#ha/zbin ho/tel

[bigoted-chicken]

Ha//zbin Ho//tel - Out For Love (A Zestmilla Story)

I don't have much else to say other than.... Zestmilla supremacy

Also this is featuring some HCs I have for Carmilla's backstory so that's some fun shit. I may actually write a normal fic elaborating on those little details.

Anyway I am very tired and my brain is soup so please enjoy

===

“Hh-! HiiHZzz’chuu!!”

“Señora Carmine?”

“What?”

Carmilla turned around sharply to face the tiny Imp servant that was standing in the doorway to her bedroom holding a silver tray with a single lacey handkerchief folded on top. In her momentary lapse of focus, the pearl necklace she’d been fumbling with for the last ten minutes slipped out of her large hands and she had to bite back a sharp foreign curse word.

“Señorita Clara and Señorita Odette requested that I bring this to you,” the servant said, holding out the tray to her.

She narrowed her eyes down at the Imp, reluctantly taking the handkerchief and folding it into the hidden breast pocket of her dress, refusing to let one of her underlings see her in such a vulnerable moment as blowing her nose.

“Thank you, Lester, that will be all,” she said in a croaky voice, clearing her throat as the servant scampered out of the room.

Carmilla bent down and picked the necklace off the ground, going back to trying to fasten together the two tiny chains with her giant fingers that seemed unnaturally shaky today. Her hands were normally as steady as you would expect from an expert markswoman like herself, but the rising pressure behind her eyes and the light goosebumps forming on her shoulders were spelling doom for the evening she had planned with Zestial.

Even though Zestial was as close to retired as an Overlord of Hell could be, the same couldn’t be said for Carmilla. Despite her best efforts to stay in touch with her oldest and closest friend, with her busy schedule loaded with overseeing turf wars, managing her many factories and warehouses, doing arms deals, and dodging the occasional assassination attempt, it felt like the only times lately that her and Zestial got to spend a peaceful moment together were in the brief hour or two after Overlord meetings when they enjoyed a cup of tea and shared news from their respective territories – until inevitably her attention would be called away because of some brand new fire she had to put out. She could have possibly gotten away with calling Overlord meetings more often and coming up with increasingly contrived reasons to hold them, but having to deal with the Vees’ tomfuckery every single meeting made the idea absolutely not worth it.

With that in mind, she was both surprised and incredibly grateful when Zestial approached her and asked if she would meet him for a nice quiet evening under the light of the full moon in the human world. Carmilla had initially wanted to refuse, not wanting to put him through that kind of trouble, but he assured her that she was worth the effort and no expense would be spared, and when she really considered it she decided that an opportunity like this would likely not present itself again. So now here she was, still fumbling with her necklace and about five seconds away from abandoning it all together out of frustration.

“Mamá? Do you need help?” She recognized the voice of her daughter Odette and turned to see her standing exactly where the Imp servant had been standing a few minutes ago.

Carmilla sighed. “You’re welcome to try if you must.”

Odette approached her mother silently and gently took the back clasps from her, easily fastening them together, meanwhile Carmilla felt a slowly building pressure in her sinuses that bloomed into an itch that had become all too familiar to her that day.

“Hah-! HAATZzz’chu!”

“Salud,” Odette said.

“Thank you, cariño…” Carmilla groaned, reaching for the handkerchief in her pocket and dabbing at her leaking nostrils, praying to whatever God had abandoned them that her makeup wouldn’t start running now of all times.

“Mom, are you sure that you’re okay…?” She hadn’t even noticed Clara also enter the room, standing a foot or two behind her sister. “I’m sure Zestial will understand if you’re not feeling well.”

“I agree with Clara, you look and sound… well, with all due respect, terrible,” Odette added.

Carmilla was about to deliver a sharp retort to her two well-meaning daughters, as least as sharp as it could be through the increasing brain fog, when a familiar meek voice spoke up.

“Señora Carmine…?” 

“What!?” Thoroughly irritated, Carmilla snapped at Lester who now stood in the doorway again with his hands folded behind his back.

The poor imp trembled like his boss was about to drive one of the angelic spears displayed on the wall into his neck. “U-Uhm… Lord Zestial has arrived…”

“...Oh.”

Totally ignorant to the happenings between Carmilla and her daughters, Hell’s oldest Overlord waited at the entrance to the Carmine mansion, hands folded to his sides, towering over any servant who dared cross his path. Though he could have walked in the door and perhaps would have faced no repercussions, it would have been most ungentlemanly to do such a thing -- even with as close as they were and as long as they’d known each other.

Assuming nobody had let things slip -- and they seldom let things slip, for no one dared to find out what would happen once they went against Zestial’s wishes -- then he had only to follow his previously-determined plan today. His goal today was simple: win Carmilla over, loosen her up a little, then find out for sure whether the way she felt about him was the same way he felt about her.

Almost a minute had passed and there was still no sign of Carmilla, when the weapons Overlord seemed to magically appear at the top of the staircase and began to descend it; though she tried to remain poised there was an undeniable energy of almost childlike excitement when she saw Zestial waiting in the foyer.

“Zestial, it’s wonderful to see you my friend,” she acknowledged once they were an appropriate distance apart. “You look quite dashing – I’m glad to see I did not in fact overdress.”

Her fellow Overlord returned her greeting with the lightest smile. “Few would wish to underdress for a night in thine presence,” he said with a chuckle. “Has thy day treated thou kindly so far?”

Carmilla smiled as they left the Carmine manor side-by-side. “Compared to every other day this week it has actually been, though I’d argue that isn’t a high bar to reach,” she let out a light cough, disguising it as a simple clearing of the throat in acknowledgement of her comment. “I am grateful to have been able to set aside this evening though.”

“Likewise,” Zestial replied. “I hope thou have prepared thineself for an evening to remember; before I begin, it must be asked for the sake of convenience and leisure: wouldst thou care to join me for a ride down the Styx?”

“If you’re offering, I would love to,” she gingerly hooked her left arm with his right, casting a brief glance at the inside of her home and catching sight of her daughter’s concerned faces before she closed the door. “I just hope that you haven’t gone and spent too much money on me tonight, Zestial,” she said with a slightly coy smile.

“What is too much money when one has the sway of an overlord?” said Zestial, dodging the question almost outright. “Come, now; thou willst find it a grand day once our trip doth concludes. Dare I spoil the end to say: thou willst find the river to only be the beginning of what I have in store.”

“Well in that case, it’s best that we don’t delay,” Carmilla said, in her head wondering how she ever managed to find such a kind and gentlemanly soul in this festering hellhole.

“Agreed.” Without further hesitation, Zestial and his old friend began to walk arm-in-arm to their destination, enjoying the sights -- as otherwise bleak as they were. Zestial could swear that he had just witnessed someone jump off a building in the distance -- and somebody else was eating what looked to be their own mother. Yes, it was a normal day in Hell -- of that, there was no doubt.

Though far from atypical, the usual goings-on of Hell were not about to get in the way of Zestials’ plans. His servants were already aware of his desire to head into the human world once he and Carmilla reached the end of Styx -- and if anything were to get in his way…well, nobody was willing to let that happen. Perhaps the only person who could reverse his plans at this point was Carmilla herself.

The two overlords chatted casually about this and that for several blocks, willfully ignoring the screams of agony that followed their path, Zestial sharing news about some freshly fallen souls he’d managed to rope into a contract, Carmilla venting about the shenanigans her daughters had been up to recently in their apparent efforts to give their immortal mother a heart attack. They were near the entrance to Cannibal Town when Carmilla suddenly turned away, pulling her arm out of Zestial’s. At first he was worried he’d said something that offended her, but then he saw her withdraw the lace handkerchief.

“My apologies,” she said with a sniffle that sounded wetter than she wanted it to. “I’m not sure why but my sinuses have been acting up something fierce lately – my guess is the pollen count must be on the rise…”

“Dost thou need a moment?” her companion inquired. “Thy time may be limited, but I am willing to look away while thou handles thyself.”

“Thank you…” Although blowing her nose in front of Zestial wasn’t much less embarrassing than doing it in front of her servants, she could at least trust that he would never take advantage of her perceived weakness.

With that in mind, she cupped the lace handkerchief over her nose and let out a loud and frankly disgusting sounding blow that guaranteed there was no chance she was putting that thing back in her pocket. It was all for naught anyway, because her sinuses stayed clear for a grand total of two seconds before a sudden tickle lit her nostrils aflame and pushed out all thoughts that had nothing to do with stopping the impending sneeze in its tracks.

Standing just beside her, uncertain if she was finished, Zestial took a gander over his shoulder to see the bridge of Carmilla’s nose wrinkling as she hid the rest of her face from him. “Ist thou alright--?”

“I–...” Carmilla couldn’t hold back a sneeze to save her life, she knew that already, her daughters knew that, Zestial probably knew that too, but knowing that still didn’t stop her from trying. “Ih... Ihh’m – fhhiih – hh! HHEZZz’Chuu! Jesucristo… ‘Scuse m’be…”

Her outburst left Zestial initially uncertain how to follow up -- whether that be with silence or with a culturally-appropriate response. “Salud, dear,” he finally said after much deliberation. “Dost thou know for certain if thine ailment is the result of pollen, or mayhaps something else?” For the first time in what seemed to be decades, the Overlord felt the slightest twinge of anxiety right after saying that -- as if worried that he had just asked the wrong question.

“I’m fine, Zestial, I promise,” she dismissed him rather quickly, folding the handkerchief over so the gross part wasn’t visible but so that it still had at least one more good use in it. “I’m not sure what came over me there but I swear it’s nothing. We should go or we’re going to be late.”

The truth of the matter was that Carmilla would say she was fine whether she actually was or not.

While not totally convinced, Zestial nodded in agreement. “Thou makest a good point; let us continue.” With that, he held his arm out for Carmilla to interlock hers with before they went on their way to the Styx. They began to walk up a subtle incline -- one which Carmilla did not notice until Zestial had pointed it out -- for it was this incline which allowed the Styx to flow as naturally as it did from one base to another. He understood this to be a little counter-intuitive, given that they were going to be transported far above everything else once they made their way down, but such thoughts only sprung up in his mind as a result of planning this event for over two months.

The only thing he had not fully decided yet was where to ask. It made all too much sense to inquire on the status of their relationship while they were going down a river -- but a river in Hell? It seemed like too much of a gamble that something would go awry. Meanwhile, the thought of opening up to her in the human world had less potential for things going wrong, but there were few places there that he knew very well -- and there was always a high possibility that something may have changed since the last time he was in the human world.

By the time they were nearly to the peak where one of Zestial’s servants was waiting, Zestial thought he could hear a wavering breath coming from the Overlord at his side. “Carmilla?” he began, taking a look down. “Ist thy nose causing trouble again?”

“J-Just a tad,” she sniffled, hoping it was just a passing tickle.

The short walk up the shallow incline would have normally been no issue for her, but as they reached the peak the weapons Overlord found herself feeling winded, her normally impeccable balance wavered ever so slightly and she had to resist the desire to lean against Zestial: Not only because she didn’t want to risk knocking over her spindly friend with her denser body weight, but because if she did he would almost certainly have felt the unnatural heat beginning to creep on her skin.

Just as they reached the peak of the hill and their boat was in sight, Carmilla’s hitching breaths suddenly crescendoed. She spun away from Zestial yet again, managing to bring the crook of her elbow up to her face, but just as they both expected a thunderous expulsion, her shoulders relaxed and she sheepishly turned back around to face the confused servant and a clearly concerned Zestial.

To that, Zestial couldn’t help but chuckle: a sound which would have stopped the hearts of those who were not within his social circle. “Were I the air itself, I would know better than to irritate thee in such a bothersome way,” he quipped.

Carmilla couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment, an action which shifted the congestion settling in her chest and forced her to swallow down a bit of phlegm that her body desperately wanted to cough up. She could only hope that Zestial wouldn’t notice that she’d been clearing her throat every five minutes now, and it was starting to get to a point where the little ‘hem hem’s weren’t enough to satisfy the itch in the back of her throat.

Before she could think of uttering another word, the servant at the boat spoke up. “Mister Zestial, Senoria Carmilla,” he began, bowing to each of them. “Your ride is ready for the two of you whenever.”

“Very good. Thou mayst leave us.”

Without any further prompting from Zestial, the imp gave one last bow before leaving the scene, leaving the boat suspended by a rope which anchored it to the support in the ground by Zestial and Carmilla’s feet. Once assured they were all by themselves, Zestial gestured to the boat, a glowing green grin turning up the pitch-black features of his face. “After thee, milady.”

Carmilla smiled warmly at him, placing one hand in his to steady herself as she stepped into the boat. For a brief moment there was the worry that her pointed angelic steel-tipped shoes would break right through the wooden hull but those fears proved to be unfounded. However, as she lowered herself down onto the seat, there was a subtle but noticeable tremor in her legs that was unbecoming of her usual poise and grace. She wouldn’t admit it but she was glad to finally be able to sit down and take some of the pressure off of her aching body, however short lived it would be before they reached their destination.

Zestial spoke not another word as he began to lower himself into the boat, as well, his movement precise and deliberate as always. There was just enough space between the two of them to cozy up to each other without feeling too cramped for space -- like slipping a millimeter either way would capsize the boat.

Once assured that they were secure, Zestial undid the knot on the rope that held them in place -- and within seconds, they began to drift off. Zestial was quick to grab the oar that had been left by the riverside before they got too far away -- before the river widened from its initial creek-like start.

“Zestial – I’ve been thinking,” Carmilla suddenly spoke up after only a couple minutes of drifting along the river’s current. “Not to imply that I’m not appreciative of getting to spend time with you like this, but it all just feels like… a lot… I mean, the boat ride, the trip to the human world… You know that I’m not the type of woman to ask for too much, especially from you…”

For once, Zestial initially found himself unsure how to immediately respond to her comment. “Ist…this fair trip truly ‘too much?’” he asked, partly to himself. “Mayhaps I misunderstood; I would not have done this for thee if I did not desire to, and such plans do not stretch my reach as an Overlord, thou must understand.”

“No, no, it isn’t too much…!” she frantically tried to reassure him as she reached out to touch his shoulder, worried she’d upset her friend without meaning to. “It’s just–... I suppose it’s more than I’ve gotten used to for a long time now… I haven’t had a man go out of his way like this for me since, well, Ernesto…”

Hearing Carmilla speak her late ex-husband’s name for the first time in years was enough to make Zestial’s heart skip a beat. With such mention, Zestial had better context to her current state of mind -- for she must have felt some kind of way about him if she were willing to speak Ernesto’s name now of all times.

The two of them were quiet for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before Zestial spoke up again. “All is well, Carmilla,” he replied with a smile as he went on to reiterate, “What we do today requires but a flick of a wrist for me to set into action. Many thinketh it difficult to make such plans for thy day, and I understand why thee would believest the same, but I do what I do for good reasons.”

The two Overlords sat there in silence for a moment, silence buzzing between them the way static fills the air right before a strike of lightning. There was only the sound of their breathing overlaced with the lapping of water as Zestial continued to hold the oar in his lap, letting the current take them down at a steady, gradual pace. 

“And… what is that reason…?” Carmilla finally asked.

After facing forward for the last minute, Zestial turned his gaze to Carmilla. “I was saving the moment for when we were among the human world,” he began, withdrawing a sigh as he looked away just as briefly as he’d turned his gaze toward Carmilla. “Mine days grow longer the more I delay the truth to thine ears, but thou art my closest companion and thou deservest to know: I--”

Carmilla interrupted him with a sudden sharp intake of air that made Zestial think for a moment she had hurt herself somehow.

“Hh-! HeiiHHZZZ’Chuu! Hah’ZZZChuu!” She snapped forward with two violently rough sneezes that came dangerously close to displacing the already fragile weight distribution in the boat and causing them to capsize. Immediately afterwards she tried taking in a deep breath, but there was an audible crack of congestion in her throat followed by her doubling over into the crook of her elbow to cough and hack her brains out.

The coughing lasted for almost ten solid seconds straight until she practically sounded like she was choking, and when she finally managed to spit the phlegm blocking her airways into her handkerchief, she slowly unfolded her body, taking in a slow labored inhale like she was testing the waters with her breathing. There was now an obvious pale yellow flush dusting her cheeks, but whether it was from embarrassment, fever, or the straining from the fit she just had, was unclear.

Unable to get a word out, Zestial stared back at Carmilla in awe, almost forgetting for a moment that they were still in a boat. “Thou dost not seem well…” he began. “Perhaps we shall end this journey for now.”

“N-No…! I promise I’m – I’m fine…” she punctuated her sentence with a quick cough directed over her shoulder, her upper body swaying as if cocking her head to the side was enough to make her dizzy.

“It is not allergies that ail thee,” Zestial commented, practically ignoring Carmilla’s pleas. “Tell me: is it something else?”

Knowing that at this point she’d already been caught red-handed, rather than outright admitting it, Carmilla swallowed a lump forming in her throat and said in a vulnerable voice: “Zestial – please… You’ve already gone to such effort for me, I don’t want to ruin it because I’m… weak…”

“I could not fathom to let thee grow weaker.” Without further argument, Zestial dug his oar into the wet ground beneath the boat and pivoted their ride toward the edge of the river. From there, he stepped out, gripping the canoe’s hull as he pulled it partially onto solid earth. He then gestured Carmilla over with his free hand. “If thou wouldst please..”

She hesitated, wanting to still try to plead her case, but another sharp cough that rattled the inside of her chest gave her answer before she could. Once she composed herself enough, she reluctantly began stepping out of the boat. Unfortunately, she had stood up just a tad too quickly, all the blood in her body suddenly felt like it had pooled in her feet. She’d just barely gotten one leg out of the boat when everything around her started spinning and tilting to the side, and the next thing she knew she felt a pair of thin yet strong arms wrap around her body just before she hit the ground.

Like her, Zestial was caught off-guard by her sudden trip, not wanting to think of what would have happened if he had deliberated a moment further. “There, now,” he began, his voice low as if he were holding a kitten. “I dread to think what may have happened, had thou fallenest into the river in thy state.” He began to straighten himself as he continued to hold Carmilla upright, bringing her up with him. “Can thou walk without struggle?”

“I… I think so…” she said, slowly separating herself from Zestial and trying to take a few steps in a straight line, but her legs wobbled and she very nearly fell over again before his hands around her waist steadied her; she hadn’t felt this uncoordinated since the last time she went a little too hard on the Beelzejuice.

“Perhaps if we walk as we were before?” Zestial suggested, holding his arm out as he cast a smile down upon her. “As we had just before entering the boat?”

“M-Maybe…” she wheezed, trying her best to stand up straight with Zestial’s support but feeling like a melting ice cube trying to balance on the center of a metal tray – complete with chills radiating through her as if her blood had frozen in her veins.

After having already stopped their trip, Zestial sought no problem in checking Carmilla’s temperature as he rested his palm against her forehead.

Just by the look on his face, the dizzy Carmilla could tell he wasn’t pleased. “Thou art burning hot…” he mumbled. “I believe I should take thee to thy home. Please excuse me for what I am about to do.”

Before Carmilla could think to ask, Zestial bent down and hooked his arm beneath her legs before hoisting her off the ground entirely, carried aloft in his two arms like a feather.

“Zestial,” Carmilla moaned, yet made no real attempt to protest, every bone in her body focused on resisting the desire to bury her face in his chest and fall asleep like a child. “This is… unbecoming…”

“We’ll be out of the public eye soon enough,” he whispered, his voice dropping as low as hers. “I know a shortcut to thy residence.”

===

Back at the Carmine manor, Clara and Odette sat across from each other on different chairs in the family room that was an offshoot of the foyer. They were patiently waiting for the moment their mother and her hopefully soon-to-be boyfriend would return from their outing and they could get all the details. Clara sat with her legs crossed carefully polishing her collection of angelic steel daggers, while Odette flipped through pages on her clipboard reading over the company’s stock reports from the past month.

“So,” Odette broke the silence, pushing her glasses up on her face. “Do you really think Zestial is actually going to confess tonight…?”

“Oh, 100%,” Clara replied without hesitation, not even looking up from a particularly stubborn speck of dirt stuck to the blade she was cleaning. “He’s not even being subtle this time; I don’t know how mom hasn’t picked up on it at this point.”

“Do you think she’ll reciprocate?”

“Why wouldn’t she? They’ve known each other since before we were even born, she has a chair and a teacup reserved for him at the Overlord meetings, and c’mon, do you think she’d get all dressed up like that for him if she just saw him as a friend?”

Odette playfully rolled her eyes before going back to looking at her clipboard. “I think you read too much into things.”

Clara looked up from her daggers and gave her sister a crooked smirk. “I think you just have no imagination, Odie.”

The two girls were interrupted by a sharp knocking at the door. They were not expecting anyone to come visiting at this hour — especially when Zestial’s plans seemed to imply that they would be gone for hours. Clara immediately sprung up from her chair and went to answer the door, willfully ignoring one of Carmilla’s biggest rules about how “If I’m not home, don’t answer the door for anyone”.

“Hey! What are you guys doing back so–” Clara had initially cracked the door open by an inch then threw it open the rest of the way when she got a glimpse of Zestial’s cloak. “...Soon…”

Her face immediately paled upon seeing Zestial standing there cradling her mother’s body, for a split second she thought that she was dead before Carmilla sucked in a breath and muffled a series of coughs into her fist. Her first instinct was to assume they’d been attacked perhaps, but neither of them bore any visible wounds.

“W-What happened?” Clara asked, stepping aside to let Zestial in.

Their guest entered swiftly, his feet unseen beneath his robe. “Thy mother hast come down with a feverish plight,” he explained as he made his way to the nearest couch. “It wouldst be best if thee could find medicine for her, and mayhaps a thermometer for good measure.” 

“Shit – O-Okay…!” Clara ran off both to fetch the items he had requested and to relay the current situation to her sister.

As he approached the couch, he leaned in to Carmilla’s ear. “We are home now; shall I stay by thy side?”

“Mmm…” 

Carmilla made a soft indecipherable noise, apparently too tired to give a proper answer. Her one hand that gripped Zestial’s shoulder tightened its hold, like she wanted to stop him from slipping away from her so this feeling of their bodies being so close could last forever.

Though he hated to have to pull her away, Zestial eventually got down on his knees so that he could safely and comfortably roll her onto the couch -- after which he found a pillow for her to rest her head upon as she laid on her side. Her eyes were open just a crack, her nose had turned a light red, and her sweaty face still burned to the touch. In spite of her condition, she continued to hold a hand out, as if still believing Zestial’s shoulder to be nearby. Once he realized this, he took hold of her hand to, if nothing else, calm her nerves.

Clara and Odette soon came back into the room, Clara was holding a bottle of cold and flu medicine and a mercury thermometer with a washcloth slung over her shoulder, while Odette carried a small basin full of cold water. Watching the way that Zestial held their mother’s hand and gazed lovingly at her feverish face made Clara desperately wanna know if he’d at least gotten the chance to confess that he’d been hoping for, but obviously now was not the most appropriate time to ask.

Realizing that her sister had taken to just staring instead of actually helping, Odette set down the basin by the couch and then took the rest of the supplies from her.

“Here,” Odette said, handing the thermometer to Zestial since he was the one hovering right over Carmilla.

“I thank thee,” he said before slipping the thermometer between their mother’s lips. After a few seconds, he retracted the device and read the number on it out loud: “One hundred and three.”

“Crap,” Clara huffed, peering over Zestial’s shoulder. “We knew she wasn’t feeling well before she left but – we didn’t think it’d get this bad so quickly… Odie, you think we can get her upstairs to her room together?”

“Unlikely,” Odette said. “Mother easily has over 100lbs on the both of us combined, coupled with the fact she’s barely conscious right now, we’d be hard pressed getting her up the stairs alone.”

“Allow me, then,” said Zestial as he set the thermometer in Clara’s hand and slipped his arms beneath Carmilla’s body. With little effort, he hoisted her up once again. “Thou needn’t accompany me,” he went on, “I know where her room is.”

The girls looked at each other with slight apprehension before silently nodded in agreement.

“O-Okay, we’ll just bring this stuff up later,” Clara said. “But let us know if you need any help, okay?”

“I will do,” Zestial affirmed before making his way to the staircase. Though he could only assume Carmilla’s opinion on him going into her room when she was only half-consciously with him, he bit the bullet and stepped inside once he was at the door.

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly murmured, sniffling as he approached her bed. “I know I disgust you right now…”

Hearing her speak almost made him flinch. It took a second for him to understand what she was referring to, at which point he shook his head. “Pish posh, dear -- I have been disgusted by professionals; thou dost not disgust me in the slightest, even in thy current state.”

With the way she was now, however, it was clear that she was still far from comfortable -- and how could one be comfortable wearing the kind of things she did? Just looking at her in spite of her illness, it was clear to him that she had overdressed for this occasion -- and very deliberately so. Even the knots she usually tied her hair in seemed to cause discomfort for his fellow Overlord, as she would occasionally turn her head, only for her tied-up hair to smack a part of the bed frame.

Once he placed her down upon her mattress, Zestial moved to a spot on the bed adjacent to her and began to undo the many knots keeping her hair up in the unnatural form it had currently taken. Undoing the knots caused her hair to fall over her face and her backside in a way that let her white-and-black locks breathe for once today.

“There thou art,” he murmured, setting her hair ties on the night desk. Just after saying that, he suddenly wondered out loud: “Wouldst thou like me to fetch a drink of water for thee?”

Rather than answering verbally Carmilla shook her head no, reaching an arm out and at first he assumed she was reaching for his hand again, but then she shakily pointed at something behind him; he tried to follow where her finger was pointing and saw a small brass bell on her vanity dresser, at which point he remembered that there were in fact many servants working in the Carmine manor who could handle that task just so that he could remain by her side.

Zestial immediately understood what Carmilla was trying to say and proceeded to ring the bell for a servant -- upon which one of them appeared within seconds: a Hellhound of indeterminable gender that resembled a French Bulldog. When they appeared they initially seemed confused that Señora Carmine was not actually the one who summoned them.

“Lord Zestial,” they bowed politely, knowing they were to treat Zestial the same as they would treat any other member of the Carmine family. “How may I help you…?”

“I must stay with Carmilla in here,” Zestial explained. “She needeth water, for her throat hath become sore over the course of the day.”

The Hellhound nodded, immediately scampering off and returning exactly a minute later with a tray carrying a glass cup and a large glass pitcher filled to the brim with water.

“I shall take it from here,” said Zestial as he took the tray from the servant. “I will call upon thee if thy assistance is needed.”

They bowed again and left to go do whatever it was lowly servants did at this time of day. As the Hellhound made their exit, Zestial turned to Carmilla again to hand her the ice-cold glass. The ripples in the water made it clear just how badly her hands were trembling, but she at least managed to bring the glass to her lips and take a few desperate gulps, several drops spilling down her chin in the process.

For the first time since they made it to this room, Zestial smiled upon Carmilla. “I would be just as thirsty as thee in thy state,” he chuckled. “But art thou feeling any better?”

“Not... not really,” she panted out in between heavy breaths. “You don’t… have to stay if you don’t want to… I promise I’ll… I’ll be fine…” her sentence was punctuated by another series of deep chesty coughs followed by a gasping intake of air. “Hh-HAaHZZZ’CHuuu!”

“Salud, Carmilla,” Zestial responded -- upon which he noticed a box of tissues just out of her reach, which he grabbed and left on the bed for her. “And I assure thee: as ill as thou mayst be, I wish only to be here with thee in the little time we have together -- even if that results in a change of plans.”

Carmilla took a small handful of tissues and blew her nose into them, a mostly fruitless waste of energy but it did help her head feel slightly more clear. “You… -snf- You know that you don’t have to… but… I am glad that you’re here anyway… I’m so sorry I ruined your plans – our first chance to spend time together alone in months, and it ends with you needing to take care of me… I’m a horrible friend – I don’t know why you’ve put up with me all this time…”

On such days when he saw his best friend at her lowest, Zestial knew to walk the tightrope and offer consolation where he could without arguing back to her. He knew she wasn’t a horrible friend -- and he also knew, deep down, that Carmilla likely knew that, too. But of all the things that her self-resentment indicated to Zestial, it was the burning desire to know: why? Perhaps now was the best time to explain himself, as he was about to on the boat.

“I told thou earlier,” he began, “that there was a reason for what I do, in spite of perceived concerns of expense. What I do for thee is at my own discretion -- and at my own discretion, I wish only for thee to remember the times we share together.”

Having sat upon Carmilla’s bed for the past couple minutes, he began to scoot closer to the sickly Overlord as he continued -- at the same time his heart began to race and her breath began to catch in her throat, and not as a result of an incoming sneeze.

“The reason why I wish for thy remembrance of our times together is simple: Carmilla -- I see us being more than best friends.” Almost without even noticing, Zestial began to reach his hand out, the tips of his fingers approaching her face before he proceeded to caress her cheek. “I’ve realized my feelings for thee for many a year now, yet never quite found the time or place to admit it. But now that we are together, I must confess that I do imagine us together as more than friends. Perhaps…for a long time, even.”

“Zestial…” his name escaped her mouth as more of an exhale than a spoken word, her hand reached up to touch the one he’d cupped around her cheek. “I’m… not sure I know what to say… all this time, I never imagined that you could feel the same way I do…”

Even when she had given her heart away to another, wed another man and bore his children, she had always felt the gravitational pull that led her back into Zestial’s arms time and time again; perhaps that was why she’d always refused to believe that somewhere in his blackened heart the gentlemanly sinner could desire her the way she desired him. Now she was faced with the truth that had been in front of her face for centuries.

“Perhaps I never made it obvious,” Zestial acknowledged, “for I did not want thee to see me as lesser for having greater feelings for thee than I originally anticipated. Perhaps that is why I went through the trouble of trying to bring us to the human world, even if that is not what we did.” He paused, taking a moment to breathe as the last sentence by itself had almost robbed him of inspiration. “How long hast thou felt the way thee have?”

“It’s hard to say when exactly,” she said wistfully, her feverish eyes gazing beyond him as if looking into their shared past. “I always felt indebted to you in some manner ever since that fateful day when we met, when you saved me… but perhaps it’s only been within the last couple hundred years that whenever I looked at you… I pictured a future for us together that I was under the impression you’d never want… then I met Ernesto, the girls came along eventually, and yet I still could never stop myself from imagining that future…”

“I never wanted to come between thee and thy lover,” said Zestial. “As long as thou wert happy, so was I. But now I find myself at a crossroads, having wondered for so long if it would be right to confess mine truest feelings to thee.” Again he paused, a smirk on his face. “I have a feeling thy daughters already knoweth how I feel; it is not as if I have avoided them in all the time I have known them.”

Carmilla found herself truly at a loss for words now, wanting nothing more than to take him in her arms but feeling too weak to even sit up at the moment. For now she was simply content with feeling his cool hand on her warm face, gazing into his many eyes, wishing she had the strength to express every unspoken word she’d ever wished to say to him.

“Aha! I fucking knew it!” All of a sudden they heard Clara shout triumphantly from the other side of the bedroom door, at which point they both realized it had been cracked ajar this entire time.

“Clara!! Would you shut up??” Odette frantically whispered. “Oh Satan – they totally heard that–”

That couldn’t have happened at a more appropriate time. Realizing this, Zestial turned his gaze back to Carmilla. “Like I said: they already knoweth how I have felt about thee.”

Carmilla let out a wheezy laugh, amusement over the situation overriding any anger she would have otherwise had at her daughters’ lack of respect for privacy. They were both smart girls, of course they’d been able to tell when she hadn’t. 

Ignoring Clara and Odette as they sheepishly entered the room, she turned her attention back to Zestial. Barring the fact she was currently cooking from the inside out, she wished in this moment that they could stay gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes for the rest of their eternal lives. In the back of their minds was the question of what came next, where could they go from here? How would their status as Overlords affect their relationship? Would others try to take advantage of their weakness that came in the form of their attachment, or would it strengthen their resolve to always protect each other no matter what threats Hell or Heaven threw at them?

All these questions buzzing around her head could be answered later. For now, as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, she couldn’t imagine a more perfect sight to fall asleep to, and a more perfect future to wake up to.

Before such a thing could happen, however, the four people within the room were greeted to the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching them from below, culminating in one of the imp servants arriving, breathless, looking as though they had just witnessed a murder.

“Clara?? Odette!?” the servant asked Carmilla’s daughters, who stood in his field of view from the rest of the bedroom. “Your mother has been reported missing along with Overlord Zestial! You need to--!” Just as he was about to go on, the imp was greeted to the sight of Zestial and Carmilla next to each other as Clara and Odette stepped out of the way; the very sight of Zestial here at all made the imp’s blood freeze.

“Missing, ye say?” Zestial inquired. “Wherever did thou get such an idea?”

“U-um…” the imp stammered, his tail twisting around one of his legs. “I-I heard the report from your servants, sir. They said they found your boat tipped over, and…” He trailed off.

Zestial’s eyes widened. “The boat,” he remembered, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Right, well--” Tensing up somewhat, he stood up from Carmilla’s bed before turning to face her with a smile. “It seems I have a record to set straight. I shall return to thee shortly, dear. Just you wait right there. As for thou--” He turned his gaze to the servant. “Tell the rest of the mansion’s servants that Carmilla fareth well in her bed; we had a mere miscommunication, that is all.”

“Y-yes sir!” The imp’s tail loosened around his leg as he gave a bow and made his way back down the stairs.

“Hhm-hm,” Zestial chuckled. “Men doth forget the simplest things when their women’s health takes a turn for the worse. Even I am not immune.” With that, the Overlord stepped out of the room before giving a bow of his own and leaving the residence.

Carmilla watched him go with feverish longing in her eyes, she could hardly remember when she last smiled so wide except for the first time she’d held each of her girls in her arms as tiny newborns.

Speaking of which, Clara came up to her bedside and pulled the blankets up to her chin. “Alright mom, you seriously need to get some sleep.”

“Hm… That’s supposed to be my line,” she remarked, the dreamy expression on her face suddenly twisted into one of irritation as she pawed around the bed for the tissue box, bringing a fresh handful up to her nose just in time. “Hh-hh… hHHATZZZChuuu!!”

[goodlucksnez]

Is h/azbin snez peeps still around?

we;; either way...ENJOY

DO NOT REBLOG TO NON-KINK BLOGS

MINORS FUCK OFF

cw/tw: Sneezing (duh), hitching, mentions of s/ex w/orkers, glitching, sfx of robotic sounds and computer things, implied romance

I swallowed my pride and finally made a wav with the moth! I cannot do accents so I tried my best

Also sticking with the headcannon V/ox has bad allergies to pollen in hell.

transcript below:

*Vox snez*

Hmm. Blessing. Ohh. That's the fifth time today mi amor …Is it already that time of year?

Don't even. Go there, Val.

You know this happens to you every now and again.

I know, I know every. Fucking tree. It hell deciders to…to. *snez* fuckin hell bloom

If this is how you are in hell. I would love to see you when you were alive I bet it was so entertaining.

Not really. Although they did have medicine. The best I can here do here is drink myself to...

Mi Television. I can tell you feel awful.

And yet you seem in high spirits. Do I want to know?

 You know I'm a proprietor of kinks , mi amor I’m surprised you have to ask

Uh. I appreciate the sentiment.…*snez*  I don't think I'm in the mood right now to play.

Very well, very well. I’ll take your confession.

 What confession?

That you need my help and I'll let you be.

*hitching*.

Really convincing there. Come on, voxy. You know you need me. You never get over those fits without it. I'm pretty sure half of hell remembers when you tried. How long did that blackout last?

Fine

Oh. You know that's not enough. Consent. mi amor. It's very important.

Fine Val. Help me you fucking masochistic Kicky motherfucker

*hitching and snez*

Oh, goodness. Goodness. Come here. mi amor, come here. I got you.

Ohh hold still

It tickles

Do you want to stop? I would suggest killing you, but. I think it would be more fun if you were alive. I always enjoyed a little plaything.

Fuck *snez*

You are holding me so tight!!

 I'm not even gonna elicit them with a response.

 Ohh. Your poor vents are Working overtime and I can practically feel the air blowing out myself.

Oh, God, don't even. Mentioned that..

Well, if you wanted to stop, might I suggest actually shutting the window for once

And pay for AC you may keep your studio as cold as. *snez* fucking saten.

We've all dreamed of that. Although I don't think he enjoys the sentiments, from what I've understood, he's a little bit of a how do I say, exclusive clientele? He only likes that bitch wife of his.

*shutting window* fine there at least more more of the ..*hitching*

Ohh, you can't even say the word. Do you mean pollen?

*Fits*

I will be definitely letting the media outlets know about expecting blackouts this week.

If you stoped fucking with me and actually helped.

And now can I help…do enlighten me.

 Do you have any handkerchiefs?

 You are so old fashioned. Most of the whores I hired now use tissues to get the job done. And yet you would like a pocket square

Easier on my screen.

 Oh. Very well. Here you go.

Thanks. You're going to stand there and watch me.

Oh, come on. I thought we already went over this.

*Blows nose*

Do you feel better now?

I think you're going to give me an encore Corazon.

*hitching*

I got you. I'm holding. I got you. Come on. Oh. Well done.

I hate you

I love you too.

Don't worry, I'll take care of that cute little face of yours. For as long as the pollen may last.

 Yay, yay yay…just another fucking week with val, fuck my life.

[chestcongestion]

Losing Your Grippe- Ch.4: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

This was way longer of a chapter than I was originally expecting, but I am ultimately very satisfied with how it turned out, I sincerely believe and hope it was worth the wait!

Fic is under the cut as always, I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 9,275

Content Warnings: Contagion, Current events-adjacent disease testing (mentions of rapid tests and antigens and whatnot)

  On the other side of Pentagram City, Angel Dust was reclining in a chair while waiting for his turn on set. 

Valentino had come up with a brilliant idea for a porn where two security guards fuck a jewel thief as punishment for breaking into the museum they work for, but there had been a few setbacks during filming. The usual cinematographers were out sick, and the two burly actors playing the security guards would have been out, but there was no one their size on the employee roster left to replace them. 

“Hn’KtShoo! Mm… I’m sorry, I think I’m holding the wrong script… I’m ‘Guard One’ and you’re ‘Guard Two’,” Axel, a rhinoceros demon with a spike collar neck tattoo and industrial piercings in his ears, said. 

“Shiiit dude, you’re right, we’ve been memorizing the wrong scripts- HDd’TsShihh! HhdD’Tshhhuh!” Hummer, a muscular barracuda demon with translucent neck and back fins, said as he struggled to stay on his own two feet, his nose trickling down his face, in spite of constant sniffling to avoid such a fate.

“Idiots! Pull yourselves together, I don’t understand why you’re both bumbling around when we’re on a schedule… god, for nerds I recycled from Voxxy’s staff, you two are idiots,” Valentino grumbled, folding his arms in between fits of furiously slapping at his copy of the script. 

“I feel hot,” Axel complained, fanning himself off with the script. 

“I feel cold… H-HhDd’TSHhuhh! Hnk’Tschhuh!” Hummer said, followed by a heavy sniffle as he rubbed his upper arms in an attempt to warm his damp skin. 

“Waaah waah waah, excuses excuses, I’m freezing my ass off but you don’t hear me complaining about anything but your piss poor performance!” Valentino shouted into his cupped hands, turning to cough into his fuzzy sleeve after raising his voice irritated his throat, “kHHF! KHFF!” 

“Val… I-ihh…Ih’PsShuu! Ih’PSshuu!- stop shouting… my head hurts,” Velvette complained from her small platform of blankets and cushions next to Valentino’s chair. Her bedroom was being fumigated after a cleaner found two nests of hornets under the floorboards, and because she was too exhausted and feverish to be left alone, Valentino was charged with keeping an eye on her while he worked.  Velvette’s hair was pinned up in a loose ponytail of dense curls, a few flyaways and stray hairs poking out of the style and sweat trickling down from her hairline as she shivered in her fleece button-up pajamas patterned with hearts and swirls. 

“I’m so sorry, pequeñita…I-Ihh’PTsShhEW!- euch- I’ll try to keep it down,” Valentino replied, his voice slightly rough as he took a swig of his cosmopolitan, coughing harshly into his fist after the alcohol stung his raw throat, “Hurry it up and try agai-ihh… IiH’PTSshhhEW! Ih’PTsShhiiiew!” 

Axel and Hummer got back into position and attempted to run through the scene again, Axel grimacing as his joints ached intensely every time he took a step or bent down to grab something. 

“I just checked the… snff!- the perimeter a’d the… SnFFF! Snff!- the back door is ope’d… Hh’hnkk-TsSchoo!” Axel read, his nose beginning to drip until his sniffles became snorts, “SnRK-snrk!- fuck- Did you check the camberas for the back door to see if a’dyode- Snrk!-” 

Before Axel could finish his line, the first line in the entire script, he was interrupted by Valentino throwing a box of tissues at the side of his head.  

“Oww!” 

“If I wanted a bumbling idiot who couldn’t enunciate the letters ‘m’ and ‘n’, I promise there’s meatheads way hotter than you who I could’ve paid a lot less, say your lines right, idiot!” Valentino hissed, squeaking indignantly as his antennae twitched before turning to cough into his fist. 

“Mby ndose is stuffed up- SnRkk!- I ca’d barely breathe,” Axel argued, wilting a bit from exhaustion as a trickle of mess threatened to run down his face before he wiped at it with a balled-up tissue.  

“Hurry up and blow your nose or I’ll punch you in that hunk of ivory in the middle of your face and unstuff it myself!”  

“Val, please,” Velvette groaned, grabbing her pillow and using it to cover her head, whimpering in pain before letting out an aggressive, hacking cough, “Oh for fuck’s sake- KHFFF KOFF khff khhuff!- I need to- KHFFF kHFFF!- take some more cough syrup.” 

“You’ve already had a dose three times, Velvette, you need to save the last  two doses for tonight, you can’t have anymore,” Valentino said, quietly taking the bottle of raspberry-flavored cough syrup out of Velvette’s hands and stowing it away in his pocket, only for the fashion designer to start clawing at his coat in retaliation, “Ow- OW! Velvette, cut it out!” 

“You’re being a prick, give it to me,” Velvette hissed, weakly throwing a punch at Val’s leg only to wilt back into her small nest of quilts, “I… I need it.” 

Exhausted and covered in febrile sweat, Velvette shivered and wrapped herself in a throw blanket, glancing back up at Valentino with a pitiful look in her eyes.  

“You can have some more cough syrup later, I promise… KHhf-khff!” Val promised, moving a piece of Velvette’s sweat-dampened hair out of her face, even as his own eyelids began to droop. 

In the middle of watching all of the chaos during the shoot, Angel felt someone tugging on his sleeve, and turned to see Papermint- Vox’s assistant- standing sheepishly next to him while holding a small vial and a long swab. 

“What’sa matter wit’ you? Whadda you want?” Angel asked, having grown slightly irritable throughout the day due to a mixture of the commotion and a slight headache that seemed to develop out of nowhere. 

“Mr. Angel Dust, I need you to open your mouth,” Papermint muttered, shuffling in place in an attempt to shove down any visible nervousness. 

Angel scoffed, “Oh dat’s rich, for a shrimp like you it’s 50 bucks to see my tongue, 100 for the uvula, and 200 more if ya want me to do anythin’ else while my mouth’s open.” 

Papermint chuckled, adjusting his glasses with the hand that wasn’t holding the swab, “No, no- uhm… because Ms. Velvette was diagnosed with the flu yesterday, company policy dictates that all VoxTech associates undergo diagnostic testing for at least a week as a precaution,” he said, “I have to swab your tongue and the back of your throat, and you should get your results via SMS message in a few hours.” 

Angel sighed, shrugging his shoulders and turning to face Papermint properly, “Alright, if it’s policy I guess I gotta do it anyways,” he said, gently massaging his temple with one hand, grimacing at the dull throbbing pain beneath his skull. 

“Excellent!” Papermint cheered, gently holding the swab in front of Angel’s mouth, “Say ‘Aaah’.” 

“Aaaaah,” Angel droned, his voice straining a bit as Papermint swabbed along his tongue, underneath his tongue, and at the back of his throat. 

“I’m impressed, most people I’ve had to swab have gagged and choked even when I’m only swabbing further back on their tongue,” Papermint said with a warm smile, only to shudder upon realizing who he was speaking to, “Oh… ohhh.” 

“There we go, glad ya figured that one out on yer own,” Angel said with a smirk, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of water from the bottle next to his chair, “How’d I do, shrimp? My throat look nice and pretty?” 

Papermint chewed on his tongue, flushing slightly as Angel batted his eyelashes and winked playfully at him, “A-about as attractive as an individual’s internal cavities can look, Mr. Angel Dust!” he said. 

Angel giggled, “Good answer,” he said, gently cupping Papermint’s cheek in his hand and giving it a few flirtatious taps, “Alright, now get lost, I gotta get ready for my cue if they ever get past the first two lines.” 

“Y-yes, of course, thank you for your cooperation with the testing! I’ll leave a few rapid testing kits near your chair for you to take home, enjoy the rest of the shoot!” Papermint said with a wave. 

Angel waved back, turning to look back at the set and wincing once the shouting and throwing of chairs aggravated his slowly-building headache, “U ugh, I’m gonna be sittin’ in this chair forever,” he groaned, tugging at his eyelids. 

“It cannot be that difficult to get your lines right, we haven’t gotten past the first page of this goddamn script and it’s been two hours!” Valentino screamed, throwing his copy of the script at Axel as his eye twitched. 

“Ow!” Axel whined, rubbing his head after the script made impact. 

“Fuck off! Do better or I’ll… I’ll… i-Ihh… hhh! Hihh-!” Valentino began, scrubbing at the center of his face and sniffling, “Ihh-” 

“HnK’TSHOOO!” Axel sneezed. 

“i-IHH’PshHhue!” then Velvette. 

“I-IhH’PsSHHHiIEW!” then Valentino. 

A flicker of blue static appeared in the center of the studio before Vox took its place, clasping his hands together, his back panel open and an unamused look on his face. 

“Alright, I have seen enough,” Vox sighed, “Shoot’s canceled, we’re done here.” 

Vox turned to address the actors and crew that were still on set, “Filming is postponed until further notice, all of you are free to go home, building staff will hand you a week’s worth of rapid testing kits on your way out, but you are free to leave,” he said. 

A majority of the cinematographers and audio technicians put their equipment away before hurrying out of the studio, eager to enjoy their time off. 

Vox approached Valentino’s chair, gently planting a kiss on the back of his neck and pressing a cool metallic hand against his forehead, “They’re all going home, you are coming with me to get swab tested,” he said, his voice soft as he gently wiped the sweat from Valentino’s face and turned to address Velvette, “and you are going straight to bed.” 

 “I don’t want to go to bed,” Velvette pouted, leaning against Vox’s side after he pulled her to her feet, struggling to stand up straight, “M-my room’s still full of hornetss.” 

“Not your bed, Vel, our bed,” Vox chuckled, hoisting Velvette into his arms and rubbing the hot skin on her neck and shoulder with a cool hand. 

“Oh… alright then,” Velvette sighed, pressing her face against Vox’s chest as he carried her, quietly fading in and out of consciousness as Vox walked through the halls, into the elevator, and back up to their penthouse at the top of the tower. 

Upon finally registering her new surroundings, Velvette yawned and whimpered in frustration when Vox peeled her away from him and set her down in his and Valentino’s shared bed, covering her shivering form with a blanket. 

“Noooo- Khhf khff!- come back, don’t leave me in here,” Velvette whined, tugging on Vox’s sleeve and staring up at him with shimmering eyes. 

“I’ll be right back, I promise, I’m just going into the bathroom with Val, I’ll be right out,” Vox said, gently twirling a lock of Velvette’s hair around his finger before letting go and walking a few paces into the master bathroom, where Valentino was leaning against the sink and grimacing at the swab for the rapid flu test. 

“Papi, where do I stick it?” Valentino asked, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them off with a paper towel before pushing them back onto his face, “I-Ihh’PTsSChhiiew!” 

“Peel the plastic off and then swab the top and sides of your tongue and the back of your throat,” Vox explained. 

“How far back?” 

“This is a swab test, not a blowjob, right around your tonsils is fine,” 

“What the fuck are tonsils? Khhfff-KHFF!” 

“The fleshy round things in the back of your throat that swell up when you get sick,” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Vox rolled his eyes, swiping around on his screen and pulling up his ‘Internals Close Up’ app that allowed Papermint and his technicians to get a better look at his throat using two cameras attached to the roof of his mouth, “Okay, see where the uvula is?” he asked. 

Valentino squinted at the screen before nodding. 

“Look behind it, see those two things poking out behind my tongue?” 

“Mhm,” 

“Those are my tonsils, everyone has them,” 

“That’s trippy,” Valentino said, prying his mouth open wide with his fingers before swabbing his tongue and throat, moaning in satisfaction upon swabbing around his newly-discovered tonsils, “Nghgkk, Koff-khfff!” 

Vox winced, “You alright?” 

Valentino removed the swab, drooling a bit as he took his fingers out of his mouth, flashing a slightly loopy smile, “M mm that felt good, it’s like getting your back scratched but in your mouth,” he sighed, “I wanna do it again, my throat itches so bad.” 

Vox looked down at Valentino’s crotch and rolled his eyes, “Val, for the love of God, it shouldn’t be that easy to get you hard,” he said, looking away and placing the swab inside of a tube of fluid, shaking it up before smearing the wet swab onto the testing strip. 

“It’s not my fault that my dick responds whenever I feel good, Voxxy, don’t be a prude… I-Ihh’PtSchhiEW!” Valentino replied, his flirtatious tone fading after his sneeze, the feeling of the cold bathroom floor against his feet making him shiver.  

Vox squinted at the testing strip, watching as the paper turned blue before quickly turning red, “Yup, positive, you’ve got the flu… how do you feel?” he asked, watching Valentino bracing himself against the water tank of the toilet. 

“Uhmm… not too bad,” Val responded, cleaning off his glasses, with his sleeve, “Just a little tired… and cold… really cold.” 

Vox turned on the hot water faucet of the master bathroom’s tub, switching on the shower and letting it run until steam began to fill the room, “Take a hot shower, I’ll get your pajamas,” he instructed, closing the bathroom door and walking back into the master bedroom of the penthouse, rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a pair of yellow silk pajamas covered in purple hearts, the only set of pajamas Valentino owned that covered his chest, stomach, and more than 50% of his legs. 

“Did I- Khff!- get Val sick?” Velvette asked weakly, curled up in her blanket in the middle of the massive bed, “‘M sorry… I-ihh’Pshhuu!... didn’t think I was getting sick, now we’re gonna… KHff-khff-khff!- miss the summit.” 

“The summit’s being pushed back, apparently everyone and their dog is sick at the moment, so there’d be no one in attendance, we’ll all be able to go when you’re feeling better,” Vox said reassuringly, pressing a hand to Velvette’s forehead, “103.” 

“I feel absolutely horrid,” Velvette complained, tears in her eyes, “My head hurts, my back hurts, my throat hurts… I’d rather be on my fucking period.”  

Vox winced, “You must really be miserable if that’s the case… want some medicine?” he asked. 

Velvette shook her head, “Had too much already… can I have some tea? I’m thirsty,” she pleaded, her voice hoarse and cracking before she turned back towards her pillow to cough. 

Vox gently motioned toward Velvette’s large metal cup, magically filling it three quarters of the way with hot liquid, and handing it over to Velvette, who eagerly took a sip. 

“Nghh, it tastes different,” she croaked, “kHFff-Khff!” 

“It’s peppermint, figured it might help your muscles and joints,” Vox said, stroking Velvette’s back as she coughed in between sips, “There we go, does that feel better?” 

“Mhm,” Velvette replied, setting her cup down on the nightstand and curling back up into her blanket, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm, “snff-snff! ‘S good… making my ndose run, though.” 

Vox plucked two tissues out of the box on the nightstand, gently holding them up to Velvette’s face and stroking her scalp as she emptied her sinuses into them until both tissues were thoroughly soaked, “Think you’ll be alright?” he asked. 

Velvette nodded weakly, rubbing her eyes again as she settled against her pillow with a scratchy yawn, “I think so,” she mumbled, “Do mby eyes look puffy?” 

Vox briefly glanced at Velvette’s eyelids, noticing that they seemed normal and inflammation-free, just accompanied by slight dark circles due to Velvette’s lack of restful sleep, “Not puffy at all, you just look tired… but that’s fine, you are tired,” he said with a smile. 

“So tired,” Velvette replied. 

THUMP!

Vox perked up, turning to look at the bathroom door and silently fretting about the possibility of Valentino falling, “I’ll be right back Vel,” he said hurriedly, walking into the bathroom and peeking behind the shower curtain. 

Unfortunately, Vox’s worst suspicions were confirmed, and Valentino was sprawled out on his back in the bathtub, being pelted with comfortably warm water against his unbearably hot and flushed skin. Unable to hoist himself back up, the pornographer simply moaned in pain, staring at his beloved partner with glassy eyes. 

“Val, what happened? Did you hurt yourself?” Vox asked, tugging anxiously on the wires in his neck and ignoring the sparks that flew as a result. 

“Shhh shhh, it’s fine,” Valentino said, his voice hushed and soft as he struggled to his feet with Vox’s help, his legs shaking, “Just got really dizzy all of a sudden, then out of nowhere my legs gave out… I feel a lot worse now, is that s’posed to happen?” 

“Yes, it usually gets worse on an exponential curve and hits pretty fast,” Vox sighed, pressing his palm against Val’s forehead, “102…2.4… 2.6… 2.8… 103… 3.2… 3.5.” 

“I feel hot,” Valentino complained hoarsely as he leaned against Vox for support, “Khh-KHFF! Khfff!” 

Unable to muster up the energy to hold his hand to his mouth, Valentino’s harsh and raspy cough was released into the open air, with particles quickly hitting the sensitive wires and circuit boards that were tucked away in Vox’s back panel- which was still hanging wide open haphazardly. 

Vox was so focused on looking after Valentino that he didn’t even feel the moisture brushing up against his delicate circuitry, and instead just patted Valentino on the back after he coughed, “It’s okay, once you put your pajamas on I’ll bring you a glass of water,” he said. 

“Mkay,” Val replied, sniffling as he slowly struggled to pull on his pajama pants and the accompanying shirt, sighing in relief once he finally finished, before staggering over to the bed and collapsing against the comforter, curling up next to Velvette and smiling at her, “Hola pequeñita.” 

“Hiii,” Velvette greeted weakly before turning away to scrub aggressively at her face in an attempt to fend off a pending itch, “I’m so sorry I got you sick… Iihh’Pshhuue! Ih’psshhuu!” 

“It’s fine… I don’t blame you- snff!- I’m just exhausted,” Valentino mumbled as his eyelids began to droop. 

“Me too,” Velvette agreed, rubbing her eyes. 

The two struggled to entertain one another and keep the other awake by exchanging goofy faces and long stares while Vox was out of the room getting a glass of ice cold water, but eventually their efforts failed, and Velvette fell asleep with Valentino following right behind her. The two snored peacefully outside of the occasional raspy cough, and Valentino unconsciously inched closer to Velvette as the two slept, the two patients caught in a half-hug of sorts.  

A few minutes later, Vox returned to the master bedroom with a glass of water, only to find his life partner and their closest friend fast asleep, their chests rising and falling. 

“Well, sleeping is good, hopefully they’ll feel a little better,” Vox whispered, turning out the lights in the master bedroom and carefully draping a blanket over Valentino’s unconscious form before turning on his heels and leaving to go get some work done in his office. 

On the walk to his personal workspace in the penthouse, Vox was suddenly stopped in his tracks by his frenzied assistant, who was hurriedly tapping through various screens on his touch-screen laptop, “What is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Sir, I just got a notification from your technician, there’s been a breech,” Papermint explained, showing Vox his laptop that was littered with warning messages and system alerts. 

Vox blinked, suddenly feeling the draft blowing onto his circuits and wires, “Ohhh, that’s just because my back panel is still open, I got sidetracked and forgot to close it,” he chuckled, closing the panel on his head and smiling triumphantly, “There- snff!- problem solved.” 

Papermint adjusted his glasses and scrolled through the message log, only to wince and yelp upon receiving more warning messages, “Uhmmm, it seems that the problem hasn’t been solved, Sir, your system is still reporting a breech, there’s foreign body activity near your processor and your air filtration system is about to malfunction…” he said, biting his lip nervously. 

“Nonsense, I probably just need my sensors adjusted, my air filtration system is fine- Hhn’Kk! Hhnkk! Kxhht!” Vox replied, only to be stunned by his sudden sneeze, a fine spray misting out of the sides of his head from his stuttering air circulation system. Vox sniffled, tapping the side of his head in an attempt to knock non-existent dust loose, “Wh-what else do the system alerts say?” he asked. 

“Organic material has leaked into your system and your software is having a pseudo-immunological response,” Papermint said, rambling as he fumbled with his notification wall and smoothed out his hair. 

“Layman’s terms please, Papermint, I don’t have time to decipher your jargon, I’m getting a headache,” Vox complained, massaging the corners of his screen as his interface glitched and his fans malfunctioned again, “Kxhht! KXHHT! Hhn’kk!” 

“You have the flu,” Papermint said nervously. 

Vox’s eye twitched, “Oh for pete’s sake… khff!- I can’t be sick, all three of us can’t be sick,” he groaned, “What am I gonna do?” 

“I received some experimental immune defense spray from Sloth Pharmaceuticals the other day, and all my swab tests have come back negative, Sir, I could help look after you if need be,” Papermint offered with an eager smile. 

Vox sighed, “Thank goodness for the clowns at Sloth Pharma… Hhn’Kk! KzZXHHT!” he said, wiping up the coolant that was beginning to leak from his air filter with a tissue, “Euch… snff!” 

“Why don’t you put on something comfortable and join Mr. Valentino and Miss Velvette in bed?” Papermint suggested. 

Vox opened his mouth to object, only to realize that he’d rather be relaxing in bed than sifting through licensing agreements, and shrugged, turning on his heels and heading back to the master bedroom, his exhaust fans stuttering and making him cough as they clashed against one another and his liquid coolant system. 

Papermint smiled contentedly, dusting off his hands and heading over to the penthouse’s small laundry room to hunt for the warm mist humidifier and a can of pressurized air to clean out Vox’s air filters. “This will be nice,” he mumbled enthusiastically to himself, beginning to sort through various devices in search of what he needed. 

About forty-five minutes later, back at the hotel, Angel sauntered in through the front doors and walked over to the parlor-turned-quarantine space, leaning over the arm of the sofa to massage the space between Husk’s ears, “I’m back from the fuck factory,” he greeted, kissing Husk’s cheek. 

“You’re back early- Khfff khff! KHFF khff!- fuck,” Husk observed, rubbing his neck and chest and grumbling in pain after his harsh, throaty cough. 

“Eh, Val’s sick so I’ve got the week off, fine by me, I was supposed to do a two-on-one in a contortion pose for ‘dis stupid flick, I’m happy I get to put it off long enough for Val to hopefully forget about it,” Angel said, sighing as he handed Husk his glass of water from the coffee table, rubbing his back as he took eager gulps before setting the empty glass down.

“Happy for you, I can’t even touch my toes, couldn’t imagine takin’ it up the ass with my legs behind my head,” Husk said, chuckling until a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him and he reclined against his pillows, covering his eyes with his palms as he tried to compose himself, “Sorry… room started spinning.” 

Angel inched closer to Husk’s level of the makeshift sofa-bed, kneeling down and resting a cautious hand on Husk’s forehead, “Marone, your brain’s gonna melt and start leakin’ outta your ears,” he said, frowning in disapproval before kissing Husk’s cheek, “How ya feelin’?” 

Husk swallowed, adjusting under his blanket and scrubbing under his nose to stave off a damp sniffle, “Like death,” he grumbled, losing the fight against a violent shiver that radiated up his spine, “I’m so cold.” 

Angel leaned over, wrapping Husk in a tight hug and nuzzling up against the crook of his neck and his shoulder, “My poor baby,” he crooned, kissing Husk’s neck, “This make ya feel any warmer?” 

Husk’s body was wracked by another violent shiver, and he continued to tremble before shaking his head as his vision began to blur and warp, forcing him to brace himself against the arm of the sofa, “Fuck… I can’t see straight… ‘m gonna lie down again,” he said, gently pushing away from Angel and curling back up into his blankets, his sharp teeth chattering, “Khhhhfff- khff khff!” 

Angel pinched the center of his face, gently massaging the skin as pain continued to build behind his eyes, “Goddamnit,” he groaned, hoisting himself to his feet and rummaging through the cleavage separating his chest fluff before pulling out his phone, scrolling through his text messages, “My head’s killin’ me.” 

“E-ehh’PssSCHEW! Eh’PsSCHHEW!” 

Angel turned, seeing Lucifer reclined on the loveseat, noisily blowing his ‘nose’ after his wet sneeze, “You too, huh?” he asked, smirking at Lucifer’s fuzzy socks peeking out from the other end of the blanket. 

“Mm- SnFF!- mmhmm,” Lucifer replied, rubbing at his eyes before tossing his soggy tissue in the trash can next to the loveseat, “I feel awful.” 

“Well, I’m gonna go talk to Vags before I hop in the shower, need anythin’?” 

Lucifer released another pitiful sniffle, “Another glass of apple juice?” he requested, taking another swipe at his tired eyes. 

“You got it,” Angel said, shooting Lucifer a thumbs up before walking out of the parlor and into the kitchen, where Vaggie was chopping vegetables and humming to herself while Niffty- visibly bored- peeled shrimp while sitting on the kitchen island, separating the viable meat and the veins and shells into two separate bowls. 

“You’re back early,” Vaggie remarked, not even looking up from the carrot she was slicing. 

“Yup, shoot got canceled before I even had to read any lines,” Angel said with a snicker, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of apple juice, pouring it into a glass with a couple of ice cubes. Upon filling up Lucifer’s cup, Angel gently shook the bottle of apple juice, looking skeptical, “I coulda sworn this bottle was full this mornin’.” 

“Lucifer and Charlie both basically refuse to eat, so they’ve been chugging it, I’ll have to get more bottles delivered when I order groceries tonight,” Vaggie replied, “Have you seen Alastor?” 

“Nah, ain’t seen hear or tail of ‘im,” Angel said with a shrug, “Gotta go bring King Pipsqueak his juice, I’ll be back.” 

Vaggie waved at Angel as he vanished back into the parlor, when she began to hear the hissing sound of static in her ears, turning around and focusing to try and decipher where the sound was coming from. 

“Hzzhht! Hxhht! HxXhht!” 

Vaggie narrowed her eyelids, waiting patiently and counting in her head as the noise continued, until suddenly it changed. 

“HxXHhht-Shhiew! Hnk’Kzxhht-Chew! HnXxhhT’Shhew! ‘Shhhiew! ‘SHHIEW! ‘Chhiew!”  

A-ha! 

“Alastor, get out of the pantry, I know you’re in there,” Vaggie ordered, watching with a smirk as Alastor slowly stepped out of the walk-in pantry, clutching his handkerchief to his nose and attempting to wipe at his watery eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Snff-snff! You kndow- snff!- I would have cobe out eventually- Hnx’xXHt-CHEW! HnxXHhtiew! ‘Chhiew! ‘Shhew!” Alastor said, blowing his nose and fanning off the red, irritated skin with his free hand. 

Vaggie rolled her eyes, only for her exasperation to screech to a halt upon hearing Alastor’s audible congestion and constant sneezing, “You okay?” she asked.

Alastor roughly cleared his throat, wiping desperately at his nose in an attempt to stop the near constant dripping, “Sindce I ndo longer have the privilege of bei’g discreet with mby… issues, I’b goi’g to be hondest- Snrkk!- a’d say ndo,” he said, his eyes twitching as he felt another sneeze building in his sinuses, “hHihh! H-hihh!! Hhh! HnkXxh’tSHEW! HxXhht-Shew! Hnk’Kxhht-chew!” 

“A shocking but pleasant surprise… I’m not proud of you for being vulnerable, I just like watching you suffer,” Vaggie scoffed, smirking at Alastor and feeling a swell of pride when he opened his mouth to snarl at her, only to sneeze instead. 

“Uch… I’ve been milli’g about with plague urchins for far too long, and their opportunistic pathogens have got mbe right where they want mbe,” Alastor grumbled, “Hih’KxXHHT-cHHIEW! Hih’Kxhhttiew! Hnk’KxzZHt-Shew!” 

Niffty giggled, climbing onto Alastor’s shoulder and poking his nose. 

“Hh’Xxhht-Chiew! HxXhht-shew! Hhnk’Kxhht-schiew! ‘sCHHiew! ‘Sheww!” Alastor sneezed, his eyes streaming with tears and his nose running hopelessly as he swatted Niffty away, still holding his handkerchief up to his nose. 

“I’m not going to help you if you’re gonna be coy to avoid being embarrassed, say what you mean or you can put a clothespin on your nose and help me with dinner,” Vaggie said, unamused. 

Alastor flushed, turning away and mumbling something through clenched teeth. 

“Huh?” 

Alastor mumbled a bit louder, but ultimately still unintelligible, especially with his handkerchief clasped over his nose and mouth. 

Vaggie placed both hands on her hips, “Alastor, just say it,” she ordered. 

Alastor huffed, balling his free hand into a fist before rolling his eyes and letting the confession spill out, “I thig’k I have the flu!” he exclaimed, sniffling as he swiped at his nostrils with his damp handkerchief, “Happy ndow? H-Hhnk’Kxhht-chew! Hnk’Xxht-shiew!”  

“Not really, it means I’m down a helper,” Vaggie sighed, “Go sit in the parlor on the other loveseat, I’ll be in there after I wash my hands to take your temperature.”  

Alastor gave a weak nod, wandering out of the kitchen and into the parlor, still sneezing. 

Upon Alastor leaving the kitchen, Angel returned, having showered and changed relatively quickly, “Well, looks like ya’ found mista’ happy face,” he said, pouring himself a glass of water and hurriedly chugging it before wiping off his mouth, “What’s up wit’ him?” 

“He thinks he’s getting sick,” Vaggie groaned, “It’s gonna be me, you, and Niffty looking after things, I guess.” 

“Guess so,” Angel replied, only to pause, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his messages, “Damnit, what’s takin’ them so long? At this point I oughtta just take one a’ the rapid tests they gave me.” 

“What are you talking about?” Vaggie asked, washing her hands in the sink before wiping them off with a dish towel. 

“Bunch of people at my job are gettin’ sick, so they tested all of us, and we’re supposed ta’ get the results soon, but they sent us home with a bag of ‘rapid tests’ that take like a minute,” Angel explained, gagging quietly, “I didn’t mind swabbin’ the back of my throat, but that stupid stick tastes awful runnin’ across your tongue.” 

Vaggie’s face brightened, and she grabbed Angel’s wrist, “Well, buck up and get ready for the taste, because the four of us are gonna take one,” she said, leading Angel out of the kitchen by tugging on his arm, “C’mon Niffty.” 

Niffty scrambled to get down from the kitchen island, skipping after Vaggie and Angel only to run back into the kitchen, hurriedly clean the shellfish scent off of her hands, and sprint to return to the parlor, eagerly sitting on the floor between Alastor’s legs. 

Angel pulled out four rapid tests from the plastic bag of them he’d been given upon leaving the broadcast tower, handing one to Vaggie, one to Alastor, and one to Niffty before keeping the last one in his hands. 

Husk and Charlie were both fast asleep, curled up against the base of the sofa from their respective levels of the makeshift trundle bed. Lucifer, on the other hand, was somewhat awake, and watched the four “healthy” hotel residents unwrap their tests in between small sips of his apple juice. 

Angel opened his mouth, scrubbing the surface of his tongue, the underside of his tongue, and the back of his throat, swirling the swab in a circle on the surface of his tonsils, nearly drooling with satisfaction as the sensation of the swab on his throat appeared to be scratching an itch he wasn’t even aware of, “Ngghhkkkk… nghh-ghhkk,” he droned, pulling the swab out of his mouth and struggling to keep a stray hand from gravitating toward his groin, “Hrghht-hrmm! That felt good…I kinda wanna do it again.” 

Alastor rolled his eyes, “Shambeless pervert- snff!- Hnk’Kxhht-Sshiew! ‘Shhiew! ‘Shhhew!” he grumbled, reluctantly putting his swab in his mouth and gagging with disgust upon swiping around his tongue and gagging a bit harder while reaching the back of his throat, quickly pulling the swab out once he’d been scrubbing for the instructed amount of time, “Euch… that was disgustii’g- Iihh…. HnKxXHt-SHEW!”  

Niffty quietly scrubbed her tongue and throat with her mouth closed around the swab, humming ‘Lollipop’ to herself as she worked the swab from side to side and up and down, pulling the swab out of her mouth and giggling after it made the same ‘Pop!’ sound that can be heard after the first segment of the song, “All done!” she cheered. 

Vaggie grumbled, nearly gagging prematurely upon watching the others complete their swabs, “Si vomito, mataré a alguien,” she grumbled, popping her swab into her mouth and hurriedly scrubbing the surface and underside of her tongue before gently inching closer to the back of her throat, sighing with relief when the sensation wasn’t nearly as gag-inducing as she expected, pulling the swab out with a triumphant smile. 

“Okay, now ya hafta put the swab in this tube and shake it around… and then rub the wet swab on the piece ‘a paper in the testing kit,” Angel explained, squinting through his bothersome headache to read the tiny print on the back of the testing kit’s packaging. 

All four participants shook their tubes of testing solution before smearing the sample across the rapid testing paper. 

Vaggie watched as the wet portion of her paper turned blue, “Negative,” she said with a smile, “Phew.” 

“Negative!” Niffty cheered, waving around her blue testing paper. 

Angel blinked, watching as his testing paper turned blue for a moment, only to quickly turn red, “Positive,” he sighed, massaging his temples with one pair of hands, “Explains why my head’s fuckin’ killin’ me.”  

Alastor waited patiently as his testing paper turned blue, and remained blue for a brief period, only to change colors, “It’s…greend- HnkXxhht’SHEW!” he said, cleaning off his monocle with his sleeve before staring at the testing paper, confused. 

Angel looked at the back of the testing kit, “Green is negative for… antigens… but positive for… antibodies, the fuck does that mean? Christ on a bike I barely passed goin’ to Catholic school in the 20s, I can’t read ‘dis shit,” he grumbled, pulling out his phone and plugging the words into a search engine, “Oh for Christ’s sake- I got nothin’ on ‘antibodies’,  but it says that testin’ negative for antigens means ya ain’t sick… I gotta keep scrollin’.” 

Alastor looked puzzled, staring back at his confusing testing paper before sniffling hopelessly into his handkerchief, “The accursed thi’g has to be faulty- HnkXxhht-sCHHIEW! Hnk’Kxhht-shew!- if I was fide I wouldn’t be put through the id- Snrkk!- indig’ndity of all this sdeezi’g… HnK’Xhht-SHIEW!” he said. 

Vaggie walked over to the loveseat where Alastor was sitting, pressing a hand to his forehead and waiting for a moment with narrowed eyelids before pulling it away, “I think it’s right… you feel fine to me, nice and cool,” she said with a smirk, “You’re just being a hypochondriac.” 

“Stop usin’ them big words, I don’t wanna have to look up anythin’ else, this is makin’ my brain hurt!” Angel complained, still scrolling through his phone.  

“You’ve been so worried about getting sick that your brain is doing everything it can to convince you that you’re sick,” Vaggie explained, poking Alastor’s red and irritated nose. 

“HnK’Tshhew! Hnk’Kxzxht-chiew! Hnk’KXxshIEW!” Alastor sneezed, wiping his nose with his handkerchief and letting loose a watery sniffle, “Euch…the’d why does mby ndose still feel so Iiihh…i-ihh…. Itchy?” 

Vaggie stared at Alastor’s runny nose and his watery eyes with puffy, visibly irritated eyelids, before directing her attention to Alastor’s handkerchief, noticing that his breath began to hitch and his eyes watered more when he held it closer to his twitchy nostrils, “Hand me your handkerchief,” she instructed. 

“What? Ndo- snff!” Alastor argued. 

Vaggie rolled her eyes, yanking the cloth out of Alastor’s hands, and watching as the Radio Demon’s twitchy, sensitive nose seemingly calmed down, his watery eyes drying up, and his breathing returning to normal after a few damp sniffles. 

Alastor sighed in relief, wiping the moisture out of his eyes and fanning at his friction-reddened nose, “Oh my goodness,” he said in between panting breaths, leaning his head back against the back of the loveseat. 

“That feel better?” Vaggie asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Very much, yes,” Alastor said with a relieved smile. 

“So it was just your allergies, mystery solved,” Vaggie said, folding her arms, “Wonder what was on this thing that was making you sneeze so much.” 

Vaggie held up the handkerchief so that it was closer to her face, sniffing the air around it and sticking out her tongue in disgust when a heavy scent wafted into her nostrils, “Euchh, this thing reeks of cologne, no wonder you were sneezing so much,” she said, tossing the practically wet handkerchief into a garbage can in the far corner of the room. 

Alastor’s eyes widened, and he turned to stare at Lucifer with an unamused glare lingering in his eyes in spite of his tight smile, “It appears that your sweat practically burned the stench of your repulsive cologne into my clothes after I carried you,” he said through clenched teeth, “I was able to wash the stench out of my coat, but I didn’t think to wash my handkerchief that had been tucked into one of the pockets.” 

Lucifer scoffed, “My cologne smells fine, not my fault you’re allergic to it,” he said, blowing a drowsy raspberry in Alastor’s direction. 

“I wouldn’t put in so much effort to aggravate me when you’re so… fragile,” Alastor said, practically snarling as he flicked the center of Lucifer’s forehead. 

“Oh please- Khff khff!- I can still unravel your skin at the seams,” 

“I’d like to see you try, ‘Your Majesty’, your tiny little skull would be meeting the blunt metal edge of my microphone,” 

“D’aww, I appreciate the flirting, but you’re not my type… I could still give you a big, wet, germy kiss for your trouble if you want,” 

Alastor hit Lucifer over the head with his microphone, clutching the fabric on the chest of his shirt and shuddering with disgust, “You go too far,” he chided, avoiding Lucifer’s gaze by staring at the carpet. 

“Not far enough, get back over here so I can stick my tongue down your throat- Khff- KHFF!,” Lucifer teased, sticking out his tongue and tugging on Alastor’s long sleeve, giggling deliriously. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Vaggie said, pulling Alastor away from Lucifer and pushing Lucifer back into a reclined position in his makeshift bed, “Alastor, leave Lucifer alone- Lucifer, keep your tongue to yourself.” 

Lucifer folded his arms, pouting, “Fiine,” he said, plucking two tissues out of the box in his lap and blowing his ‘nose’, tossing the soiled tissues into the trash. 

“Overpowered garden gnome,” Alastor grumbled. 

“Pretentious loser,” Lucifer spat back. 

“Self-pitying recluse,” 

“Bitter self-absorbed misanthrope,” 

“A bit hypocritical coming from you, you insecure man baby,” 

“At least I can admit when I’m a hypocrite, you delusional megalomaniac,” 

Angel’s head swam as his brain tried to piece through the article on antibodies he was reading, the onslaught of syllables the two men were flinging at one another, and his own throbbing headache and sore throat, “I have no idea what the hell’s goin’ on,” he whined, clutching his sore abdominal muscles as sweat trickled down his face, soaking into his thin layer of fur. 

“Lay-about!” 

“Piss worm!”  

“Callate!” Vaggie shouted, pulling on the back of Alastor’s shirt and swatting at him before sticking a thermometer from her pocket into Lucifer’s mouth to quiet him down, “Both of you cut it out.” 

Alastor and Lucifer’s shouting roused Charlie from her slumber, the princess rolling over and sitting up with a scratchy yawn as she rubbed her eyes, looking around the room, “Mmm… wha’s happening?” she mumbled, trying to shake off the grogginess that weighed down every word that left her mouth. 

“Nice going, jackasses,” Vaggie huffed, turning to stroke Charlie’s feverish cheek with her left hand before kissing her forehead, “Nothing babe, don’t worry about it.” 

“Oh… okay, okay, I trust you- Snff snff!- I need a tissue,” Charlie rambled, blowing her nose into a folded-over tissue before settling back into her blankets with a shiver, “What time is it?” 

“Honestly I don’t even know, Angel, what time is it?” Vaggie asked, looking over her shoulder towards the spider. 

Angel groaned, massaging the center of his face before glancing at the time on his phone in the corner of the screen, squinting at the tiny print making his headache even worse, “6:15,” he said, going back to reading. 

“There you go… it’s earlier than I thought it was,” Vaggie said with a slight smile, running her fingers through Charlie’s hair, “You okay?” 

“Not really, but I’ll manage… H-kHHF! KHFFF!...(gasp)- KHFF KhFF KKHhFF!,” Charlie replied, rubbing her chest after her harsh cough and looking around the parlor, focusing on the swaying image of Lucifer, shooting him a drowsy wave, “I didn’t know my dad made it back home… Hi, Dad!”  

Lucifer waved back at Charlie, humming inquisitively at Vaggie and gesturing to the thermometer under his tongue- which had started to beep. 

Vaggie rolled her eyes, pulling the thermometer out of Lucifer’s mouth and glancing at the screen, “103.4,” she said, wiping off the thermometer with an alcohol wipe before stowing it back in her pocket. 

“Aw, you too, Dad?” Charlie asked, leaning over the arm of the sofa and resting her chin in one hand, “Sorry I got you sick… Eeihh’KsSchiew! Eh’KsSchiew!” 

“No worries, Charlie, I picked this up the old fashioned way…snff! Last time I take the bus anywhere,” Lucifer groaned, swiping at his ‘nose’ with the back of his hand.

“Wait, if both of us are sick, that means neither of us are gonna be able to go to the summit!” Charlie exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes, only for Alastor to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“No need to worry, the overlord summit has been postponed on account of the majority of its attendees being… indisposed at present,” Alastor said with a calm smile. 

“Wha?” Charlie asked, looking up at Alastor with a confused look on her face. 

“If I hear anotha’ word wit’ more than two syllables that nobody knows the meanin’ of, I’m gonna pass out,” Angel snapped, turning away from his phone to cough, tucking his head into his elbow and swallowing against the ache in his throat before going back to reading. 

“Everyone’s sick, so they’re putting the summit off until later, Babe,” Vaggie explained. 

“Oh no, that’s terrible- Eeh’Ktschhew!- sorry… wonder how everyone managed to come down with it so fast… so close together,” Charlie pondered, pulling her blankets up to her chest. 

“Ahhha!- Koff KHFF KHFF! KHHHFFF!- fuck!” Angel shouted, tossing his phone aside and massaging his face, “Finally figured out what the fuck the antibody shit means!” 

Vaggie gestured for Angel to continue. 

“It said on this stupid website… ‘A green test result means that there is no active infection, but that the body has built up a resistance to the pathogen after a past infection, typically a recent one’,” Angel said, leaning back against the loveseat and draping an arm over his eyes. 

“So that means that you aren’t sick now, and you’re immune because you were sick recently,” Vaggie said, turning to look at Alastor with an unamused glare, “Before anyone else.” 

Alastor held up both hands defensively, “I have no recollection of being anywhere near this ill, that’s absurd,” he argued. 

“Not even a week ago, when I heard you down here trying your damnedest not to cough while you made your coffee before you disappeared for four days?” Vaggie asked, tilting her head to the side as she awaited Alastor’s response. 

“I-I felt perfectly fine, I only had a bit of a cold, and I do not appreciate this accusatory tone,” Alastor replied with a huff, polishing his monocle with a microfiber cloth he pulled from his pocket. 

“Alright, what did you do that day after you left, if you don’t mind me asking?” Vaggie asked, leaning over the back of the sofa and stroking Charlie’s hair as she waited. 

“I… I had to go to a sovereign overlords meeting… and then I had to visit the seamstress where Rosie had her dress made in order to pick up the extra fabric for my ensemble, a charming young succubus, I wish I could remember her name,” Alastor began to ramble, nervous sweat coating his forehead as he fiddled with the base of his microphone and averted his eyes. 

Charlie sniffled, narrowing her eyelids, “Did she have purple hair and a star shaped tail?” she asked. 

“As a matter of fact, yes, she did, how did you know?” Alastor replied with a chuckle, only for Charlie to snarl angrily, balling her fists before throwing her pillow at his head, “Ouch! My dear, there’s no need for senseless aggression- Ouch! Hey!” 

Charlie hissed and threw another pillow, “You,” she growled, “You started all of this because you’re too stubborn and stupid to admit- let alone tell someone- when you’re sick- Snff snff!- so you just wandered around town getting germs everywhere. All. Day!” 

“I- I reject the notion, you have no proof!” Alastor exclaimed, feigning a hurt expression as he pressed a hand to his chest. 

“Bullshit, breathin’ is enough to spread it around, not even mentionin’ the kinda trail you leave behind when you’re constantly blowin’ your nose wit’out washin’ ya’ hands… you filthy fuckin’ germ-spreader,” Angel said, folding his arms and furrowing his eyebrows in anger.

“Yeah! Exactly- Eeihh’KsSCHIEW!- Oh shoot- KhHhFF khff khff! KOFF- Khhff- khHff!,” Charlie said, rubbing her chest in an attempt to calm her ragged breathing after her coughing fit. 

“This kind of aggression and hostility is quite unlike you, Charlie, I must say I’m surprised,” Alastor remarked, quickly ducking as Charlie threw another pillow at him, “The projectiles are also unlike you.” 

“Oh ffuck you!” Charlie hissed, her horns peeking out through her crown of blonde locks, the same angry red as her nose, “I’m tired, I’m cold, my whole body hurts and I can barely get up to go pee, and you act so grossed out and high and mighty about ‘germs’, I’m allowed to be mad when they’re your germs to begin with! I’m allowed to be angry sometimes! KHFFF-KHff-Khfff!” 

Vaggie gently tapped Charlie’s back, carefully making sure not to rouse Husk from his sleep as she leaned over the arm of the sofa to embrace her girlfriend, “Of course you are, Babe, but try not to get too worked up,” she whispered, kissing Charlie’s feverish neck and smiling when Charlie melted into her touch, “There we go, it’s okay.” 

“Nice going, Antlers,” Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh hush, you have nothing to do with any of this,” Alastor said, waving Lucifer off nonchalantly. 

“Hey, listen Tough Guy-” Lucifer began, sitting up and beginning to gesticulate, only for Vaggie to pull away from Charlie and walk over to Lucifer, pressing her cool hand against his  burning forehead and silencing him as he sighed in relief, “Mmm… that feels n ice.” 

“I bet it does, and if you promise to stop picking fights with Alastor I’ll go get a cool washcloth for you,” Vaggie said with a knowing smile, noticing the eager and desperate look in Lucifer’s eyes, “Promise?” 

Lucifer nodded weakly, “Mkay, I promise,” he said, lying back down and staring at his socks, chuckling to himself as his feverish mind wandered, turning the solid blue fabric into a makeshift sky, clouds drifting across the fabric. 

Vaggie sighed, turning to Alastor and gesturing at him, “Well?” she asked, unimpressed and exasperated with the nonsensical back-and-forth. 

“I… I apologize for unknowingly causing all of this… and for being a bit-” Alastor nearly gagged on the platitudes forming on his tongue, “- impersonal and detached in my methods of engaging with the afflicted, particularly in this instance since your ailments were my fault to begin with, and… I will find some way to make it up to you,” he said with a pained smile, one eye twitching behind his monocle. 

“Awww- Snff!- that was beautiful,” Charlie said, her voice cracking as she threatened to cry, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve before blowing her nose, “I forgive you… I wasn’t even that mad, I just really don’t feel well and it’s making me cranky.” 

“Perfectly understandable, my dear,” Alastor replied, fighting back a shudder and reaching out to stroke Charlie’s scalp, “Nowhere to go from here but up.” 

Charlie nodded, coughing harshly into her elbow before weakly gesturing to her three pillows that were scattered at Alastor’s feet, “Can I have my pillows back?” she asked, pitifully attempting to lean over and reach out to grab them. 

“Of course,” Alastor said, tucking two of Charlie’s pillows behind her to support her back and neck, and placing the third pillow near Charlie’s feet, “Better?” 

“Mmhm… Ehh…E-ehh… EhH’KSschew! Eihh’KtsSChiew! Eehh’KSschheww!” Charlie hummed in reply, emptying her sinuses with a desperate blow before tossing the damp tissue in the garbage, “O h hhh… my sinuses hurt.”  

“I’ll get you some decongestant after dinner,” Vaggie promised, massaging Charlie’s sinuses with her fingertips. As she massaged Charlie, Vaggie looked over and noticed Angel curled up in a half-formed fetal position, shivering, “Are you gonna be okay?” she asked. 

Angel made an indecisive gesture with his hand, wiping sweat from his brow and grimacing as an ache radiated through the muscles in his abdomen, legs, and back, “I ain’t feelin’ too hot… Hh-KHFF! KHFF!- ‘s like I got hit by a truck,” he mumbled, voice slightly hoarse from his sore throat as a hand reached up and rubbed the base of his neck.

Vaggie thumbed Charlie’s cheek for a moment, before walking over to the loveseat opposite Lucifer’s, maneuvering Angel into an upright position and pressing a palm to his forehead, “You feel plenty hot to me,” she chuckled, pulling the thermometer out of her pocket. 

“Ya know what I meant,” Angel huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Mhm, I did, open your mouth,” Vaggie instructed, sliding the thermometer under Angel’s tongue and waiting until it beeped before pulling it out, “102…2.4…2.7.” 

“Shit,” Angel said with a groan, lying back down only for Vaggie to tug him back upright. 

“Ah-ah-ah! Sit up, I’ll be right back with your pajamas, you can lie down after you’ve changed,” Vaggie said, “Where do you keep them?” 

“They’re lyin’ across my bed- Snff! Snff!,” Angel replied, his eyelids threatening to droop as a deep flush covered his cheeks, burning bright enough that it was visible through his fur. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back, Niffty make sure he doesn’t lie down until I come back,” Vaggie said, turning on her heels and disappearing up the stairs. 

Niffty giggled, standing on the back of the loveseat and gently combing Angel’s frayed hair with her tiny fingers, “You’re so sweaty I can use it like moisturizer,” she said. 

“Khhff-khff! Quit rubbin’ sweat into my hair, Niff… Snff!” Angel said, weakly swatting at Niffty only to relent, enjoying the feeling of her tiny hands massaging his scalp, the sensation practically relieved his throbbing headache, “Mmm…” 

Vaggie returned to the parlor with a silk pajama top adorned with pink lace, a pair of fleece pajama pants with button-up pockets, and a pair of large pink socks, tossing them in Angel’s lap and dusting off her hands, “You need help getting to the bathroom to go change?” she asked. 

Angel shook his head, “I got it, I got it,” he insisted, putting on the pajamas and socks, before squirming a bit and adjusting two of his arms, suddenly pulling out his shirt, jacket, pants, and boots from the waistband of his pajama pants, “All’a them years doin’ quick changes finally paid off… hHh! Hahh! Hah’TsShhew! Hah’TsSsHEW!” 

Vaggie folded Angel’s street clothes and placed them in a laundry basket behind the sofa before handing Angel a pink fleece blanket adorned with zebra stripes and a box of tissues. 

“Thanks, Vags… Snfff! Euch,” Angel said, plucking a tissue out of the box and gently pressing it to his face before emptying his sinuses in a heavy blow that sounded closer to a honk at the tail end. 

“Okay, now that everything is all settled, you four are going to stay here and rest,” Vaggie said before turning to Alastor and Niffty, “and you two are going to help me finish dinner.” 

“Of course, lead the way,” Alastor said calmly, resting his microphone in his palm and shifting his weight onto his other foot before following Vaggie into the kitchen. 

“Okey-dokey!” Niffty cheered, skipping behind Alastor and Vaggie, only to scurry back into the parlor and land an open-hand slap on Husk’s chest, rousing him from his deep slumber, before scrambling back into the kitchen, giggling uncontrollably. 

Husk snorted, rapidly shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as his ears twitched, “Hhm? KHFF-KHFFF! Fuck… my chest hurts,” Husk grumbled sleepily, opening his eyelids after a moment of struggle and looking around the room, “Mmm… what time ‘s it? Did I miss somethin’?” 

“Nothin’ important,” Angel yawned, pulling his blanket up to his chest and blowing his ‘nose’, “H-hahh…Hah’TsShew!” 

“Bless you,” Husk said, still a bit drowsy. About seven seconds passed, before Husk’s eyes widened and he whipped his head around in Angel’s direction, “Wait a minute, when the hell did you get here?!” 

Angel snickered, weakly kicking his feet as his snickers devolved into full blown laughter, laughter so intense that Angel began rolling gently from side to side, only to roll off of the loveseat and collapse onto the carpet. 

Husk rolled his eyes, “Real funny, huh Legs?” he asked, glancing over at Angel again with an unamused scoff. 

“Damn right it was funny, it was worth it,” Angel said in between guffaws and coughs, only to groan in pain as the sore muscles in his back throbbed after the initial impact, “Not completely worth it… but it was still funny.” 

Husk sighed, using the television remote cradled in his lap to turn on the TV, before rolling back over to face the base of the sofa, and falling back asleep, his soft but deep snoring filling the room as his ears and tail twitched, the rest of his body completely still and quiet. 

“HrRR’SshOO! HrR’Schuhh!” 

Well, mostly quiet.  

[stormyweaver]

Computer Virus - Vo/x, Ha/zbin Ho/tel

I couldn't not post this eventually. Been rattling around in my drafts for a while so I figured it was time it see's more than just the light of a few people's gazes. Also idk great details about computers/television besides google so uh, yeah lol. (Contains illness and minor mentions of mess) Summary: Vo/x is reminded why he never lets his co-workers use his private tech. AKA Vale/ntino you asshole.

“Fug’ck’s sake…”

Vox swallowed hard - then immediately wished he hadn’t. The action brought a pronounced, throbbing ache along the swollen, tender flesh of his throat. What had started as a barely there tickle and a slight stiffness in his joints steadily morphed into a definite virus - one that decided to bring family and friends, because it felt like his entire being was bogged down with congestion, discomfort and malaise. 

In short: It fucking sucked, and he could only blame fucking Valentino.

Every time the asshole had an issue with his laptop, he always, always used Vox’s personal one - seriously, he was gonna need to triple encrypt it at this point to keep him out - and managed to download a fucking nasty malware via some kind of porn site. By the time Vox had connected his own system to the device, it was already too late, and by the time he’d found the source, it had already been transferred to him. Part of him couldn’t be pissed at Valentino. Like, truly couldn’t. Valentino would just start cussing him out; How should I know what the fuck a computer virus looks like? What the hell is malware, anyway? On and on and on, until finally Vox would grow weary and just ban him from using any of his devices EVER again. 

A sigh ghosted past Vox’s lips, followed by a sniffle - the sound so thick, sodden and heavy that it nearly had his skin crawling. To know that he didn’t even have a nose, let alone sinuses to get swollen and yet he felt so unbearably full to the brim with congestion… It was disgusting.

He almost wanted to sneeze, if to have a brief moment where his head didn’t feel so full to bursting. Almost.

Maybe if he could call it one-and-done, but nooo. He could never sneeze just once. They came in bursts, itchy expulsions that seemed to tumble out on top of each other, so damned excited to finally be let loose. And they left Vox panting, sniveling and mortified as he tried to mop the fluid that seeped from his vents and lips. Fuck, it was so gross.

Groaning, he shifted onto his side and tugged the duvet tighter over his shoulders - he hadn’t left bed for a good few hours but fuck it. The day was a wash the moment he’d slept through his alarm. Velvette and Valentino (the virus-peddling-moth-fucker) could manage without him for one damn day. His eyes were close to shutting completely, once again allowing the haze of sleep to take over - until he felt it. Just there, right behind his eyes; an inkling of prickling irritation. He whined, squinting and uselessly screwing his expression up as though he did have a nose to wriggle and twitch. Please, just let me sleep for a minute…

As if infuriated at the mere idea that Vox wouldn’t allow himself the pleasure of sneezing, the sensation all but exploded, and a sharp hitch flew past his lips. “Fuhhhck m’be, plhhheease…!” Okay, maybe that was a little weird to be gasping out in bed - alone but, he simply didn’t care. In the moment, all Vox could do was gasp and sputter, a few more lewd-leaning sounds spilling past trembling lips before the television demon’s system couldn’t stand to have the intense irritation linger a moment longer. “heh’IISSCHHH’HIEW!” 

The first sneeze always managed to take him by surprise, if nothing else than because he was still stunned he could even sneeze so hard without a fucking nose. He cringed, feeling the pillowcase beneath his head grow a bit damp - ughhh, fucking gross - but he had all of two seconds to dwell on the mess factor before a shiver rippled down his spine. “hHHZZSCHH’hiew! hHHZZ’NGSHHh! Hehh!! Ehhh’IZZSCHH’OOoo! Unnghh… fu’huuugck…”

A pitiful whine trailed after the last exhausting sneeze. It felt like someone had just sucked whatever was left of his damned soul out of his ailing body. And the congestion somehow seemed worse, sluggishly dripping onto his already soiled pillowcase. It plugged his ears and made his head spin even while laying down. 

Despite how Vox wanted to immediately throw himself into the pits of hell itself, he settled on nuzzling deeper into his covers and tugging the comforter forcefully over his head. 

Fuck a day off. At this rate, the other Vee’s were lucky if they managed to get him back in a week.

[instarsandcrime]

Ha//zbin Ho//tel Prompts That I Cannot Write And Keep Me Awake at Night™

If anyone wants to give these a shot, be my guest! Otherwise, enjoy! ❤️

Charlie has a grand opening party for the public, and makes it a point that Alastor will be Lucifer's body guard for the evening so her dad will both be safe and it can also count as a friendship exercise! Perfect plan! Unfortunately, Charlie did in fact buy flowers for decorations that both demons may or may not be allergic to.

Husk and Angel have gotten far enough into their relationship that they're ready to go further! But Husk is feeling a bit insecure because Angel Dust is a huge porn star and he's an "old, washed up ex-overlord." And, sadly, it does not help that he has a cold on top of it. And on top of that, Angel Dust is wearing a perfume post-shoot that does not agree with an already-vulnerable nose.

Alternatively, Husk overcompensates with something Angel Dust is allergic to.

An hour before an important interview Vox catches a virus, and the effects are immediate. The other Vees are understandably worried and try to help the situation.

Alternatively, Alastor is advertising the hotel on his radio broadcast and brings Charlie in for a live interview. However, he struggles with a bad itch when Keke follows Charlie into the studio.

Angel Dust finds out Husk has a sneeze kink and tries to get him to admit it in subtle/unsubtle ways.

Lucifer is tentatively invited up to Heaven to discuss the whole Sir Pentious situation. Unfortunately since he's a demon, his meeting with Sera is a little rocky due to a holy object in the room.

[twisted-sickfics]

Ha//zbin Ho//tel Snz Headcanons

putting this out there so people will send in their own headcanons! i can even write a fic based on these hcs if that’s something you guys would want :) hope you enjoy!

Lucifer:

definitely getting itchy multiples for this guy. full sneezes, not kitten-like at all, but he has these fits that make him feel like he needs to sit down for a while afterwards

mild pollen allergy, but that’s enough to leave him sneezy for a while

can and will insist that he’s fine until it’s glaringly obvious that he’s not, in fact, fine. even then, he’ll still try to deny it

not too loud, not too messy, somewhere in the middle. it’s the length of his fits that sets him apart from anyone else on this list.

sneezes like 3 times on average, but it can be more or less depending on how itchy his nose is

Alastor:

only a few sneezes at a smile, but even sneezing once is unusual for him. it’s very unusual for alastor to lose any kind of control so sneezing is completely out of the ordinary for him

still, he’s not infallible. even one of the overlords of hell has a few allergies here and there, mostly to animals

if he’s every sick, you simply will not see him. he will be gone, off somewhere in some faraway land. unless he’s caught off-guard with how sick he actually is

somewhat loud and he can’t stifle to save his life. you’ll definitely be able to tell if he’s caught a cold (which is part of the reason why you’ll never see him if he’s sick)

sneezes in singles or doubles

Angel Dust:

super dramatic and always milks it if he has a light cold. anything worse than that and he gets oddly silent, afraid to show any true vulnerability

not allergic to much, but all of that uhhh snow takes a toll on someone’s nose. random sneezing fits that he’s had to get used to over the years

if he’s actually sick, like worse-than-a-cold sick, he gets really bad anxiety, worried that someone would take advantage of his situation

the closest to kitten sneezes you’ll get on this list, but still not quite there. they’re a little more loud, but they tend to come out in quick fits

sneezes in 3-4 or more at a time, but in quick succession

Husk:

loudest on this list (congratulations) but not quite a dad sneeze. it’s like a loud release of air, if that makes sense, and it’s over as soon as it happened.

allergic to strong scents and fragrances, which can be annoying in its own way

getting sick makes him extremely grumpy and he can and will bite your head off if you try to point out the fact that he’s sick (which isn’t exactly a secret, he tends to lose composure fairly easily when he’s sick)

definitely the kind to have bigger buildups before he sneezes

sneezes in singles, with the occasional double if something’s really irritating him

Vox (because i said so):

i don’t know if anyone’s said it already but he probably reacts more to electrical fluctuations than anything in the air (since he probably can’t sneeze in the traditional sense)

glitches instead of sneezing, with completely unpredictable outcomes. if the electricity in an area is constantly fluctuating or extremely high, that will trigger what is essentially a fit

he gets viruses the way anyone else does! and it can cause the same results as above

he still makes a sneezing sound as he glitches (because i said so) but it can sound closer to a stifle than an actual sneeze

sneezes at random, could be 1 sneeze could be 5, who knows?

[roadhogsbigbelly]

a ha/zbin ho/tel fan allegedly committed suicide due to harassment within the fandom and if that's true that's genuinely fucking horrible, but i read the doc describing the situation and the person who made it puts absolutely zero effort and show the actual harassment and instead complains about how some people in fandoms prefer certain ships to be canon over others, and like you have to show the actual harassment because that's not the same thing. like obviously people are insane about shipping but having opinions is not enough actually, i know this harrasment actual exists, but this is like when people make call-out docs on alleged pedophiles but then focus on them not liking catradora like can you not keep it fucking relevant.

[baa-whatever]

I will never understand people who ship Solarmoon or Solarruin. Like, what’s the point? Do they not remember what friendship is?

Yeah I feel like shipping has gotten worse, especially after the ha///zbin ho///tel show.

Still not over that they decided to have those characters in the Roxanne show. Though I'm pretty sure they can write those characters better along with many of the other fans.

[chubbyfunkyticklishguy]

why is the tickle community so obsessed with ha/zbin ho/tel like i am confusion /silly /ref

[loversbird]

♡𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖊♡

- artist/writer (lazy asf)

- snzblr sort of? I do snzkink stuff

- 18+ content sometimes, minor DNI

- multifandom-ish

- you can call me Lovet/Songbird, I'm 19! ^^

♤𝔉𝔦𝔠/𝔄𝔯𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱♤

✅️ you can interact if ur not a minor. Please be polite and don't attack anyone here. I would love to have a respectful vibe here!

✅️ feel free to give suggestions about any snz or non-snz ideas for me. However, since I'm always busy (and lazy asf), I may not finish all suggestions

✅️ I love to be annoying about fictional characters, and I do that a lot (yknow, a fictional husbando or waifu wont hurt smh) ! I also love to do it with other people, so if you wanna be stupid and ramble about a fictional guy (or gal) with me, hit me up!

♧𝓜𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓶𝓼♧

• hu/nter x hu/nter

• juj/utsu kai/sen

• ha/zbin ho/tel

• sd/bh

• yu/me 100

• ロイ/スキャ

• some other local books I read that hAS NO FANDOM QAQ

[curious-shadow-cat]

I don't mind if people like ha/zbin ho/tel, I'm just sick of the annoying die hard fans that end up being homophobic/sexist/etc. towards people.

[nobodybetterlookatme]

What fandoms are you into?

Not many tbh 😅 H/ouse M/D is really the only main one, and I'm also really into St/ar Wa/rs. I do like T/he Ar/can/a, and I've recently watched and thoroughly enjoyed Ha/zbin Ho/tel and He/lluva B/oss, but I don't really love them enough to make content, if that's what you're looking for. I'll definitely talk about all of them tho

[chestcongestion]

Powder and Ice: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

Warnings/ Content Tags: Mess, Mentions of Addiction and Drug Use

Word Count: 3,813

This one got away from me plot-wise, was working on a fic with a more stubborn/ in denial An/gel for a Hus/ker/dust fic, and then it inched closer to a study on An/gel and Che/rri's relationship after he starts making an effort to stay clean. I still like it, but I think I'll try another Hus/ker/dust fic later if I get some other ideas. Enjoy! ^^

It was a rainy Saturday evening, and Husk was polishing glasses when the double doors to the hotel swung open and a pair of long, thin, fishnet-clad legs sauntered their way inside. 

Setting down the martini glass he’d been cleaning, Husk gently wiggled his fluffy ears and attempted to suppress his smile as Angel approached the bar and sat down on a stool. 

“You’re back early,” Husk said, analyzing Angel’s expression and pondering whether or not he should pour the spider a drink. 

“Shoot ended early,” Angel replied, fighting back a slight shiver as the air conditioning above the bar blew over him, sending a chill down his spine and blasting frigid air onto his damp fur, “snff!” 

Husk noticed Angel’s vibrating shoulders and shot him a look of concern, sliding a bellini across the bar before going back to polishing glasses, “You alright?” he asked, testing the waters. 

“Mhm… I’m fine,” Angel replied, taking a sip of his drink and licking his lips, the bubbly prosecco hitting his nostrils, “H-hahh…Hhh… HNK-Ksshh! Hh-kxhht!” 

Husk’s ears twitched, “Bless you,” he said, still focusing on the martini glasses. 

Angel flushed briefly from embarrassment, wanting desperately to dab at his nostrils with a tissue as he felt his ‘nose’ threatening to run, but holding off, just letting it itch, and itch, and itch, “Oh, th-thanks,” he replied, “Hh! H-hihh…HnK-! Hh’Ddtsh! Hhnk’kxhht!” 

“Bless you,” Husk said, raising a fluffy eyebrow as he put away the last martini glass and popped open a bottle of vodka he kept under the counter, taking two swigs and setting it back down, “Snow day?” 

Angel shook his head. To help keep him on track while he weaned his body off of cocaine and PCP, Husk only used euphemisms and coded language to ask Angel if a shoot or particular day had been difficult enough to make him use again. So far, the system was an incredible success, and Angel had been completely clean for 4 months and counting. 

“Nuh-uh… snff!... I think it’s just the drink- Hh’Ddtshh!- bubbly always mbakes mby ndose itch… SnFF!” Angel replied, scrubbing away at his face, ice cold rainwater still dripping from his pristine white fur, threatening to crystallize under the harsh air conditioning, “H-hahhh…Hah’KsShew!” 

Husk rolled his eyes, “I never would’ve guessed… surprised you didn’t get this sensitive after chuggin’ a bottle of champagne with me that one time,” he said, drumming his fingertips against the countertop. 

“I think it’s just… snff!... more sensitive now that I’m not usin’ anymore,” Angel said, his face contorting and twitching as he tried desperately to keep from sneezing again. 

“You know what I think?” Husk asked. 

“What? That lookin’ all dewy and shiny from the rain makes me look cute?” Angel asked, leaning forward and fluffing out his furry pompadour, causing a mist of rain droplets to hit the air, glistening as they reflected the ceiling lights, “Hh!...Ha-Ah’tSshiew!” 

“That you’re gettin’ a cold,” Husk replied. 

“What? Nahh, I’m fine… I-ihh…I’m fine,” Angel said, rummaging through his pockets until he pulled out a napkin, holding it up to his ‘nose’ and letting loose, “Hihh-Ah’TsShew! H-hiIhh’TsShhew!” 

“Mhm, sure,” 

“Oh fuck off- snff!- maybe I’m allergic to you, Furball,” Angel scoffed, poking Husk’s nose. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Angel,” Husk replied, wiping off the whiskey glasses and smirking at Angel’s scowling expression.

Suddenly, the two men jumped at the sound of an energetic Cherri Bomb bursting into the parlor, covered in glowstick jewelry and wearing a scrunchie as a garter. 

“Angie! There’s a new joint opening up at the border, you should totally come with me, it’ll be fun!” Cherri said, reaching out and grabbing Angel’s hands, batting her eyelashes at him in an attempt at persuasion. 

“Sure, just lemme change first,” Angel said, shooting Cherri a half-smile as he wandered upstairs and came back down in a tube top, hot pants, and knee-high boots to replace his usual thigh-highs, “There we go- snff!- perfect.” 

“Yea! There we go, lookin’ just like old times, let’s hit the road!” Cherri cheered, pumping her fist in the air as she tugged at the neckline of her shirt and moved a piece of her hair out of her face. 

Angel inched back over to the bar, leaning against the counter and looking at Husk with pleading eyes, “Wanna come with? I could use the company,” he whispered, ignoring his watery sniffles that he seemed to punctuate each sentence with, dabbing at his nostrils with the napkin again. 

“Sure, why not,” Husk said with a sigh, tidying up everything behind the bar and pocketing a flask before mentally preparing himself to join the pair of party animals for their night out. 

“Hey, hey, this isn’t a trip to the old folks home, FancyFeast, if you’re gonna tag along you’ve gotta be cool,” Cherri scoffed, folding her arms in a manner that was more petulant than intimidating. 

“I can be cool… I’m only goin’ for Angel anyways, relax,” Husk said, stretching his arms out over his head and sticking close to Angel as the trio headed out the door- Charlie and Vaggie were on a brief trip to the Gluttony ring and would be back in a couple of days, leaving Alastor in charge, although he was also missing in action. 

“Whateva’ ,” Cherri said with a scowl, refusing to look at Husk as they traversed to the outskirts of Pentagram City in what was now pouring rain. 

Cherri and Husk were just short enough to get by sheltering themselves from the downpour with the awnings of buildings, while Angel was forced to get hopelessly soaked, his mascara and eyeliner smearing and running down the fur on his face. 

“Y’know… we aren’t that far from the hotel, we could just turn back,” Husk offered, raising his voice slightly so that the sound carried over the loud percussion of raindrops against the ground. 

“N-no way, I’b fide… I-I’ll dry off whe’d we get there…Snff- Snff!” Angel replied, his voice slightly croaky from struggling to talk over the rain with an already scratchy throat. 

Husk frowned, and inched closer to Angel while still under the safety of the awning, opening his mouth to attempt reasoning with him, only for a massive truck to whizz past, rolling their chunky tires through a deep puddle that was flooding the road, spraying Angel aggressively until he was absolutely waterlogged, his hair limp and his skimpy top threatening to slide off of his drenched chest fluff. 

“Hh-Hihh’Tsschhew! Hi-Ihh’kSsHEW!” Angel sneezed, spraying into the air before swiping at his nostrils with a damp, pitiful sniffle. 

Husk sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the group approached the club, a dingy neon sign reading ‘The Closed Freezer’ hanging in front of the brick building as obnoxious dubstep leaked out from under the steel-plated impact doors like smoke. 

“You ready to get fucked up, Angie?!” Cherri asked, gently shaking Angel’s shoulders and grinning at him with a fierce look in her eye, bouncing on her heels. 

Angel quietly dragged the heel of his wrist across his face with another congested sniffle, “Mhmm… this is gonna be fun…Hh’ktshew! ‘Scuse mbe…” he replied, waiting until Cherri wasn’t paying attention to discreetly clear his scratchy throat. 

Cherri swung the industrial doors open and a blast of freezing cold air hit Angel and Husk like a tidal wave, frost clinging to Angel’s wet fur almost immediately as they stepped inside. 

The Closed Freezer was a more literal name than Husk had previously thought, as the entire building was covered ceiling-to-floor with slippery, skin-numbing ice crystals, with chunky climate control units blasting freezing cold air into the room constantly. Husk exhaled, and watched as his breath instantly turned to fog against the frigid, dry air. 

“H-holy sh-shit,” Angel stammered, his teeth almost immediately beginning to chatter as his thin layer of drenched white fur froze over, his movements slightly stiff as ice crystals broke and reformed every time he took a step or readjusted his arms… or blinked, “H-Hi-ihh’Tshhhew! ‘KsShiiew!” 

Husk looked at the thin layer of ice that was coating Angel’s clothing like a protective lacquer and bit his tongue, “You sure you wanna do this?” he asked, wrapping one of his wings around Angel briefly in a futile attempt to warm him up. 

“Y-yes… I’b f-fide… I-ihh’tshhew!” Angel replied in a hushed tone, his sinuses leaking a stream of half-frozen mess down his face, which he struggled to wipe up with his jittery hands and chattering teeth. Once his face was clean, Angel turned away from Husk to cover a sharp, dry, almost barking cough. 

“C’mon Ange, you’ll warm up in no time once you’ve gotten pumped, you know what it’s time for, Bitch!” Cherri coaxed, holding up a plastic sandwich bag of white powder and dangling it in front of Angel’s face, gesturing toward the bathroom with her head. 

Angel bit his lip, taking a step back and fiddling with his freezer-burnt fingers, “No,” he said firmly before blowing into his hands in an attempt to warm up his freezing digits, “I’b ndot doin’ that, Cherri.” 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ buzzkill, A.D., we’re here to have fun, you can repent or whateva’ afterwards!” Cherri urged, grabbing Angel’s wrist and preparing to drag him. 

“I s-said. No.” Angel replied with a huff, yanking his hand out of Cherri’s grasp, still shivering violently, “I can have fun w-wit’out gettin’ fucked up… sNFF!... if you wanna get high, th-that’s your business, m-more power to ‘ya, but I don’t.” 

Cherri frowned for a moment, looking away from Angel in embarrassment, before regaining her spark, “Alright, fine, that’s… that’s cool, I’ll just trip hard enough for the both of us! Yeah!” she cheered, vanishing into the bathroom. 

Now alone, Husk turned to face Angel, a proud smile on his face, “That was good… Charlie would say that was ‘a healthy way to stand firm on your boundaries with a friend’,” he said, patting Angel on the small of his back. 

“I’m proud of myself,” Angel replied, turning to cover another harsh cough, the desperate barks were beginning to sound… croup-y against the stale and frosty air. 

“Angel…” Husk said, his voice probing as he folded his arms and shot the spider a knowing look. 

“What? I-ihh’tsShew! Ih’KShhew!” Angel sneezed, wiping away more half-frozen mucus with a napkin, silently thankful that nothing was smearing on his already mascara-stained face. 

“You got drenched on the walk over here and we’re literally in a repurposed meat locker… and, whether you are ready to admit it or not, you have a cold,” Husk said plainly, quietly moving his tail out of the way of a dancing drunk couple. 

“I don’t have a…a-ahh… Ii-Ahh’kTsShEW! Hh’kShew! Hnk’TsSchew!” Angel argued, letting loose a watery sniffle as his sinuses began to leak, and looking pitifully at his crumpled-up napkin. 

Husk pulled a travel package of tissues out of his pocket, waving them teasingly in Angel’s reach, a playful smirk on his face when he pulled them away as Angel reached for them, “Nope, nuh-uh,” he teased. 

“Th-that ain’t fair, Husk… SnFF!... Mby ndose is runnin’, this is embarrassin’,” Angel pleaded, holding a hand over his face to hide the trickle of mess from view.

“What, you allergic to ice now?” Husk scoffed. 

“Husk, baby, pleeease?” Angel begged, his scratchy voice cracking on the ‘please’, turning into another barking cough that seemed to suck the life out of his eyes as he visibly drooped upon catching his breath. 

“If you’re not sick, I don’t see why you’d need these, that napkin ought to work just fine,” Husk said, staring at Angel with a knowing look in his dark eyes, “Go on… you want ‘em so badly, don’t you?” 

“SnFF! Snff-snFF!” Angel sniffled pitifully, his sinuses still hopelessly dripping, his gloves damp with warm mess as he struggled to keep his composure, “Hi-Ihh’DdtsShheww! Hih’TsscHEW!” 

“C’mon Angel,” Husk teased, “Admit it, and they’re yours.” 

“F-fide! I cad’t take it- Ihh’KTsShEW!” Angel cried, “I’ve got a cold, you win, can I have the tissues now? Please?” 

“Christ, Angel- here,” Husk said with a nervous chuckle, watching as Angel desperately blew his ‘nose’ until a tissue was completely soaked, cloudy yellow-ish mess rattling in his sinuses with each sniffle, “We should go home… you sound like you’re gettin’ worse.” 

“I’b fide… SnFF! SnRkk! Fine! I’m…f-fine,” Angel argued, swallowing harshly and ignoring the throbbing sensation from his sore throat, “Besides… freezin’ stuff is a good way to kill germs, ain’t it?” 

“Yes, when they aren’t already inside you, once that happens, shivering and sniffling in a furnished freezer full of loud drunks is just a good way to get bronchitis,” Husk said, looking away sheepishly as though he was speaking from experience. 

Angel pouted, “I can take care of mbyself… snff!...IhH’TsShiew!” he insisted, tugging at his frost-covered tube top with numb fingers, muffling a hoarse, scratchy cough with his fist. 

“Mhm, ‘cause takin’ care of yourself is going out in the rain showin’ this much skin when you were already gettin’ sick,” Husk said, gesturing to Angel’s skimpy outfit, watching Angel struggle to stop trembling from the cold, “Healthy, smart decisions.” 

“Oh fuck off, SnFF!- I don’t need you to lecture me-ee… Ihh… Ihh’KTSHHEW!” Angel replied, swiping at his ‘nose’ with his thumb to alleviate the obnoxious itch. 

“Y’know, your pal hasn’t come back from the bathroom in a while… this happen often?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow as Angel let out another pitiful-sounding sniffle. 

“Sorta… she’d get lost in the moment, havin’ her fun and sometimes she’d forget about me- SnFF!- it’s fine, I’m used to it,” Angel said, his hoarse voice struggling not to crack as he fought to be heard over the loud music. 

Husk frowned, but said nothing. 

Two hours went by in a long, frosty blur. By the time the second hour passed, Husk found himself feeling slightly jittery and out-of-sorts as the piercing cold of the nightclub finally managed to hit his skin through his dense forest of fur. 

After a few minutes of pressure and pleading, Cherri had finally pulled Angel out onto the dance floor, and the two had been dancing for a while. 

Cherri hopped and bounced, pumping her fists in the air and flipping her massive mane of blonde locks excitedly; on the other hand, Angel waned, occasionally swaying his head to the oppressively loud thumping of the music, but mostly just trying to stay on his own two feet. 

Husk perked  up from his parking space at the bar when he felt a pair of ice cold, shaking hands rest on his shoulders, smelling Angel’s fragrant rose perfume from behind, “I’m not dancin’ with you… this kind of music ain’t my style,” he said firmly. 

“Don’t wanna dance…SnfF!” Angel replied, leaning forward so that more of his body weight was being pressed against Husk’s back and shoulders, “H-hihh… HiIh’DdtSshiew! I wanna go home.” 

“Hmph, now you’re ready to go? Bored of the music?” Husk scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Angel with a particular ‘I told you so’ look on his face. 

“No… No you were right- snff!- I ain’t feelin’ good,” Angel said weakly, covering a throaty cough with his arm. 

Husk noticed Angel’s trembling legs and his dazed expression, reaching a hand out to feel Angel’s cheek, chewing on his tongue when he felt heat radiating from Angel’s skin in spite of the bitter chill hanging through the nightclub. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Husk beckoned, holding Angel’s hand and gently tugging him along, only for Angel to stop in his tracks, refusing to budge, “Angel, c’mon.” 

“Wait… I wanna wait for Cherri,” Angel muttered. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake- Cherri!” Husk hollered into the crowd, folding his arms when a heavily-inebriated Cherri Bomb spun out of the intense crowd on the dance floor to meet them at the bar, “C’mon, we’re goin’ home.” 

“Oh please, this Heaven bullshit might be worth tryin’, but it in’t worth turnin’ into a square over, y’can’t force Angie to give up everythin’ that makes him happy over it,” Cherri argued, her slurred speech and wandering eye making Husk roll his eyes as she reached for Angel’s wrist, “C-C’mon Ange, let’s fuckin’ dance!” 

Angel pulled his hand away from Cherri’s grasp- not necessarily out of malice, but because he quickly held it up to his mouth to cover another croupy, barking cough. 

Struggling to catch his breath after his coughing fit, Angel clutched his chest and took a ragged inhale through clenched teeth, feeling the cold air burning his throat and shocking his sensitive lungs on its way in. The climate control was blasting in such harsh jet streams of ice-cold air that the oxygen felt thin, like the stagnant air near the top of a mountain. 

“SnrRk! He’s ndot mbaki’d mbe do a’dythi’g… Snrkk! I… Iiihh.. Hih’KsschEW! Hih’DdtSchhiew!” Angel said sharply, blowing his nose into the last of his tissues and leaning against Husk for support, still shivering. 

“Pshh, y’don’t have to pretend for the cat, Ange, I know you, we’ve still got all night to tear it up!” Cherri cheered, swatting Angel on the back, the blow to his sensitive chest making him cough. 

Cherri chuckled at the sight until a minute passed and Angel was still coughing, desperately wheezing for air whenever his lungs allowed him a quick break. Angel coughed, and coughed, and coughed. 

“Angie?” Cherri asked, reaching out to rub Angel’s shoulder, only for him to be yanked out of reach, with Husk dragging him to the exit by his waist, “H-hey!” 

“I’m takin’ him home, with or without you,” Husk spat back in Cherri’s direction, desperately rubbing Angel’s back as they moved. 

Cherri felt knots in her stomach, turning back to look at the hyped up energy of the dance floor, before refocusing her gaze on the club’s entrance and exit, the conflict and panic sobering her up just a bit, “Fuck it,” she muttered to herself, pulling off her heels- the last thing she wanted was to shatter her ankle from slipping on the icy floor- and running out the door back into the rain. 

It didn’t take long for Cherri to find Husk and Angel, Angel quickly grew lightheaded and exhausted by the end of his coughing fit, and dropped to his knees a few paces away from the club’s entrance. 

“Angie?” Cherri asked again, sitting down next to Angel’s desperately panting form, watching her friend’s chest rise and fall drastically. “What happened?” Cherri asked, turning to Husk for answers as Angel struggled to catch his breath. 

“Exactly what the fuck I said was gonna happen, he spent over two hours dickin’ around in a giant freezer while soaking wet when he was already sick, and now his lungs are kickin’ his ass for it,” Husk scoffed. 

“I’m-” Angel paused to cough again, finally getting some air in his lungs to the point where he could relax his shoulders and support his weight without leaning to hold himself up, “-I’m fine… Snrkk!- it was just so cold in there, the air was blowin’ so hard, I was fine for a while and then suddenly I couldn’t breathe.” 

“You okay?” Cherri asked. 

“Ndot really-” Angel said with a sniffle, “I…I shouldn’t have come out tonight- snFF!- I was already sick and this just mbade it worse.” 

Husk bit back the urge to smirk. 

“Why’d you agree to come?” Cherri asked, “Y’ could’ve told me, bitch, I’d have gone alone and brought y’ along some other time.” 

“I’ve been turnin’ ya down a lot… Ihh’Ddtshhew!, didn’t want ya to think I didn’t wanna hang anymore just ‘cause I got clean,” Angel admitted, coughing slightly as he rubbed his chest, “It’s just that hangin’ out can be… a lot, even when I don’t feel like shit.” 

Cherri, now far more cemented in her right mind, looked back on some of her behavior from the night and rested a hand on her best friend’s thigh, “Sorry Ange,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the rain, “Still gettin’ used to the new you… I’m tryin’, I promise.” 

Angel rolled his eyes, “h-Hihh’Ddtshhew! Ih’DdtSsHEW! I’b ndot that different, Cherri… I would’ve been happy to hang out wit’ ya if I wasn’t… Hih’DdtSHHEW!... sick,” he explained, “Mbe bein’ clean doesn’t- Snff!- mean I don’t wanna have fun anymore.” 

Cherri smiled, slowly rising to her feet and pulling Angel up after her, “C’mon, let’s go home,” she said. 

“I-Ihh’KtSschew!” Angel sneezed, dragging the heel of his palm under his nostrils, “Uch, I’m outta tissues.” 

Cherri fished around in her pockets, pulling out a beige square of cloth and handing it to Angel, “I usually keep these around to make molotovs, but you can use it as a snot rag tonight,” she said. 

Angel wiped his face off, slightly embarrassed, but choosing not to be too headstrong about it, “Thanks,” he mumbled, beginning to sound hopelessly stuffy as he blew his ‘nose’ into the cloth. 

Upon arriving back at the hotel, Angel was practically dead on his feet, soaking wet from the rain for a second time, and struggling to find a dry spot on his damp makeshift-handkerchief that he could use. 

“hHihh… Hi-ihh’ktschhiew! Ih’KtsSchew!” Angel sneezed. 

“Bless you,” Husk sighed, “I’m gonna go root through the medicine cabinets to see if we’ve got any cold medicine while you take a hot shower and get changed.”

“Mkay,” Angel replied, too exhausted to argue or attempt to challenge the passive demand, “I-ihh’KTsSchhew!” 

“Oh wait, Angie!” Cherri called out, pulling a plastic bag out of her pockets that was filled with what looked like rock salt, “Here-” 

“Cherri… what the-” 

“No, relax! It’s bath salts… they’re uhh… Eucalyptus and lavender,” Cherri offered, “If you put ‘em on the floor of the shower, the steam helps a ton… that’s not why I have ‘em, but you can still use ‘em that way!” 

Angel smiled, hugging the bag to his chest, “Thanks Cherri,” he replied, nervously rubbing the back of his head, “Once I’m outta the shower… you wanna watch a movie?” 

Cherri smiled, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around with her index finger, “Fuck yea,” she replied, resisting the urge to eagerly shake Angel by his shoulders, “See ya when you get outta the shower, dickhead!” 

Angel nodded, shooting Cherri a curt wave, and turning to head upstairs for an all-too-necessary hot shower and a warm pair of pajamas. Halfway up the steps, Angel paused, fanning in front of his face as an itch built in his sinuses. 

“What’s he doin’?” Cherri asked Husk in a hushed tone, watching Angel remain frozen on the steps, “Should I go ask him what’s wrong?” 

Husk shook his head, counting down the seconds with his claws, “Nahhh, watch this- in three… two… one-” 

“hI-IHH’KTSsSCHHIEW!” 

“That was it,” Husk whispered to Cherri, snickering as Angel disappeared up the steps.

[domiinion]

"Dude...where is like your fuckin nose? You got nostrils on your face or what? I mean, it doesn't matter. If your race has a different thing going on I get that! I just am trying to figure it out is all."

Blink. Blinkity blink blink. 

Who is this person? How did they get on her ship? 

VERY important questions! NONE of which does she hold the answers to! And so, Dominator needs to take a second to herself before even coming up with a semblance of a response. 

“Well, yeah, I DO have nostrils. And I HAVE a nose. It’s just not, y’know, visible. And I WISH I could say that that’s a question I don’t get very often, but, it is what it is, I guess.” 

“Now…” She raises a clawed finger and points it at her unexpected, and possibly intoxicated, ‘guest’. 

“.. If YOU’RE a cat… then WHY do you have wings? A question for a question, amiright?” 

[diviinitas-moved]

me: i wish we had more positive ace rep

me as soon as a cool villain is confirmed to be ace: 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

[grossgeck]

I think Al//Astor and Hu//sk from Ha//zbin Ho//tel should do the brrrbbbbppftttt