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icarusredwings · 2 months ago

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It's Bed Time, Kiddo. Part 1/3

Writing this was kind of hard because imagining being tucked in by THE Wolverine is the safest feeling, and It makes me tired.

No tws!

Standing at the door with all of her things, Vanessa had a bitter sweet smile on her face as she saw how melted Wade was into his shoulder, clinging to him like wax that was still moveable but so warm and content where it was.

"Thanks again for coming on such short notice. And for the food.. how uhm.. How much do I owe you?" He says to her, very gently moving him to the other shoulder in order to grab his wallet.

She shook her head. "Nothin' just... take care of him. He deserves it."

"He does, doesn't he?" He muttered, running a hand over his back as he whined.

"Yeah.. Hey, uhm.. Logan?" She asks, tilting her head and took a breath after moving her weight to the other foot. He could already tell that she was nervous and now he was too. It's not that she wasn't nice and all. It's just.. He's tried being in the middle of stuff before. It never works out for him.. and he didn't want to ruin what they already had going on.

"Look, Vanessa I-"

"I want you to keep this.."

He blinks as she hands him the faded Spiderman sippy cup. Looking at it for a moment, he tried to process what this meant.

"But... this is yours?"

She nods. "I know. I want you to have it."

"...Why?"

Ness rolls her eyes with a sigh. Were all men this stupid?

"Because. He likes it. Just keep it okay? Besides, I'm going to buy some bluey one's soon so.. you know.."

He didn't connect it just yet but was starting to get there. "But.. This is his first cup.."

She nods again. "I know."

Just before Logan could understand, Wade whined something about his "Mommy cuppie" being his favorite.

"Yeah? I know honey. But now it's Kitty's cup. Okay? I uhm... I have work tomarrow. So.."

"Yeah..." He said this as if just now realizing that the transfer of his cup was more than just a cup. He didn't quite understand what exactly but knew that there was something definitely more than her deciding to gift him the old cup.

"Anyway.... Time to get this one to bed. See ya around, Vanessa?"

He asks, giving her a stern look as if threatening to break her skull in half if she was trying to leave him. The both of them. He wasn't ready to take sole responsibility for him, nor knew how to explain to him that Vanessa... left.

In the not so physical kind of way.

She let out a scoff of a chuckle. "Yeah. Just give me a call whenever. Okay? Bye bye baby." She says to Wade, kissing his limp hand.

As if hearing "Bye bye" woke him up, Wade sat up, gruggily and tired. "Noo... no no no noo nooo." He whined, his arms lazily reaching out for her to take him instead. She couldn't leave if he slept on top of her, right? That was his logic, anyway.

Snorting, Logan smiled, closing the door, rubbing his back, and kissing his head. "Oh yeess, yes yes yes yes yeess." He coes, having adored when Wade was like this. Sleepily babbling for Mommy and that he 'wasn't tired' despite both of his eyes struggling to stay open and his chin was leaning on his shoulder, starting to drool.

"Shhh. It's bedtime."

"Nnnoo... mommy.." He groaned, softly kicking his legs as if trying to squirm out of his grip.

"Mommy's going to bed, and you are too. You've had a rough day. Sleep all ya want, Kid."

"MmmMMmfh!!"

"Oh yeah?"

This was Wade's 'If my feet were touching the ground right now, I'd SO stomp my feet' grunt.

"Cranky little thing, ain't you?"

Taking him into the bedroom, he collected his stuffies, laying him down, and began to tuck them in with him the way he liked.

" 'm not liddle.." He mumbled.

"Oh, my mistake. What are you then? A big tough guy?" By now, He was just teasing him. It wasn't often he was so tired that he could treat him this way. It's taken him a bit to get used to the baby talk, but he had to admit it was kind of fun. To be able to tease him.

Wade was so tired that he shrugged.

And yeah, that sounded so messed up, teasing a guy who was just a kid right now, but to Logan, it felt.. natural. Because Wade wasn't a kid in the sense that he's said way worse things with that potty mouth of his, but because Wade kind of enjoyed a bit of fuss. A bit of play fighting. "For Funsies"

"Good night, Wade. Don't let the bedbugs bite." He tells him.

"Kitty.."

"Yeah, Bub?"

He pointed to his star night light.

"Oh, right." He bends down to click it on. "Better?"

No response but a snore. Logan can't help but smile and sigh heavily, beginning to quietly clean up the room of the cryaons and other toys out. He didn't need Althea tripping or dying because of a coloring book.

Finding that crumbled up paper from earlier, He glances back at him, watching as his chest and shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath through an open drooling mouth. God, he was so cute. How could anyone want to hurt him? He quite literally played himself to sleep.

Picking it up, he gently unfolds the crinkles, trying to make out what it said in the dark. Shaking his head, he put it in his pocket, putting everything away before leaving. After silently closing the door, he took out the paper again, curiosity killing the cat.

It said "I Kitty" with a heart made out of blood in the middle of the two words. He knew it was blood because the blood was coming down from a picture of a dead guy. On the drawing, too, was him in his suit, claws drawn and full cowl.

He chuckles, blushing some. Wade had made him extra buff in the picture. So buff that his biceps had biceps and in the other corner was wade in his own costume with big heart eyes.

Was this how he truly saw him? As such a powerful person to rely on? Someone to look at with massive pink heart-shaped eyes?

Coming into the kitchen, he pinned it to the fridge with a hello kitty magnet. "There.." now it was where it belonged. Stuck to the fridge for everyone to see instead of half ripped up on the dirty floor.

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool 3 #wolverine #vanessa carlysle #blind Al #mary puppins #kid wade #Care Giver Logan Howlett #kitty and kid #sfw interaction only #sfw agere #it's bed time kiddo #go to sleep

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Astarion x reader (Tav)

Prompt: Astarion wants to repay you for all the blood you share with him!

Description: There was an undeniable attraction between the two of you; Astarion could taste it on your skin before he took a bite, see it in the way you couldn't meet his eyes when you spoke to him. Perhaps you just needed him to push you in the right direction. He did owe you, after all.

Rating: sfw (ikr)

Word Count: 1869

Content Warnings: fem reader (use of she/her), reader is mentioned to be a cleric of selune but it's just a liddle bit, the first part is dub conish until Astarion Realizes (there's nothing crazy, they only get as far as removing clothing), ask to tag!

Notes: Okay this was originally supposed to be not sfw. right. I had this whole dub con scene planned out and it was gonna be so GOOD but. then I remembered I can't write nsfw (at least I can't do it quickly lol) so I decided to make a version where Astarion makes the right choice instead. I still have plans to write the original (I imagine you can find the part in this where I decided to go another direction lol) because as much as we stan a man who grows. I am also here for a guy who doesn't learn at all and perpetuates his own hurt and grief on to other people (me). Also wow I need to get more screenshots of Astarion...

That night, not too long ago. When your blood singed louder to him than anything had before. When you laid gently before him, not even stirring. Trusting your allies. Trusting him. It was all so intoxicating-- so much so, that he couldn’t help but take a bite.

Perhaps it was luck, perhaps it was because you sensed him, or perhaps because something holy in you sensed something wretched in him. You awoke before Astarion could sink his teeth in you, before he could taste your sweet blood and feel your fleeting pulse under his fingertips.

He had expected a stake in a chest, the loss of this terrible life. What he hadn’t expected was your sympathy-- nor your understanding. No, when you invited him to dine on your blood (with such an adorable look on your face-- it’s a wonder he was the first to taste you), nearly let him kill you because you didn’t know how to tell him to stop-- it was a gift. One he truly hadn’t forgotten. Especially when, sweet as sugar, you invited him to drink of you again.

After all this, you deserved to be payed back! You had given him so much it was only fair Astarion share what he could with you. As it happened, the only currency he had was his body and you were being a little too stubborn to take his kindness.

“Astarion, really--” He had cornered you in your tent. Everyone else was asleep at this time of night, but not you, little adherent of the moon maiden. Your prayers had only just concluded as he invited himself in (a luxury he was sure to abuse now that he could).

“No darling, I insist.” He scoots in closer to you, chasing your warmth. “Let me make it up to you. I want you to feel as good as you make me feel.” His cool breath ghosts upon your skin, and he delights in the way your cheeks flare in the pale light of your candles.

“I’m just not sure about it.” You spare a glance at Astarion and have to quickly look away from him. He’s really putting on the charm tonight and if you continue to look his way, it might work.

“Well why not?” Astarion isn’t having it, cupping your cheek so you look to his face, to his wide red eyes. “I know you’re attracted to me. When you think I’m not looking you can’t keep your eyes off me, but as soon as I look your way…” Astarion takes a moment to appreciate the color on your cheeks, the way you seem to look for an escape a moment before giving in and looking into his eyes.

“It’s not that, trust me, I think you’re very nice to look at…” You close your eyes a moment, trying to gather yourself and your thoughts. You just, didn’t know how to breach the topic. You knew it wasn’t embarrassing, but to have to tell Astarion of all people that you were still a virgin… Well, it but a knot in your stomach.

“Well then what is it?” He urged, hand tracing down your cheek to rest on your neck, to the spot where he had tasted your sweet, sweet blood again and again.

“I’ve just. Never laid with anyone before!” You say the words quickly, closing your eyes lest you see his reaction to the truth.

“Really?” Astarion can’t deny the excitement that floods through him. This merely sweetens the pot for him. To have a precious little cleric share her virgin blood with him (Astarion can merely smirk at how mad that would make Cazador), to have her promise to take down that same wretched master, and now to induce in her in a way no one else ever had. Why, it’s as much a gift for him as it is for her! With that, Astarion cools his expression, tries to chill the desire suddenly running through him.

“Aww, a little cleric of Seluné, having never felt the touch of another?” Astarion can’t help but coo, his words smooth as he teases. Cliche, perhaps, but still enticing. “Saving yourself for someone special?” He laughs again. “Or perhaps saving yourself for me?”

“I didn’t say--” Astarion cuts you off with a soft ‘shh’, gently lowering you down on your bedroll.

“You didn’t have too, darling. I can see in you what you can’t speak aloud.” He moves atop you, leering over you with a devilish look in his eyes. “You want this just as bad as I do, you just do have the words to say it.” With that, he descends upon you, lips meeting in what you can only call a sweet kiss. Sweet enough, in fact, to lure you in; soft and kind for fleeting precious moments before his hunger wins over and you are devoured like the treat you are. He’s overwhelming; hands upon you, peeling away you camp clothing and craving your warmth. He barely parts from your mouth, just enough for a heady intake of you.

“How did I manage to hold back for so long?” His words are spoken with a large, savored sigh. “Just look at you, all needy and obedient under me. A perfect little pet.” His words have your whole body flushing. You could probably easily push him away-- you know you’re stronger than him and if your desperate you’ve a war hammer not even a meter away from where the two of you lay. But you aren’t sure you want to. Aren’t sure if you should.

When Astarion lifts the hem of your shirt, you lift your arms for him, so the fabric can be thrown away. So too does his shirt go. When his hands snake to your pants, and wiggle them past your hips, past your thighs to join you prayer book in the far corner, you do not stop him. Nor do you stop him from removing his own worn and threadbare pants; they join you other clothing in the small confines of your tent, until the two of you are left in your undergarments, looking at one another with wonder and lust and fear and everything that stands between.

You hadn’t noticed you were trembling until Astarion leaned in close to you again, taking your hand in his. “Sorry, I just,” The words tumble out of you before you can think to stop them. “Just, nervous.” You manage to get out, carefully tracing his features for any hint of teasing or remark.

“That’s alright,” Astarion pauses, because he can’t quite remember the last time someone looked as scared as he always felt. He stops and considers a moment if this was something you truly wanted-- but if it wasn’t you wouldn’t have let him get this far in the first place, would you? But then he sighs, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours with his eyes closed.

“This isn’t right, is it?” Astarion pauses a moment, opening his eyes to really take you in. You were still shaking like a leaf, eyes wide and fearful. It was like looking into a mirror for the first time in 200 years. How could he even think to force you into this when it was something he had tried to avoid the entirety of his undead life?

“It’s…” You sigh and shake your head no. “It was never that I didn’t like you, or find you attractive… I’m just not ready. But… I didn’t want to lose the chance to be with you, either.” You admit. “I should have stopped you but…” You pause as Astarion gently pulls off of you.

“No, I should have…” Astarion pauses as well, pushing air out through his nose. “I should have listened to you.” He sits, turned away from you, and you study the intricate runes on his back as you both take a long moment to speak.

“I… should leave.” Astarion moves to get his clothing together, and you sit up straight as well.

“Wait! Just because I don’t want to have sex, doesn’t mean I don’t like your company.” You pull on your own shirt as well, watching as he turns your way with a confused look on his face. “I still like spending time with you.” You admit, face just as pink as when you admitted you were a virgin.

“… You really do, don’t you?” Astarion settles a moment, watching your face as your bright eyes flash his way a moment. “Even if you did try to lie it would be easy to tell…” He retreats to his thoughts a moment, considering his next move. “If I do stay, what would you have us do?” He rests again as you sheepishly pull your pants back on under his watchful gaze.

“Well…” You look to him. “I liked being close to you, actually.” You admit. “It was nice to be held by you.” You seem shy all the sudden, but your request is rather tame compared to what Astarion was more than ready to do to you.

“You just want to cuddle?” Astarion is equal parts surprised and amused. It’s not as if he hadn’t but, well it had never been with anyone he dared to care about. You are different, in that sense. He’s put a lot of chips on you, no doubt… And though he wouldn’t dare to put a title to it, there is a certain sense of affection he held for you. One that, perhaps he can indulge for now. “Well… I suppose there’s no harm in that.”

You light up. “Really?” You smile at him, wide and unabashed. Astarion finds he likes that look much better than the fear you wore mere minutes earlier. It suits you much better. “You don’t mind?”

Astarion scoffs, perhaps to hide his own excitement at the prospect. “I said I pay you back, didn’t I? Who am I to complain how you decide to spend our time together?” He acts nonchalant but you can’t help but keep smiling. “Now, come here.” Astarion scoots in closer to you, holding his arms out and makes a little grabby motion with his hands. You can’t help but giggle but nonetheless comply, moving in closer to him and allowing him to encircle his arms around you. You circle an arm around his neck, and rest one on his chest, sighing in content.

“This is nice.” You hum out, eyes closed as you snuggle closer to him. Astarion can’t help but admire how serene you look.

“You’re still shaking…” He notes, even as he holds you close and tries to follow your lead. Isn’t this what you wanted?

“This time, it really is nerves.” You confirm, opening your eyes to look at his face. “I’m okay though, I promise.” You cuddle in closer to him, once again closing your eyes. It’s both quite alarming and fascinating how much you seem to trust Astarion but… This time, he won’t be that trust to shame.

The two of you would go at this (whatever this was, he noted; everything seemed strange and new) at your pace. Because maybe, just maybe… that was what Astarion needed too.

#Astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #here we go again boys #can you believe he's not even my fav #i just keep having these ideas

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agentrouka-blog · 6 months ago

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Accidentally stumbled into a Sansa anti (well they call themselves an Arya stan but they apparently think those things go hand in hand)blog and am now baffled and a little disgusted at the amount of vitriol these people have for..a little girl, honestly they had reblogged a post about how Arya being believed to be a hostage to Ramsay galvanised so many people in the North, etc and the difference between that and Sansa being the Lannisters hostage/Tyrions bride, and like..so this little girls life being worthless to these men (whether that's true or not) is somehow validation for you? Honestly it's a little disturbing (there's also a pattern of most of them hating Alicent as well which seems..meaningful)

Ah, yes, the fantasy that they have that the North uniquely loves Arya and somehow instinctively rejects Sansa, and that this would be a good thing rather than screaming misogyny. 😊

There's exactly one group in the North agitating for Ned Stark's daughter herself (the one within reach of them, mind) and that's the mountain clans, for two reason:

Distant family loyalty, alongside Stark loyalty. (A Liddle also aids Bran in the mountains.)

A culture that encourages them to seek death, not survival, at this particular time where Stannis comes knocking.

His father's mother's mother had been a Flint of the mountains. Old Nan once said that it was her blood in him that made Bran such a fool for climbing before his fall. (ASOS, Bran ll)

It was a tale that any northmen knew well. "My father's grandmother was a Flint of the mountains, on his mother's side," Jon told her. "The First Flints, they call themselves. They say the other Flints are the blood of younger sons, who had to leave the mountains to find food and land and wives. It has always been a harsh life up there. When the snows fall and food grows scarce, their young must travel to the winter town or take service at one castle or the other. The old men gather up what strength remains in them and announce that they are going hunting. Some are found come spring. More are never seen again." (ADWD, Jon X)

"Winter is almost upon us, boy. And winter is death. I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned's little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. No one sings songs of men who die like that. As for me, I am old. This will be my last winter. Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die. I want to feel it spatter across my face when my axe bites deep into a Bolton skull. I want to lick it off my lips and die with the taste of it on my tongue." (ADWD, The King's Prize)

Let's not overtly romanticize the North. Manderly's money is on Rickon the son. There's a sizable faction actually supporting the Boltons (Dustin/Ryswell and Karstark). No one lifts a single finger for "Arya" until Jon gives Stannis the advice to gather support in the mountains with his army, and those are the ones with comparatively little to do but die and "bathe in Bolton blood".

The main aspect here is opportunity v. cost.

But more to the point, just as you point out, if it was Sansa that Jeyne was pretending to be, it would be the same. It's not the girls (within their actual reach) they specifically care for, it's Ned and House Stark.

The specific (small) subset of Sansa Anti/Arya stan that pushes these takes is, indeed, less interested in Arya, the actual books and the political dynamics therein, than they are in a distorted Cinderella fantasy where Arya is uniquely chosen and loved over Sansa. The rejection of Sansa is as central to that fantasy as the elevation of Arya, because the Mean Girl needs to be vanquished and punished in order to destroy the very notion in the world that Their Projection Surface was ever not The Prettiest And Bestest, deprived of the admiration she rightfully deserved by the cruel machinations of a middleschool bully.

You know, that's the complex philosophical, political and literary themes and interpersonal dynamics that GRRM is known for. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#anti arya stans #sansa stark #mountain clans #fandom foolery

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instarsandcrime · 5 months ago

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Returning the Favor (2/4)

Thank you again for the wait! I tried not to put too much fluff into what came next, but my brain ended up doubling down instead. I hope you enjoy more Sick!Husk featuring Alastor and his shadow-- as well as a few little details at @onetrickponi's request. Which admittedly was a bit of a challenge considering how I write this absolute freak of a deer man! Also Lucifer helping in his own awkward, unintentional way. 🫡

Enjoy!

---

The world came back to Husk slowly, in pieces. He twitched his aching joints. He massaged a pounding head. He inhaled– to no success– through a thoroughly clogged nose. All the while hushed voices came and went like the tide. Glitched, warped, brushing his ears like smoke on the water, a fog just barely touching the surface. Then it thickened, increasing in speed until–

“Gah!” Husk gasped, suddenly face to face with the outline of a figure that sat heavily on his chest. He scrambled in a panic, world tilting beneath him as he hit the carpet. Curiously and completely unbothered, the monster simply craned over his fallen body. Alastor, but not quite. The fragmented reflection of him.

His shadow.

“Ugh…” Husk put a hand on his chest, unable to stop a few coughs from slipping out. “Wh– kaff! What– koff kOFF!” His chest crackled painfully as he spiraled into a fit. But cool hands rested on his back, delicately creeping under his armpits to drag him back onto his soft mattress.

No– they were couch cushions. That’s right, he closed his eyes in the parlor to rest for a second and then–

“How long’ve I– snff! How long’ve I been out?” He rasped out.

The shadow simply swirled through the cracks in the fireplace, returning not a moment later to hold a pocket watch from…somewhere. Briefly, absent-mindedly wondering if its owner wouldn’t miss it too much, considering how the twisted apparition eyed it with a sparkle.

“What the fuck? How did I sleep through the fuckin’ afternoon?” Husk breathed, watching the pendulum swing back and forth, quick heartbeat pounding in time. Shit, maybe he really did need the rest. Wait, he’s right next to the lobby. Why is the lobby empty? Where was everybody? All mysteries were unraveled as he nearly jumped out of his fur. The back of another hand rested on his forehead, and he yanked it away by the wrist. “Will you fuckers stop doing that?! I said I…I-I’m fi…fi…”

Shit.

“F-fih!…hhheh…” He scrambled for a tissue with none to be found. His pockets were empty. Shit shit shit!

“Hhh…hhhHHH–! No, nhhh- no…don’t…don’t you fuckin’ sneeeh–!”

Holding back was completely useless, nose twitching too irritably to stop. Between a thin film of tears there was a sudden blur of movement, and with a flourish Husk could see the shadow present a tissue box. Muttering small thanks under hiccuping breaths, he finally let the torture end.

“HUT’TSHHHOOOO! HUP’SHHHHH! H-huhhh..! Hhhh…hghhh…snff! Ugh.” He let loose a gurgling nose blow. Then another. And another. Until he raised his pounding head to find the shade stare back at him expectantly.

“Alrighdt, fide.” Husk huffed, tail slapping angrily against an armrest, “I’b a liddle sigk, so whadt? I…I’b subbosed to be adt wor– snrff! adt work ri’de nuhhh…now…HAT’SHHHUH!”

And the shadow continued to stare as a blush flared behind his tissue.

“...I’b ndot subbosed to be sigk. People nehh– need– HET’SHHHHhhuh…ugh, snff! need someone to talk to, y’know? Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a lot goin’ on right now.”

Finally, like the mere mention of its presence guided it, the lanky thing outstretched its hand, pointing a gnarled finger at his chest.

“Me? I’m fine.” Husk shrugged. His boss’s companion narrowed his eyes and pointed again. No way of getting around it now, he supposed. Charlie and Vaggie were testament to that. For some reason. “Other than the, uh…fever, I guess. I jus’ need more rest or somethin’. I don’t– what?”

The shadow looked expectantly.

“What? What more do you want? A written confession?” Husk huffed.

And slowly, carefully, he traced the shadow’s eyes to the tissue box.

“Oh.” Husk flushed a little brighter, “I don’t need anything, trust me. ‘Preciate the offer, though.”

A pause.

“...You’re really not gonna leave me alone ‘till I need somethin’, aren’t you?” And all at once the shadow fully sprung to life, spine ramrod straight, ears pricked high.

Husk threw his head back to swallow a frustrated groan. “Fine, fine! I’m a little hungry. But that don’t mean I–”

Too late. In an instant the shadow zipped away, then back again, a steaming bowl of oatmeal and glass of orange juice placed on his lap. “Uh. Thanks.”

He needed to apologize to the poor guy who’s breakfast got stolen too. But still.

“My head’s, um.” Shit, why was this so hard, “Kinda killin’ me. Do we got any meds to take the sting off?”

A blur passed by his eyes, met with a few blue, translucent pills. And despite the hot embarrassment that traveled down his neck, he grew just a little bolder. “A blanket would be nice too. Something soft.”

In an instant a warm, fuzzy comforter was wrapped around his shoulders. Fuzzy and pink, freckled with glitter. His brow furrowed as the fluff tickled the tip of his nose.

“Wait, is this Angel Duhh…D-Dust’s…! W-wait, hhh…hhholdoHHHN-!”

Another tissue pressed into his palm just as he bent at the waist, “HET’CHHHMPHH! HUH’MMPHH’HHOOoo…” Husk breathed out a sigh of relief when the disaster seemed to fade–

“My, that sounded dreadful!”

–and immediately proven wrong, jumped in place. “Jesus, fuck!”

“Why Husker, I’m wounded!” Alastor hovered a hand over his chest, “Don’t you recognize me? Your beloved radio host, now in spectacular technicolor!”

“Yeah.” Husk deadpanned, eyelids falling to half-mast. “It’s a real honor.”

Humming softly, The Radio Demon strolled to his caregiver, shooting his runaway a displeased glare. “Ah, there you are! I apologize for the interruption. I didn’t realize my shadow had ventured its way so far from home.”

“What? You didn’t kick him outta your room or somethin’?” Husk asked.

“Hardly.” Alastor sniffed dismissively, “I sent him on an errand and it seems his mind went elsewhere. Exploring our new home, most likely.”

“I. I don’t. What?” Even over Alastor’s shoulder in the empty space, he could see strewn belongings from exercises and art classes pressed between the cracks of a quiet lobby. Charlie’s dream fully realized and fully uncleaned. Wait. Where the fuck was Niffty?

“Now now, come here. Let’s not bother our pet any longer.” Alastor cooed, tapping the heel of his cane on the ground– shockingly, to no effect. And for just a split second, his smile nearly cracked. He cleared his throat, biting back a wince along the way. The shadow simply stood there, by the attempted entrapments.

“What the–” Tap. “Of all the nerve–” Tap tap tap!

And much like waking up, everything started to come together in pieces. The emptiness of the hallway that gave him peace and quiet. How Alastor’s shadow spoiled Husk without him even knowing it.

“Holy shit.” Husk huffed out a disbelieving laugh, “Are you worried about me?”

Alastor froze before another summon could be cast, cane’s heel hovering just centimeters above the floor. On a good day, Alastor was a closed book– wrapped in thorny lies and rosy promises. But ever so subtly the overlord’s scarlet eyes darted, a trapped animal looking for an escape. Before clearing his throat a second time, whirling around on his heel with a more composed smile– knuckles undoubtedly ashen under his taut gloves.

“Ha! Husker my good man, you flatter yourself! You’ve proven to be very useful to this hotel, it’s true! Useful to it and myself– despite the fact that you’re a complete and utter failure of a man!” He hovered over his prey until he was inches from its face. Basking in the sudden chill that shook the lowly thing to its core. “But please, do pretend I care. I’d love to see what ridiculous delusions you…y-you…”

The air filled with static. The eerie glow of The Radio Demon’s eyes brightened, akin to a deer caught in headlights.

“Boss?” Husk muttered.

And all too suddenly The Radio Demon’s speech was interrupted, scrambling for the handkerchief in his breast pocket.

“Eschhh’hhhew! Et’chhh’hhew.”

Behind him the shadow curled up, wrapping tightly around Husk’s own dark reflection. An echo of a sudden loss of control as Alastor pitched helplessly again.

“EP’Sschhhh’hhew! Hehh..het’KSHHZZT!” With the itch finally satisfied The Overlord cursed, turning to dab at the mess he refused to show.

Oh.

Ohhhh.

For the first time in a long, long time, Husk had never felt more in control.

“Stop that.” Alastor protested, muffled by a slowly-soaking fabric. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“C’mon, enough already. You caught my cold from hoverin' over me and it’s showin’ how sappy you really are.”

“You smug, arrogant, flea-bitten mutt!” Alastor snarled, whirling around to flash his fangs. The cracks in his teeth beading with blood. The sound of bones cracking as his body grew just a little taller. Antlers towered like an elk’s crown. “You don’t know who you’re talking to! You think you know everything. You think you know everyone! But you’re not as perceptive as you think you are. And if I hear one more word out of you I’ll pluck out each and every one of your vocal chords and feed the shreds to the…the streets of…of C-cannibal Tuhh- town…!”

“Your shadow’s sneezing its head off. You know that, right?”

The monster’s transformation suddenly faltered, face dusting slightly pink. And with an offended scoff, the radio demon retreated into the hallways. But not before one more damning sneeze wracked the walls and short-circuited the lights and setting off the soft jazz of the radio nearby.

Somehow, absent-mindedly, Husk wondered if he should buy the stubborn idiot a drink.

The next time Husk opened his eyes he was curled just under the roof, tucked somewhere between a balcony, its shadowed nook underneath, a steaming hot toddy, and a half-empty tissue box. Wings fluffing as he ripped a cluster of tissues apart to pitch helplessly.

“HET’SHHHHOO! HEP’SHHH’HHOO! HEH! H-hehhh…nhhh…”

“Oh! Fancy seeing you here!” An anxious voice chuckled.

Husk jumped in place, twisting his torso to look up at The King of Hell– who looked just as surprised to see him, touting a smile so anxiously sharp that it could cut glass. Though that seemed to be the only thing in character for the royal hermit. His clothes were askew in ten different ways. His bowtie was crooked, and–

Husk’s damage report was halted with the snap of his fingers, and with a flash of golden light everything was back in place. Still. “The fuck happened to you?”

With a scandalized huff, Lucifer sat beside Husk, and with the flick of his wrist appeared a cigar. “Well I’ll certainly tell you what was supposed to happen. I was supposed to have an interview.”

“An interview?” Husk echoed. With another snap, a ruby hellfire sparked the tip to life. “Didn’t you show up at the bar two days ago, tellin’ me that you wanted some peace and quiet?”

“Ughhh, if only! Charlie bounded up to me, these adorable little stars in her eyes, saying it’s good publicity and, well. What else can I say? Sure, fine, now I’ve got an interview I know I’m gonna regret. But then He,” Alastor, by the murderous tone. “caught wind of who was doing what godforsaken deed. We got into a small debate. A simple argument that should not have happened because no, stepping into Vox’s studio does not mean I’m ‘giving him what he wants’!”

Inhale. Puff. Exhale. Ribbons of smoke trailed lazily in the wind.

“And no, I’m not going to blackmail the hotel if I show up with a few stories!” The strong scent of tobacco was bitter against Husk’s already battered nose, and it only took a moment for the itch to burn just a little brighter.

“And no, asshole, I don’t care if you can stand just fine, you should be resting because you’re--”

“ET’SHHH!”

Lucifer clutched his chest, rant abandoned at the sudden outburst. “I. Uhh. Goodness, bless you!”

“Sure. Rembind mbe why you– snff! Ugh, sorry– why you didn’t tell Charlie how you felt about bein’ in the spotlight again?” Husk’s lips curled playfully, rubbing a knuckle under his nose, wincing when it squelched awfully.

But despite the sudden show, a mere mention of The Devil’s daughter suddenly and unsurprisingly got him back on track. “Are you kidding? How could you even think to disappoint that face?!” He bemoaned, throwing his arms heavenward.

“Oh lemme tell ya, it’s possible. There’s a word out there that’ll get anybody to stop in their tracks. Don’t know if you’ve heard’ve it, but it’s just one word. Starts with an N. Ends with a Fuck Off.” The old, wise bartender said, very tentatively ignoring the spare cards still stuffed deep in his back pocket.

“Hey, it’s not as easy as it looks!”

“Oh, yeah?” His tail snaked around Lucifer’s back, “You may be the Lord of the Lies to every soul on Earth. But here? With family?” The tip knocked Lucifer’s hat askew, revealing wild hair sticking up like the pin feathers of a poorly preened duck. “You ain’t shit.”

Lucifer’s face flushed gold as he scrambled to catch his top hat, opening his mouth to protest– and quickly moved to cover his pointed ears as Husk took a sharp breath.

“ET’SHHH’HUH! RSSHH’HHUH!…snff! Ugh.”

“Yeesh! Bless you again.”

“Sdnff! Thaggs.”

Another drag of smoky tobacco. “Soooo…you come up here too.”

Husk sighs. “When you’re too sigk do be ady helb do adybody?”

Lucifer winces, exhaling slowly. “Or avoid an important conversation?”

They look at each other for a moment. Husk busies himself with a few well-timed nose blows. Lucifer lights his hand with magic to gel back mussed hair.

“Nah.” They chorused.

“Charlie says I should be working on my pride and ask for help. I’m trying, I really am! I know how important it is to start changing today, not tomorrow. But…it’s hard to do that when you’re the embodiment of your own kingdom, y’know?” Another puff. Another irritated sniffle.

“Same. I ain’t the livin’ symbol of it, that’s for sure. But I can– sdnfff! Guhh, ‘scuse me– definitely attest to bein’ stubborn.”

“Selfish.”

“Borderline– snff! Sdnfff! m-mahhh…maso…masocihhh.” A pause. “ESHHH’HUH! ET’CHHH’HUH! Guhh…masochistic.” He mumbled tiredly into his tissue.

“Mm.”

“...Hey, I know this sounds kinda weird. But, uh. Thanks.”

“Thanks? For what?”

“For bein’ miserable.”

The demon king paused, blinked owlishly before bursting out in a fit of laughter. Wisps of tobacco-laced smoke pouring from between his fangs.

“No, no, I’m serious!” Husk chuckled back, looking back out at the ruby-rimmed skyline, “There’s so much good happenin’ around here. Demons are gettin’ happier. More confident about climbing those pearly gates. And yeah sure it’s good. Great, even. I'm happy for your daughter. But it’s…too great, y’know? People’r changin’ for the better and it hasn’t…”

His smile waned, “I can't catch up. It hasn’t come to me like it’s done to the others. ‘Specially Angel Dust. I’m not really good at this open, mushy shit. So thanks. For not pushin’. For bein’ yourself.” He nudged Lucifer with an elbow, “For bein’ as miserable at this whole redemption bullshit as me.”

“Hah! The feeling’s mutual…”

“Dad!” A voice rang out.

“...The- the feeling’s m-mutual.”

“What? You said we should work on it starting today, right?” Husk elbowed him with a snicker, watching the Demon King’s pallid face turn somehow paler.

“D-did I– did I say that?” He stammered out, “You must– you must have misheard me.”

“Daaad! Come on, we can practice together! I made flashcards and they have pictures!” Charlie sang from below.

“Did you?” The cat demon’s smirk only grew, “I dunno, now that I think about it you’re right. Because right now? All I hear is the big, bad King of Hell acting like a fuckin’ coward.”

“Well what do you want me to do about it?!” Lucifer whisper-shouted, face flushing angrily, “Go up to my little girl and let her down?”

“Maybe.”

The king opened his mouth to protest and–

“HUUUSK!”

“Niffty?” The bartender breathed out sheer disbelief, attention snapping to the street.

“You’re sick! You gotta get cleaaannnnn! Come onnnn! I spent all day setting up the bathroom!”

Oh.

So that’s where she’s been.

The two quieted, exchanging glances.

“Tomorrow.” Husk whispered.

“Tomorrow.” Lucifer nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, we’ll start tomorrow! Tomorrow’s good.”

#ha//zb//in//ho//tel//#snz #snz fic #hu/sk #a/la/stor #lu/ci/fer

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