few days to learn where I buried my trash.”

Your eyes drift to his bag, and then to his knife. Realization hits you like a cruel bus. You face heat. “You!”

“Me?”

“You lied to me!” you say, venom lacing your words as you puff. “You had no business in the area, nor did you randomly spot me! You followed to kill me, didn't you?”

Alastor smiles at you.

“Oh my God!” you scream at him, throwing your arms into the air. You point at him, glaring “You’re still going to kill me?”

“I can’t exactly let you leave, my dear,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What did you think?”

You stare down at him from your nose. “Don’t be so brainless,” you spit, crossing your arms. “If you would use this thing on your head called a, ‘brain’, and use it to think, you would be able to deduce that you’re currently not in cuffs.”

Alastor glares back at you, tightening his grip on the knife. You don’t give a single flying fuck.

“Since you are adamant on not using your brain, I shall do so for you,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “If I wanted to rat you out to the coppers, wouldn’t I have done so already? Hmmmm?”

“Don’t speak to me as if I am a child.”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you aren’t thinking like one,” you say. “Why would I tattle on someone for giving me what I want.”

 Alastor gives you a dry smile. “So much sarcasm to the person who does so.”

You cross your arms and lean against the tree. “I suppose I should be thanking you.”

“Will you?”

“No,” you say. “I don’t thank liars.”

You smile to yourself when Alastor rolls his eyes and furrows his brow. That strained smile of his is an extra bonus.

“If you’re going to kill me, be quick with it,” you say. “I’d like to die with my dignity as a lady.”

“How curious,” he says. “You’re not going to try and run? Fight me off in some clever way? Those are always the best kinds of hunts.”

You roll your eyes, making a point to show him that you are doing so. “That would be a waste of our time, wouldn’t it? And I think you’ll forgive me if I am not exactly keen on giving my murderer the satisfaction of experiencing ‘the best kinds of hunt’.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light this time. He tosses the knife into the trees and puts his arms up as if surrendering. “It seems you have made me change my mind,” he says. “Not many are able to do so—especially not when I’ve settled on a hunt.”

“What an honor then,” you say, smiling dryly.

“Indeed, it is.” He takes a step forward, and when you don’t run, he walks to you and brushes stray dirt off your shoulders.

“Why change your mind?”

He smiles, inching closer to you.  That is for me to know,” he says. “But, what I will say is I know potential when I see it.”

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“Someone, please, kill me again!” Angel Dust massages his forehead with one arm, using the other to empty the bottle. His third arm reaches into the bar shelves for a new one. You stare at his arms and wonder just how it got to be so long. “You’ve got to be shiting me right now. That’s your example? That’s your final answer?”

You pick at the wooden table, suddenly finding it hard to meet his eyes “Yes…?”

Angel Dust chugs his bottle at your answer. Mimzy avoids direct eye contact, choosing to study her empty glass. Even Sir Pentious keeps his gaze locked to the floor.. You bite on your cheek, letting out a soft huff.

If they didn’t want to know, they should not have asked.

“Out of all the misery he’s caused and will be causing,” Angel Dust says, “you think that Freaky ly’in to you about his reason for walking you home was the best possible example.”

“Yes?”

Angel Dust takes a deep breath. “Let’s be clear, okay? I’ll rephrase what I said, so listen closely,” he says. “Alastor lied about – and let me get this right—he lied to you about why he was in the area, and that’s why – hold on, bear with me – and that is why you were angry.”

You cross your arms, huffing a bit. “You make it sound stupid.”

Mimzy sighs, shaking her head with amusement. “That’s because it is, darling.”

“It is not!” you say, pouting. “It’s a very valid reason to be cross.”

Angel Dust takes another swig of his bottle. “It’s the fact that you weren’t angry that he was going to murder you in cold blood for me.”

You throw your arms into the air. “Okay, so it might not have been the best example,” you say, tapping your legs. “But that isn’t exactly my fault. Alastor is strangely honest.”

Angel Dust gapes at you. “No, he is not!”

“I don’t know, hun,” Mimzy says, leaning against the bar table. “Alastor kina is.”

“You won’t get the truth if you don’t ask,” you say, nodding your head. “And when you do ask, Alastor will either say the full horrifying truth, say it in a way that’s vague but still considered to be true, or dodge and not answer your question.”

Sir Pentious tilts his head, and he keeps a hand on his hat to keep it from falling. “And that is why we should not trust him?”

“There is no we, my dear,” you say. “That’s why you shouldn’t trust him.”

The hotel trembles.

You startle in your seat, gripping the table for stability. Mimzy clutches your arm, and you grab hers. It’s a small reassuring gesture that would make you smile at any other moment. Someone pounds on the door. You snap your head towards the entrance, nearly giving yourself whiplash. The hinges creak with every bang, and you watch with horror as the wooden frame begins to crack. Whatever wants to go in is determined to do so.

“MIMZY! We know you’re in there, you lousy bitch!”

You lock eyes with Mimzy, glaring at her with bristled feathers. “Really?”

“Whooops…?” she says with the most innocent smile. You grab your glass and throw it at her head. Mimzy snarls at you, searching for a stray bottle. She never finds it.

Glass rains down to the floor. Dust fills the space, and you cough when it irritates your throat. The whole hotel is in disarray. With a yelp, you jump away from the bar when one of the bone heads detaches and crushes your seat.

Mimzy scurries behind the bar.

A portal rips open in the middle of the room…Huh, that’s pretty cool. Vaggie steps out, Lucifer and Charlie behind her. “What is going on?”

Mimzy explains what she did. You roll your eyes when she does.

Fireballs shoot out the broken windows.

Motherfucker! You are going to kill Mimzy. You press against the wall to avoid Sir Pentious’ long tail from smacking into you as he slithers about. Angel Dust scurried away at the first sign of trouble. Of-fucking-course this happens today. Niffty scurries about, cleaning every debris in sight, You grab her by the collar, pulling her away from a stray fire. Niffty squirms out of your hold, and hops away. Another fireball keeps you from pursuing her.

“We’re under siege!” Sir Pentious exclaims, slithering about. “Take cover!”

Alastor pops out of your shadow, jerking your arm to pull you away.

You flap your arms to regain your balance.

Alastor keeps a steady hand on your shoulder, his hold on you firm. His touch keeps you grounded. Your eyes flutter to where you pressed against the wall, but Alastor pokes your cheek with the tips of your fingers, nudging your face to keep your eyes on him. The hotel burns in chaos, and you dig your fingers into the fabric of his coat.

Alastor holds your gaze. He smiles at you softly, but you see the hardness in his eyes and the tension is his jaw. 

You try to give him your best smile. “Much better?”

“No, not in the slightest” he says, eyes squinting into a harsh glare. Alastor doesn’t frown, but his teeth bare into a snarl. “Are you hurt?”

The hotel trembles, and more fire crashes through the windows. 

You try to turn to the chaos around you, but Alastor leans to the side, blocking the surroundings with his face. “I’d like an answer.”

He smoothes the feathers on your hair, and you lean into his hold, shaking your head. “Not a single feather out of place,” you say. “Thank you, my deerest.”

The hotel trembles once more, but you keep your gaze locked into Alastor’s.

“All of you get a safe distance,” Vaggie says, spear raised.” I’ll take care of this.”

 Satisfied, Alastor drops his hand from your head and turns to the door. “No, my dear. Leave it to me.” Radio static warps the air around you. His eyes morph into radio dials. “It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.” He has the smile on his face—that same smile that tell you he’s on the hunt. It makes you buzz.

Mimzy pops her head out.  “Ugh, finally!” she says, rolling her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

Tendrils shoot out of Alastor’s back and it waves around the air as if owning a mind of its own. His bones break with audible cracks to adjust to his expanding size. “A reminder to all, not to mess with the radio demon!” His teeth stick out when he smiles, and the little ‘x’ on his forehead appears.

Alastor laughs and begins his kill.

You rush out when your husband crawls out the broken doors, bolting from the bar and out the entrance. You watch Alastor. He grabs a shark with the tips of his fingers and uses the others to pull him apart, slowly, painfully, with a grin.

“Mimzy…” you say, slowly.

Mimzy shrinks next to you. “…Yeah?”

Alastor’s nails elongate and he pierces the shark, letting his blood trail down, reveling in his screams. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.”

A leg sails across the air, it’s bone sticking out. You smile to yourself as Alastor hunts down his prey. Blood paints the flowers red when his tendrils wag like a happy tail.

You’re faintly aware of Lucifer and Charlie arguing behind you.

The show is over too soon.

Alastor shrinks, twirls his microphone and stretches.

Mimzy runs, the first to approach Alastor. You don’t hear a word they’re saying, but Mimzy jabs her fingers into his coat. She leaves with a frown and a middle finger pointed at him.

You walk closer to your husband, a smile on your face. Alastor inches to you, bending close enough for you to reach his bowtie. The fabric is smooth against your fingers as your straighten it for him. “Much better?” you ask.

“Indeed.”

“You put up quite the show,” you tell him. “You looked absolutely riveting, my deer.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and he offers his arm, guiding you back into the hotel. “Did I?”

“You always do, my love.”

And oh…

Another song.

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Lucifer leaves, taking his singing with him.

As quietly as possible, you grab your belongings and check that nothing is missing: wallet, flip-phone, bus card, pieces of mint, various essential items, and lastly, your umbrella. You step out of what is left of the Hazbin Hotel’s front doors and stifle a yawn. Today’s excitement has gone on for too long. It was time to go home.

Drops of acid fall from the sky, a light drizzle forming. It was a good idea to stash that umbrella in your bag.

Alastor slithers out of your shadow, and covers your heads with an umbrella. “Did you happen to forget your umbrella?”

You force a sheepish smile on your lips. “I did, actually,” you lie to him. “But a walk seems rather lovely today.”

Alastor twirls the umbrella, his smile widening. “May I join you for your walk?”

“Are you not still working?” You glance behind you, observing the hotel.

Angel Dust sweeps glass off the carpet. He steals glances from time to time, trying his hardest to avoid looking in your direction—he doesn’t try hard enough. Your eyes meet, and you brush your stray feathers from your hair. A not so subtle way of showing off your ring. You stick out your tongue.

Angel Dust laughs, shaking his head with amusement.

Alastor adjusts the umbrella, angling it to block the prying eyes from inside the hotel. He raises his eyebrows, looking at you with a questionable glance.

You offer your most innocent smile. “I think they’re going to need a new door.”

“I think it’s time I clocked out,” he sys, inching the umbrella closer. “I shouldn’t have them getting too dependent on me.”

“Are those not grounds for prime picking?”

“I wouldn’t exactly be a doting husband if I left my wife to walk alone in the rain,” Alastor tells you.

“Doting husband?”

He nods, leaning closer to you. “Yes. Was that not your condition for our marriage?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, humming a bit. “I do not remember saying that at all.”

“Well, it wasn’t for you to remember,” he says. “And in any case, I did not call you to the hotel to prepare for some party.”

“Then why did you call me here?”

Alastor meets your eyes and his smile widens. “Allow me to join you, and you shall find out.”

“You’ve piqued my interest, deerest,” you say. “The best walks are usually the ones that are shared. It doesn’t hurt that you have an umbrella.”

“What would you do without me?”

You roll your eyes, and take a step closer. “You always seem to remember for me.”

Alastor fiddles with the umbrella. “What did you do for several years—get pelted by acid?”

“You would know the answer to that had you been present for those years,” you say and you don’t fight the coy smile that forms on your lips.

Alastor hums in displeasure. “Well, in any case, I only have this one umbrella.”

“I guess we’ll have to share.”

“Yes, it seems we will.”

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his. He doesn’t need to take precautions to ensure your clothes stay dry nor do you have to for his own attire, not when you press closely against each other. The umbrella covers the both of you just right.

You rest your head on his arm. It’s nice. Warm. Even if it was as thick as a stick. His bones press into your cheek. Your eyes flutter into a close… just… one… second…

Your knees buckle causing you to trip.

A frim grab of your waist keeps you from the ground. Your nose crinkles when you collide with Alastor’s chest. Finding strength in your legs, you dig your foot into the ground and stand.

Alastor keeps his hold on your waist steady, and you don’t move from his hold.

“Before you say anything—you are not fine,” he says. “I don’t want to hear anything else but an agreement.”

You peel your face from his chest, meeting his eyes to give him the brightest smile you can muster. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “It seems…It seems it will be my turn to postpone our outing today,” you say. “The excitement of the day seems to be catching up to me.”

You fell asleep while walking,” he says. “If it was not for me, you would be on the pavement.”

“Then it is a good thing I am no longer alone.”

A single tendril emerges from his back. It wraps around the umbrella’s handle, keeping it secured over your heads.

Alastor’s hand shifts from your waist to your back. You feel his other arm snaking down your legs, trailing your skin until he reaches the back of your knees.

Alastor lifts you like a bride.

Well, you actually are a bride…his bride, specifically.

Alastor continues the walk, holding you in his arms. You lean into him, and he places a chin on your head. “Your pointy chin is poking me, my deerest,” you say but you don’t move to push him off. “It’s digging into my scalp.

His chest rise and fall as he laughs, and you feel every bit of it against your cheek. “I could always drop you right over this puddle.”

“That wouldn’t really be part of the doting husband image, would it?” you say chuckling into his suit.

“No, I guess it would not.”

Smiling to yourself, you nuzzle deeper into the crook of his neck. “Hey, Al,” you mumble softly, “tell me a story.”

At the corner of your eyes, you see Alastor glance at you. His gaze lasts a second before he turns back ahead.  “It was 1929,” he says. “The beginning of the glorious Great Depression.”

You roll your eyes even if he doesn’t see it. “You are the only one I know who calls the Great Depression ‘glorious’. People were starving, and we almost got fired from our jobs.”

“That’s because it was a great year.”

“Because you got to see the sufferings of the masses?” You laugh softly. “That’s definitely something you would do. I can practically hear you laughing at the way they try to claw their way out of misery, only to fail spectacularly.”

“Because we got married that year,” he says. Even if you’re wearing a coat, and Alastor wears his gloves. Even with layers of cloth between your skin, you still feel the way Alastor caress your with his thumb. “Can I continue my story now or would you like to bicker about your failing memory?”

“Continue.”

“So, the start of the glorious Great Depression,” he says. “That day, I saw an ad for the local zoo. I wasn’t doing anything important, so I decided to support my local animals.”

“How kind of you,” you say, stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it was,” he says. “I stalk through the animals. Looking at every malnourished species they kept locked up—”

“You get to the alligator enclosure and to this day, swear that you saw it do a backflip,” you mumble softly, eyes dropping. “That’s pretty good for someone you claim to possess failing memories.”

“Alright then. I shall find another.” Alastor hums as he thinks, and his chest vibrates as he does. “Summer of 1916–long before I met you.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you say, huffing. “I’m well aware of the year we met, my deer. So, Summer of 1916?”

“It was a dark and stormy night. Weird for the summer seasons. Usually, the house becomes a furnace, but it was terribly cold,” Alastor tells you. “During that second night of the hurricane, a knock sounds from the door.”

“Oh… I’ve heard this as well.” You pick on the lapels of Alastor’s coat, tracing the white lines.

“You have?” Alastor raises his eyebrows

“Yes, it was your neighbor. His tree fell into the window and you and your mother ended up sheltering him for the night,” you say. “Then, you’ll tell me that he gifted you three pounts of cheese the next week.”

“I guess there’s nothing left to tell.”

You lean back to meet his eyes. They’re no longer brown. Once, a long time ago, you thought it was your favorite color. Now, you don’t think you’ve ever had a favorite color. You just liked his color. “Nonsense,” you says. “We are definitely not that old. I’m sure there should be be at least a few.”

“Alright, this one began fifteen years ago,” he says, tightening his grip on you. “I was waiting outside St. An’s, and a Sinner came out. It was my first time seeing a cow. It was quite a conundrum because — Oh, I think you’ve heard this already. Have you?”

Your eyelids are heavy. “I have.”

“And you choose not to inform me?”

“Can you tell it to me again?” You sink deeper into his hold.

“Of course, my love.”

Alastor’s steps lag until he comes to a full stop. He holds you in his gaze as the acid rain splatters grow stronger. It’s just you and him in this tiny bubble of an umbrella.

His eyes flicker, touching every inch of this scene. You do not know what he is thinking.

“Are you alright, my love?” you find yourself asking.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m just…trying not to waste, that’s all.”

“Come on,” you say in a voice that is oh so soft.

Alastor continues his story. You don’t hear the end of it.

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Next Part: | Part 4: The Radio Stars' Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| I am excited to know what you guys think about this chapter. My replies and inbox are always open for any questions. I always get so happy to see my notifications. It's a bit addicting actually. Thank you to everyone who has interacted with this story. Every like, reblog, and reply means so much to me. Part 4 will be poasted as soon as possible